conversation going, she said, "Bryant believes otherwise."
"I know. But he is very jealous. He is jealous that Gareth will get to spend time with you this next week while he must return to Eyri Keep. Perhaps he also sees that Gareth is taken with you and fears he will use this time with you to win your heart." Cynan paused. "I'm sure you must find this entire conversation highly unusual. I'm not even sure how it started." Elena looked at him blandly. "But I guess what I am trying to say is this: should things not go as you might hope once you return to Richard's court, you can rest assured that Gareth will do all he can to protect you and help you. Should you wish, he will even bring you back to Wales where you would have your choice of husbands."
They rounded the corner and walked the last few paces to Samuel's shop.
"I thank you for your confidence, Cynan. It does much to relieve my mind," she said as they entered the building. Inside, Samuel was helping a pair of matrons select fabric. He seemed to scarcely notice Elena and Cynan as they waved and made their way to the back room where Gareth, Morgan, and Bryant awaited them. Elena swept into the room, fully conscious of how flattering her new dress was to her many attributes.
"Huzzah, sweet lady," said Morgan. "You are as lovely as a newborn foal!"
Elena started to frown but laughed instead. Morgan undoubtedly thought newborn foals were, in fact, lovely, and she decided to take his comment as a compliment. Bryant told her she looked beautiful, but Elena scarcely nodded in his direction. She wanted to see Gareth's reaction. Trying to appear casually indifferent, she slowly turned, allowing him to judge her appearance from every angle. When she finally raised her eyes to his but he was not inspecting her dress, he was gazing at her face with a hot passion that made her completely forget the gown.
At a nudge from his father Gareth was suddenly in motion. Walking towards the open back door, he called to Bryant. "Help me bring the horses around front, will you Bryant? Da, if you'll grab the bag of food and meet us outside...Elena, gather your things. We must try to cross as much distance as possible before nightfall."
Elena turned to go to her small room when she realized that she had no things to gather. Since she had left her old dress with Annie, she had not even a change of clothing to pack, and since she had been sleeping in the relative comfort of the low straw pallet, she had not given one thought to the bedroll she had spent so many nights in. Turning to Cynan, she shrugged. "I suppose I am gathered."
Cynan laughed and said, "I suppose you are."
Elena followed him back down the short hallway to the front shop. There, Samuel had managed to sell a stack of fabric to the two middle-aged women who were preparing to leave. Elena suddenly remembered Annie and recollecting her "soul of kindness," paused in front of the women.
"Might I recommend a seamstress?"
The two women looked up, one with a plain but wholesome face, the other with a sustained beauty that Elena hoped she would have in fifteen years.
"We already have seamstresses--ourselves," said the plain-faced one.
"Why? Whom do you recommend?" the beauty asked. "We may need one someday," she added and Elena wondered if she was simply trying to be kind.
"There is a young woman by the name of Annie not ten minute's walk from here who does beautiful work. See?" she said, holding out her skirts for their inspection. "She made this gown in less time than it takes most people to cut the fabric!"
As is the case with most women, the three were instantly friends, discussing clothing. Cynan and Samuel looked on in amazed wonderment as the women chatted for several minutes. When Elena finally turned to leave, she had both women's promises to visit Annie with work.
Feeling positively saintlike, Elena paused in the doorway and turned back to Samuel. "Thank you, Samuel, for your kind hospitality." She nodded graciously and left the shop, her skirts swishing behind her.
Once outside, she joined Gareth, his father, and Bryant who were packing the last bag onto one of the horses. Elena recognized one of the beasts as Isrid, Gareth's own, but the other, a shaggy, stocky beast, she deduced must be the new acquisition. She sincerely hoped