A Dishonorable Knight(27)
She began to kiss him back, but in the light of day, she was suddenly reminded of her position, of the inappropriateness of how they had spent the night. "Don't!" she said as she pushed him away.
Embarrassed, Gareth rolled to his feet and stalked out of the small cave. What had he been thinking? he wondered as he looked into the sparse woods on the mountain, looking for any sign that they had been followed. She was still the same spoiled wretch who had tormented him for the past fortnight. Last night's kiss was simply born of relief to be alive and—
"I'll be damned," Gareth said, thoughts of Elena immediately evaporating as he looked around at the mountain range they were in. Quickly scurrying back to the cave, he said, "Gather everything up! We're not but a day's ride from my father's keep."
Elena finished her fig and slowly stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her gown. Although Gareth seemed to have forgotten what had transpired between them the night before and just moments ago, Elena could not help but remember and the memories made her feel embarrassed and awkward.
"Come on! Pack up the bag while I saddle Isrid."
Taking refuge from her embarrassment in haughtiness, Elena snapped, "I am not a stable hand and I refuse to be treated like one."
Gareth laughed. He was so glad he would be home by nightfall even Elena couldn't dampen his spirits. "Then pray, sit ye down, my lady whilst I, the noble and gallant Sir Gareth do attend your every need." With a cheerful, if tuneless, whistle, Gareth quickly packed their few belongings and saddled Isrid. Leading the horse outside he began to walk north, across the broad mountain. Elena followed several paces behind, scolding herself for being so flustered by a silly kiss. She'd been kissed before, had she not? And by far better men than lowly Sir Gareth ap-something or another. Of course, a small voice whispered in her head, not by a better kisser than Sir Gareth. The very skin behind her knees tingled when she remembered their passionate kiss of the night before. Elena watched Gareth's broad shoulders as he picked a careful path across the rocky mountainside. He was unlike any of the men she had ever been attracted to. Whereas Lord Edgeford was tall and slender, Gareth was just a few inches taller than her, and compactly built, his arms and chest bound in hard muscles. Edgeford had golden blond hair that fell in carefully placed waves: Gareth’s thick unruly dark brown hair forever seemed to be curling in the wrong direction. Edgeford's pale blue eyes gazed with tranquility on life while nothing escaped Gareth’s multi-faceted grey eyes, taking in every detail of the world around him, sparkling with curiosity. In truth Elena was not sure if she liked or scorned Gareth for those very differences.
***
By nightfall, Gareth and Elena were riding into the quiet bailey of a small stone and wood keep. Despite her weariness, Elena noticed how immaculate everything seemed, even for a keep of this size. Firewood was stacked in neat rows against one wall; the hard packed dirt around the keep was swept clean of any clutter or debris; a trim hedge encircled what looked to be a well kept garden and arbor; and the pale stone of the keep gleamed warmly in the pearly light of dusk. A guard approached them with a pine torch and cried, "Ho! Stand and be known!" Recognition dawned in his voice as he shouted over his shoulder, "'Tis Sir Gareth! He's home!" Within moments, the bailey was alive with activity. The door to the keep swung open with a loud creak and several men poured out, among them, Cynan and Bryant.
"Are we glad to see you!" said Cynan. "Did you take the scenic route?" he joked.
Helping Elena down, Bryant asked, "My lady, are you alright?"
"Yes, of course." Elena suddenly felt flustered and conspicuous with all of the people crowding around them.
"Gareth!" Gareth and Elena both turned at the booming voice behind them. An older version of Gareth was pushing his way through the small crowd. When he reached Gareth, he hugged him tightly and muttered what Elena could only guess was a Welsh prayer.
Gareth and his father spoke animatedly for several minutes before Gareth remembered Elena. Turning, he switched back to English and said, "Father, this is the Lady Elena de Vignon. I'm afraid she's our reluctant travel companion."
"Blessed St. Dafydd! You don't mean to tell me you've abducted her. I'll grant you, she's a beauty, but--"
Laughing at Elena's incredulous stare and his father's mistaken conclusions, Gareth interrupted. "You need not begin praying for my blackened soul, father. Lady Elena was traveling with King Richard when his party was attacked. She was separated from the group and we were going to escort her to an abbey or one of the border lords' keeps, but..."