A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,124

They were blessed with near-perfect weather, only suffering two days of rain as league after league disappeared beneath Isrid's hooves. To fill the hours, they told stories of their youth, shared dreams and hopes of their youth, and even admitted first loves and first broken hearts. In the evenings, Elena helped Gareth unload the horses and gather firewood. She even learned to boil water to soften their dried meat into a more palatable stew, their hard sausage having run out on day two. At night, they curled close to each other when the fire burned down to smoldering embers. If the nights grew cold, the lovers did not notice, so intent were they on the other's body, their own pleasure, and the heat they created.

Gareth would have been content to spend the rest of his days traveling. Not once did he notice the food he ate, the hardness of the ground on which he slept, or the discomfort of the slow, penetrating drizzle that doused them for two days. Later, all he could remember of that trip was Elena pressed against him in the saddle with his arm curled comfortably around her waist; her soft form in his arms night after night; their hours of laughter and shared confidences; and his marvel that she could have changed so much in two short months, going from spoiled shrew to pleasing companion. The only thing that marred the journey for him was the nagging voice in his head telling him he was a fool for remaining silent, reminding him that he was wasting precious time by not telling her he loved her, time that could be spent racing to Eyri Keep should her feelings mirror his. But never in their enjoyable days or passionate nights had she uttered one word of love, one word of encouragement that she desired any more than they already had.

Elena was reveling in the novel experience of saying and doing whatever she pleased with no worry as to how decorous she looked or how ladylike she sounded. It was a remarkably liberating feeling, she reflected, to be able to discuss with Gareth any topic that came to mind and know that he would answer all her questions and ask her some in return. Never once did he tell her that any of her comments were not befitting a lady of the court, or that she should not concern herself with things more suited to a man's brain. Elena had once thought the way she had coerced the men of Richard's court to her will through flattery and flirtation was power. She was now learning the power of using her own thoughts and ideas to change Gareth's mind. Though she was eager to return to Richard's retinue, she was torn. She loved the richness and the beauty of court with everyone on their best behavior: jewels glittering, velvets rustling, musicians playing, incense-filled braziers smoking. She loved dressing in a new gown to attend a sumptuous feast where men toasted her beauty and laughter filled the hall. On the other hand, she was dimly aware that she would not be able to act in court as she was able to here, in Gareth's company. She would have to return to being a nodding hen wit when the king addressed her, smiling sweetly to his rich but dusty old nobles who doddered around thinking they were ever so much more attractive to the young ladies-in-waiting than their sons and grandsons who were young and handsome and had all their teeth.

And then there was her fianc茅e. Of all the strictures and ladylike rules she would have to obey again once she stepped foot in Richard's court, meekly accepting the king's choice of her future husband was the one she dreaded the most. She was growing miserably certain that she would be unable to convince Richard to break off the engagement at this late date. By now Richard must have already received arms and the men to bear them from the earl's holdings. The king would be indebted to Brackley for his support and his advice and he would not risk them in the upcoming confrontation with Henry Tudor for the whim of a mere lady-in-waiting, be she favorite or no.

All that considered, she continued to fantasize about life at Eyri Keep. She thought of the evenings at Gareth's home spent embroidering by the fire with Enid while Morgan and Gareth discussed moving the flocks of sheep to a new pasture. She