A Dishonorable Knight(77)
When at last they lay back, exhausted, they snuggled together on the narrow bed as comfortably as if they had been doing so their whole lives.
Chapter 17
Gareth awoke early the next morning as the sun's first rays made their way into a tiny window, high on the wall. He was disoriented for several seconds as he stared at the clean wooden walls of the room. Of late, he had become used to sleeping outdoors, on the ground. As he tried to stretch and found his arm pinned beneath Elena's head, his mind quickly cleared and he turned to survey his bedfellow.
Her hair was a soft tangle of reddish-brown waves and curls spread about the pillow like a silk veil, its sweet scent filling his nostrils and reminding him of the night before when he had grabbed double handfuls of the silken strands and buried his face in their fragrance. Her face nestled against his shoulder was beautiful, peaceful, and, he thought, content. The last time he had watched her sleep, she had been deathly ill, her face flushed with fever, her hair dampened with sweat. Even when the fever had broken, her eyes had remained slightly glazed with weakness for days afterwards. Then they had almost made love, stopped only by Cynan pounding on the door that English soldiers were after them. There had been no soldiers last night. No Cynan pounding on the door. No illness to befuddle Elena's mind as to what they were doing.
Gareth brushed a feather-light kiss against Elena's brow. No, there had been nothing to stand in their way last night. There had been only love. Gareth swallowed but did not try to deny himself the emotion. Yes, last night he had succumbed to the feeling that had been steadily growing since he had seen her standing at the top of the stairs in Richard's great hall those many weeks ago; the feeling that had grown despite her haughtiness, despite her complaining, nagging, and bickering as they rode through Wales; the feeling that grew tenfold that horrible night he found her huddled in the middle of the road; the feeling that would have to cease once they returned to England, returned to Richard's court.
Gareth took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, forcing himself to forget that last thought. They would have almost another week before he had to hand her back to Richard and to her fiancée, perhaps a few days more if they were lucky and the roads were bad.
Elena squirmed in his arms and opened her eyes, smiling lazily at him. He grinned back at her, immensely relieved at her response. Dipping his head, he kissed her gently, her lips like warm velvet under his mouth. Of its own will, his free hand slid up the smooth skin of her torso to caress her breast. His heart began hammering against his ribs as Elena's hands began their own exploration over his body.
Staring down at her, he was entranced by the fiery colors ignited in her hair as a shaft of sunlight struck it. Her eyes also were illuminated, their cinnamon depths pulling him towards her for another kiss. An inch before his lips were to touch hers, Gareth's love struck mind finally recognized the significance of the light on Elena's face. Pulling back abruptly, he saw her scowl.
"'Tis morning, love, and I had best duck out before the others awaken. There are at least three men in this house who would sever my head from my body if they were to discover me in your room."
Elena laughed shakily, and Gareth wondered if she was just now aware of the implications of their stolen night together. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she sat up as Gareth climbed from the bed. As he retrieved his discarded clothing, she studied his supple body without embarrassment, though her scrutiny made him nervous. Suppose she didn't like what she saw? Glancing nervously over his shoulder, he saw admiration and raw desire on her face. He almost returned to her then and there, consequences be damned, but forced himself to stay focused.
Once dressed, Gareth turned and bent to drop a quick kiss on her lips. "I've no plans today. What say we travel about town and find a seamstress? We've been through enough to have earned at least one day's play."
Elena's eyes sparkled at his mention of a seamstress. Grabbing his face before he could straighten, she kissed him soundly on the mouth before flopping back down on the bed.
"If we have a day to do what we want, then I want to sleep another hour. I've been up with the sun for so many days, I feel like a chicken!"
Gareth laughed and said, "Sleep away, my lady. The day is yours." Carefully opening the door, he peeked outside before quickly leaving. Once in the hall, he stayed where he was a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.
"Gareth!" his father called out from the other end of the hall. Gareth's heart stopped and his mouth went dry. He felt like a twelve-year-old who had been caught peeping at the bathing milkmaids. Full of dread, he turned and watched his father walk down the hall.