A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,146

ugly emphasis on the word 'experiences,' "in Wales will make my wedding night all the more enjoyable." Turning to the king, Brackley said, "I will still have her if her dowry is the same."

"Aye, I've padded it well enough. As for you, lady, be very thankful that the earl is as understanding and tolerant as he is. Were he not, and your indiscretions had cost Us his valuable friendship, We would not like to think of what might have happened to you."

Elena's breaths were short and shallow. She had to fight the overwhelming urge to flee. Simply turn and flee and stop only long enough to grab Gareth and beg him take her from this place. Oh why had she returned? Gareth had been right, Richard cared nothing for her, only how she could serve him! He cared for nothing except holding onto his crown.

Richard had turned back to Edmund and was discussing the transfer of her dowry. He had completely dismissed her from his thoughts, so it seemed, and he would never think of her again, now that she had served her purpose.

"Your Majesty," she said with a quavering voice. Taking herself firmly in hand she said louder and steadfastly, "Your Majesty!"

Richard looked at her sharply. "You should be attending your trousseau, lady. What is it?"

"I cannot marry the earl."

Richard's complexion became mottled with anger as he said, "You most certainly can. It has already been arranged. You will be wed come Sunday."

"No, Your Majesty, I cannot marry him."

"And why not?" the king bit out, digging his nails into the wooden arms of his chair.

She straightened her shoulders. "Because I love another and may carry his child." Elena braced herself to be physically beaten, or at least screamed at. Instead, the king laughed coldly.

"In love with who? The puny Welshman whom I've stripped of rank and thrown in the dungeon where he awaits his well-deserved execution for being a traitor? Tudor landed but a week ago and I vow your ‘love’ will not live to hear word of the usurper's journey." Elena felt as if she were about to faint. "'Twould be best if you forgot him. You will wed the gracious earl and We will hear no more argument from you. Furthermore, if you prove to be a reluctant wife in any aspect, We will charge you with treason and condemn you to death."

Elena closed her eyes and summoned every ounce of strength she had not to cry out at Gareth's imprisonment. Steeling herself to sound as innocent as possible, she said, "Nay, my king, I know nothing of this Welshman of whom you speak except that he escorted me to and from his father's keep in Wales. I am in love with the man whom my parents hoped I might marry since I was a child. When last he visited your court, I was overcome with such love that I forgot myself and gave him my virtue. Even now, his babe grows in my womb. Please, Your Majesty," Elena fell to her knees, hating Richard, but knowing she must play her part well if she were to escape with her life. "I beg you to release me from my engagement to this good earl who deserves a more suitable wife."

"Pregnant or no, you'll do as I say."

"Aye, but I won't marry her," Brackley broke in. "I'll not see my possessions passed on to another man's bastard."

Desperation evident in his voice, Richard said, "Then, good sir, take your pick of another of my ladies. There are many more beautiful than this fallen angel."

Brackley stood and said in a voice that was barely polite. "I am not certain I should do so--any one of them may already have given birth to a passel of brats. I will wait. In the meantime, I will return to my estate. I have been absent long enough on errands for Your Majesty and I am certain my affairs are lacking because of it." The earl left the room and in a flurry of motion, the king stood and grabbed Elena by the shoulders, pulling her upright and shaking her until her head snapped back.

"If you have cost me a battle for want of that man's soldiers, I will slit your smooth throat myself!"

"Your Majesty, I beg you!"

Richard pushed her from him and threw himself back in his chair. With an act of will that was physically evident, he regained control of his anger. "Pray forgive me, lady. The worries of the crown may