A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,30
at ease. There was more grace and warmth to this hall than in Middleham, or Nottingham, or even her parents own manor.
"Enid!" Morgan yelled. A small round woman hurried across the hall.
"You needn't shout, I'm not deaf. Although if you keep yelling as such, I may soon be so," she nagged good-naturedly.
"Enid would you help dear Lady Elena be as comfortable as possible in this drafty place? Lady Elena, this is Enid, Cynan's most tolerant wife." Enid was shorter and older than Elena, but energy and efficiency radiated from her. Her black hair was pulled back from her head with a blue kerchief and fell in a lavish cascade down her back. Although she was not beautiful in the conventional sense of the word—her face being too round and her complexion too ruddy—her sparkling dark eyes and smiling mouth, along with the extravagance of her long hair combined to make her very attractive nonetheless.
Elena smiled at the woman and followed her up the staircase. "Is this your first time in Wales?" Enid asked.
"I used to visit Newport with my parents when I was younger."
"Och, south Wales is like a whole different country. I'm sure you'll like it much more up here! But tell me, how did you come to be traveling with the boys?"
Elena hesitated. Morgan had spoken to Enid familiarly, yet he had asked her to wait on Elena. Was she a servant or wasn't she? She certainly wasn't going to gossip with a serving woman, and yet she was Cynan's wife...The Welsh were a most disconcerting people, Elena thought. Without quite knowing why, Elena found herself telling Enid the entire story of their journey since leaving Middleham, even about Lady Elizabeth's flight. When the story was finished, the women chatted about English and Welsh beauty secrets as Elena bathed in a large wooden tub. Enid built a small fire for Elena to sit in front of while she dried and combed her long hair. When she was dressed in a clean kirtle, Enid made her sit while she wove her hair into an intricate knot. As Enid rambled on about everything from how she came to marry Cynan to Gareth's boyhood foibles, Elena wondered at the ease and enjoyment she felt at Enid's company. She never spoke so casually to the women in Richard's court--not even Catherine and Margaret. Remembering Marared, Bryant's cousin, Elena wondered what was so different about these Welsh women that made them so likable.
"That gown suits your coloring just so," said Enid when they were done. Elena rubbed her hands over the soft linen. It was a rich shade of cinnamon and as beautifully made as any she owned.
"My thanks for lending it to me," Elena said.
"Now, let's get you something to eat before you faint."
***
Gareth was sitting next to his father at the head table enjoying his second mug of honey mead when his eyes alighted on Elena as she descended the steps into the main hall. As she paused to glance around the crowded room, he was reminded of the first time he saw her, less than a month before. She'd been wearing velvet, he remembered, and he had been sure she wouldn't deign to speak to him. Taking a large gulp of mead, he mumbled to himself, "And she didn't!" In fact, she was rude and self absorbed. Well, she was still both of those, but perhaps tonight with no kings or earls about, she'd be more inclined to dance with him than she had that first night.
Enid guided Elena to a seat at the end of the head table, next to Bryant. Calling to one of the serving girls, she handed her Elena's empty plate and clapped her hands to make the girl hurry. Before long, Elena was stuffing herself on fish, lamb, and rough bread spread thick with butter and honey. As her hunger began to abate, Elena started listening to the conversation of the men at the table. Her command of the Welsh language was still a little rusty, but the words she did grasp told her that they were speaking of King Richard and Henry Tudor. Not again, she silently moaned. Although she and Gareth had argued heatedly over the politics of Lancaster and York--Gareth was the first man who had ever condescended to discuss politics with her-- she was heartily sick of the whole subject. Tonight she wanted to relax and enjoy the comforts of a lord's manor, even a small one such as this.