A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,51

Quickly turning his head he busied himself wringing out the cloth. When he had replaced it on her chest, he drew the covers up and reached for the full bowl of broth.

"Elena?" he said softly. "You must try to get some of this down." With his free hand he shook her gently until her eyes opened. "Try and drink, Elena."

Gareth lifted her head and held the bowl to her lips. She only drank a few swallows, and he spilled just as much down her neck, but he felt a great sense of accomplishment. "Good girl. Go back to sleep now." But she was already out.

Chapter 12

Gareth awoke to dim sunlight filtering through the downpour. He sat up abruptly, his muscles sore from their awkward position in the hard chair in which he had fallen asleep. Moving as fast as his cramped muscles would allow, he crossed the room and felt Elena's face. It was still hot, but she was now drenched in sweat, the covers bunched around her waist. "Damn!" Gareth said. "I should have covered you hours ago." Cursing his stupidity, he drew the blankets up to her chin, tucking them around her shoulders. He then sat down on the edge of the bed and smoothed her damp hair off her face.

Despite her illness, Gareth thought, she's still the most beautiful woman I've seen. Her normally chestnut hair, now wet with sweat, was a dark red, her lashes russet fans against her cheeks, her eyebrows arching softly above. Without thinking, Gareth raised his hand and traced the curve of her cheek, the line of her mouth.

At his touch, Elena's eyes opened and she whispered, "Water." Gareth was instantly on his feet, searching for a bucket or pitcher. "Where could it--Oh damn it all to hell!" Gareth bellowed as his foot kicked over the bucket of water near the foot of the bed. He quickly righted the bucket, but not before all the water drained out.

"I'll be right back," he told the dazed Elena, and jerking the door open, he bolted down the narrow staircase. Cynan and Bryant jumped up when he entered the main room.

"Where is fresh water?" he asked the startled innkeeper.

"I took a bucket up to your room last--"

"I spilled it. Where do I find more?" Gareth turned as the door opened, letting in a blast of rain and the innkeeper's wife who was lugging two buckets.

"Is that fresh water?" he demanded.

"Aye," said the woman as she handed him a bucket. "Is she worse?"

"I don't think so; her fever is starting to break." Without another word, he grabbed the handle and dashed back up the stairs. Cynan and Bryant stared after him in surprise for several seconds.

"An unlikelier nursemaid I've never seen," Cynan said sardonically.

Bryant glanced at their hosts before turning to Cynan and lowering his voice. "Do you think 'tis quite proper for Gareth to be in Lady Elena's room like that?"

Cynan looked at his friend with a suspicious smile tugging at his lips. "Since when are you so worried about propriety, especially with an English lass?"

Bryant flushed deeply and shrugged. "I just don't think Lady Elena will be pleased 'twas Gareth who spent the night with her."

"And who do you think she would have rather had with her last night?" Cynan asked, all pretense of a straight face vanishing as he laughed.

"That's not what I meant," Bryant denied hotly. "I meant I don't think Lady Elena would prefer to have any man tending her whilst she's ill."

"'Tis a common enough excuse, claiming to be ill," Cynan gibed. If there was one thing he enjoyed more than tormenting Gareth, it was making Bryant blush.

"Have you no decency, you clot? You'd best keep your mouth closed, lest I be tempted to repeat some of your remarks to dear Enid."

"Now you don't play fair, Bryant," Cynan said. "You go telling her such things and 'twill be she claiming illness every night for a month!" When Bryant looked unimpressed, Cynan relented. "All right, all right, I'll stop hounding you and our fair English visitor."

"She's Welsh," Bryant said.

"Who is? What are you talking about?"

"Lady Elena. She's not just English, she's Welsh, too. Her father's mother is from Glamorgan."

"And how do you know this? Gareth never made mention of it to me."

A smug look crossed Bryant's face. "She told me when we went for a walk a few weeks ago at Eyri Keep. Shortly after we arrived."

Cynan looked at his friend dubiously. Perhaps the Lady Elena would have preferred his company