A Dishonorable Knight(34)



"Then by all means," he said, and Elena could not but wonder if he weren't silently laughing at her, "let us go and save my dear sister. Although I must warn you, she may not wish to be saved. She's near an accomplished flirt as I am." Taking Elena's arm, he led her towards Gareth and Bronwen.

Elena immediately felt foolish. "Oh. Then perhaps we'd best leave them be. Shall we dance?"

"No, no. It will be most entertaining, I assure you, to further annoy Gareth."

Elena was prevented from arguing as they approached the couple and Rhys said, "You're not saying anything that would force me to defend my sister's honor, are you good cousin?"

Gareth's eyes strayed to Elena who quickly lowered her eyes and feigned absorption in pushing back the cuticle of her left thumb. "Not that you're half man enough to take me on," he said with a laugh, "but no, I'm merely trying to convince your sister she'd be miserable married to old Dylan ap Gruffydd. Don't you think she should stay here and marry me?"

"Now wait a moment," Bronwen protested in mock indignation. "Dylan is not old, he's mature. Perhaps if you weren't such a whelp yourself, I'd be inclined to consider your offer. As it is, I'm afraid you're just no match for Dylan." Bronwen shook her head and put on a sickeningly sweet dreamy face. Elena could not help joining in the men's laughter at Bronwen's theatrics.

When he caught his breath, Rhys said to Gareth, "Perhaps I'll have more luck convincing the same of Lady Elena." He cocked an eyebrow at Elena and said, "What say you, my lady? Care for a life of adventure?"

Elena laughed and was about to respond with an equally flirtations answer when Gareth cut her off.

"Sorry, Rhys, you've neither wealth nor a title to woo her with. The Lady Elena is already engaged to a rich English earl."

While Rhys pretended to be crushed, staggering about clutching his heart, Elena glared at Gareth and prayed more fervently than she ever had that he would drop dead on the spot. Gareth returned her scowl

Bronwen watched Elena and Gareth speculatively. "Rhys!" she called trying to distract him from his antics. "Why don't you console your breaking heart by dancing with Elena."

"Oh very well. If that is the most I can--" at the pointed look from his sister, he shut up and gently took Elena's arm.





Chapter 9




When they were gone, Bronwen stared at Gareth, awaiting an explanation. When none was forthcoming, she prodded, "Well, aren't you going to explain that little display of temper?"

Although he and Bronwen had been friends since they were children, the one trait Bronwen had that never ceased to annoy Gareth was her ability to sound like a nosy mother hen. She was doing that exact impression now.

"What display of temper?" Gareth asked, feigning ignorance.

"You're quite taken with her. It's written all over your face."

"What? Oh don't be ridiculous, Bronwen," Gareth started to turn away but Bronwen caught his shoulder.

"You are! You're in love with her, admit it."

Gareth ground his teeth in anger. Lowering his voice he said crudely, "The only thing I'm taken with is her body. I find it quite irresistible. But since I'm sure she would like to go to her marriage bed with her maidenhead intact, I guess I'll just have to--" Bronwen's slap prevented any further words.

Her blue eyes flashing with anger, Bronwen said, "I can still thrash you, Gareth ap Morgan. Don't think I can't. And after what you just said, you soundly deserve it." Bronwen took a deep breath and stared at Gareth's flushed face. "But since I also know that in your heart you didn't mean it, I'll pretend you didn't say it." She turned to leave but paused. "Just don't treat her so again, Gareth. It does you no honor."

Gareth watched Bronwen approach Elena and speak with her for a few moments. The two women then turned and went up the stairs. Gareth took a big swallow of ale.

Where had Bronwen come up with the insane notion that he was in love with Elena? He could barely tolerate her presence; she was always whining about her clothes, the quality of the food, the hardness of her saddle...Gareth paused. Now that he thought of it, he could not recall Elena complaining once since they reached Eyri Keep. And if he was truthful with himself, he had enjoyed her company today until he had tried to kiss her. Gareth cringed inwardly as he relived Elena's outraged rebuffs. Would he never learn? he thought. Taken by her angelic looks and occasional good humor, could he never remember that she was a spiteful, self-centered woman who considered him nothing more than a lackey? That she haunted his dreams nightly; that he could not get her scent out of his mind; that his lips were forever remembering the softness of hers simply meant that he had been too long without a woman--a situation he could and would easily rectify.

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