A Dishonorable Knight(16)
The three men exchanged glances. Finally, Bryant spoke up. "My lady, we fear for your safety. The villains who attacked us yesterday may still be around. We would not jeopardize your safety."
Elena opened her mouth to tell them that the Woodvilles were by now long gone. She snapped it shut again when she realized she would be revealing more than she had claimed to know. As they rode, she tried to decide what, exactly, she would tell the king. If she told him of Elizabeth’s escape, he may thank her for the information. If he realized that Elena was aware of why the princess escaped, he may very well want to silence Elena, for were he to marry his niece, the public outcry would be immense. She could offer her silence in return for the groom of her choice. Elena smiled at the thought and did not notice the tree branch just ahead.
“Ooof!” she said as the hanging leaves whacked her in the face. She sputtered angrily and glared over her shoulder at the offending tree. A sudden thought replaced her annoyance with fear.
King Richard was not a man to endure her threat with good grace. Oh yes, he would silence her, but not by paying her price. Though she knew the king favored her, she also knew that the position of lady-in-waiting carried no weight in matters of state. It was entirely possible that the king would use other, more permanent means to silence her. The image of Richard’s two young nephews—long since silenced--floated before her eyes, causing her to smack into yet another branch.
“God’s nightgown!” she cursed.
“Need you help, my lady?” the shy man—Bryant, she thought—asked.
“No!” Elena said sharply and then more calmly, “No…thank you.”
Though the day was warm, Elena felt a sudden chill run down her spine. Trying to think of anything else, she turned her attention to what she would tell Margaret and Catherine.
“I am cursed!” she muttered as she realized that spending even one night away from the other women, in the company of three men, no less, would destroy her already fragile reputation. Frustrated that she had no answer to either of her plaguing questions, Elena distracted herself with complaining about the journey, delighting when the horrid man glared his displeasure at her.
Several hours later, Elena was too tired to complain anymore. She wearily dismounted with Bryant's help and made her way into the nearby bushes. When she returned minutes later, she found the men already mounted again and waiting to leave.
"You can not mean that is all the rest we get!"
"We have much distance to cover before nightfall. We can ill afford to waste the daylight while you idle the time away," said Gareth.
Elena glared at the man who had not said one polite word to her since she'd laid eyes on him. When they met up with Richard again...
"Perhaps we could at least let her stretch her legs, Gareth," Bryant ventured.
Gareth, Elena thought. She would remember that name to tell Richard.
"No. She's holding us up as it is. We continue until dusk."
Bryant looked at Elena apologetically as he helped her back on her horse, but Elena was too furious to notice. She clenched her teeth so hard her jaws began to hurt and she slapped the reins on her delicate palfrey.
***
"What be the reason the normally chivalrous Sir Gareth is treating the Lady Elena so?" Cynan asked Gareth as they made their way through the forest. “Is she not the one whose looks you were so taken with the other night in the great hall?"
"That was until she opened her mouth. That woman makes an adder seem a pleasant conversationalist."
"I don't know. She seems merely high spirited to me."
Gareth laughed harshly. Cynan studied the back of his friend's head while a thought began to take shape in his head.
"She'd make a winsome wife. But not for a blundering Englishman. She needs a Welshman to appreciate her spirit."
Gareth looked over his shoulder. "Lest my memory fails me, you already have a wife, Cynan. I'm sure Enid would not be particularly amused by such talk."
"I was not thinking for myself, you fool."
"I'd not have her if she were the last woman in all of Wales, England, or Scotland. Or Ireland, for that matter."
Cynan chomped down on his lower lip to keep from laughing. Baiting Gareth had always been his favorite pastime. "Aren't you the conceited ass today," he remarked. "I was not thinking of you, either. I think Bryant has taken a fancy to her."
Gareth glared at Bryant who was walking several paces ahead of them, leading Elena's horse. Cynan saw Gareth’s eyes narrow and his hands clench convulsively on the reins.