A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,130
and bobbed an awkward curtsey. Elena glanced around the room for her clothing. Spotting it hanging on the wall, she said, "You may bring me my chemise and gown."
The girl scurried to fetch them and in a few minutes, Elena was dressed. "I can also fix yer hair, lady. I've two older sisters who allow me to fix theirs all the time."
"Have you a comb and pins?"
"Aye, yer husband gave them to me," she replied, bringing them out of her apron pocket to display. "Bought new they were just this morn."
Elena smiled to herself and sat on the corner of the bed. The young girl, who introduced herself as Mary, went to work, combing the tangles out of Elena's long hair and jabbering about goings on in the city. "Do you know the king is in residence at his castle just outside the city?" she asked.
"Really?" Elena said.
"Oh yes. He's been there near a sennight and he's not once been to town."
"Is that unusual?" Elena asked, knowing that it was. Richard loved to make a display of his power, especially in the northern parts of England where he was more popular.
"Aye, he's been in his castle this whole time and soldiers from all over have been arriving."
"I wonder why."
"I do too, milady, though whenever I ask my father, he boxes my ears and calls me impertinent."
Elena, whose ears had never been boxed, turned in horror to look at Mary. "How horrid."
"Oh he don't mean it and I'm so fast that he usually never catches me. All the same, he never answers my questions."
The girl rattled on for another ten or fifteen minutes while she braided and twisted Elena's hair into three buns--one over each ear and another at her nape. When each section was secured with the new wooden hairpins, Mary handed her the comb. "There's a mirror downstairs you can look in, yer ladyship. I hope you like it."
Elena patted her hair, judging the style. "I'm sure I will. Thank you."
Mary grinned broadly. "Oh yer welcome, lady. Yer husband awaits ye out back when yer ready."
Elena left the small room and went downstairs. There was a smoky mirror hanging in the small dining area and she judged Mary's work to be quite acceptable. She smoothed her collar and shook out her full skirt before exiting the back door into the small stable area. Gareth was securing the last satchel on their packhorse when she approached him.
"Good morning Gareth."
Gareth whirled around and the appreciative look in his gaze warmed her cheeks. "Good morning. I thought we could stop at that pub and break our fast before continuing on to the castle."
Elena nodded, thinking that in a few hours, they would be separated--she to the quarters of the other ladies-in-waiting, he to join the other knights no doubt training for the imminent battle. Looking to the horse he had purchased in Aberstwyth, she thought of their entrance into the bailey of Nottingham castle. Though she had grown accustomed to riding in the saddle with Gareth, she knew they must not arrive pressed together on one horse. It would be difficult enough to convince everyone at court, especially those who envied and despised her, that she was not a fallen woman. Nodding to the horse, she said, "It would probably be best if I rode that horse today."
Gareth frowned and then, as if realizing what she meant, nodded and looked away. "Of course. I'm just used to--"
"I know," she interrupted, wishing she could explain that it would go harder for him if Richard discovered Gareth had taken the virtue of one of his attendants, especially one who’d been bestowed on a supporter; knowing that she could never explain the nuances of court life in a few words.
Gareth quickly rearranged the leather satchels so that Elena would be able to ride her horse. When he was finished, he helped her into her makeshift sidesaddle. Taking the reins of both horses, he led them out of the narrow alley and down the cobbled street to Henry Billingsley's pub. As he turned to help her down, he paused. With her hair intricately arranged, her back straight, and her new gown spread over her horse's back, she looked every inch the noblewoman. She looked nothing like the impudent lass he had made love to beneath the star-sprinkled velvet of the summer night's sky in Wales. Intimidated against his will, he carefully helped her down and stiffly escorted her into the pub.