Gareth with raised eyebrows. He flushed visibly and turned to the woman. "We haven't time to lose. She can eat at the next town."
The woman smiled at Elena, shaking her head. "A man has yet to surprise me," she confided. "I just knew he'd say something like that. Although, considering how he hovered over you for the past few days, I had hoped he would prove to be more sensible than most." She shrugged eloquently. "Oh well, no matter. I've packed everything in this sack. You can eat on the way, for no doubt these men will not want to stop until long after nightfall."
Gareth stared at the woman, baffled.
Cynan suddenly stuck his head in the door and said impatiently, "Gareth we really must be leaving."
"We're coming right now," he said, gesturing for Elena to precede him.
"Now you stay dry and make sure they stop and let you rest whenever you feel tired. You've barely recovered from your illness and you've yet to recover your strength," the woman said kindly.
Elena nodded and taking the heavy sack of food, moved out the door and down the hall. Once outside, Bryant helped her onto Isrid's back.
As Gareth came out of the small inn, he saw Bryant grinning up at Elena. He looks like a lovesick fool, he thought with a twinge of jealousy. Quickly repressing that feeling he looked at Elena. How he wished she did not have to ride with him. It was going to be unbearable torture to ride the next two days with her pressed against him. But there was no way around it. He could not bear the thought of her riding pressed so against Cynan or Bryant. Gritting his teeth, he walked over to his horse and climbed on, trying unsuccessfully not to touch Elena. As he leaned over to adjust his stirrups, he heard Bryant talk from the other side of the horse.
"My lady," he began hesitantly. "I must apologize."
"For what?" Elena asked.
"It was my fault you took a dunk in the river the other night. That was no doubt what caused you to be sick so long."
Elena stared at Bryant. Gareth knew she had no idea what he was talking about.
"When we crossed the Dovey, I didn't have a tight enough rein on my horse and when he bolted, the safety line that was tied around us all pulled you into the river. A dousing like that would kill a healthy man and you have every right to be angry with me for my stupidity."
Reaching over, she surprised Gareth by patted Bryant’s hand and saying somewhat awkwardly, "There, there. I'm fine now and that's all that really matters, isn't it?"
Her consolation obviously did not sound as weak to Bryant's ears as it did to Gareth’s because the young man looked up at her in wonder and smiled sheepishly.
"We've got to move, we're already a day late reaching the meeting and we've probably got English soldiers behind us," said Gareth crossly. The lovesick look on Bryant’s face made him unaccountably angry. As soon as Cynan and Bryant were mounted, he nudged Isrid into a gallop.
Their rapid pace prevented conversation and even when they slowed to let the horses rest, Gareth was unsure how to talk to Elena. Clearly their relationship had taken a dramatic turn from the hostility of their first days on the road and even from their wary peace at Eyri Keep. But where exactly they stood as friends or lovers, he knew not.
He tried to see her face, even leaning sideways on the pretext of checking Isrid’s girth strap. She appeared lost in thought, her expression impossible to read.
Whatever path their relationship took, they were clearly stuck together. Gareth could not risk her safety—and theirs—by leaving her at another abbey. His father had been certain the abbess at Dinas Mawddwy supported Henry Tudor. They could not chance another mistaken loyalty.
Suddenly weary of trying to figure out his feelings, much less Elena’s he forced his mind to consider the upcoming meeting with Henry Tudor’s supporters. Though his path seemed to have been chosen for him, he did not begrudge it. He had decided to throw his lot in with Tudor and his kinsmen. Thoughts of battle plans and weaponry kept his thought off his beautiful companion for the next several hours.
Though his mind was otherwise occupied, his body was finely tuned to her every movement and Gareth looked down as Elena shuddered. Surely she could not be cold; the day was hot and muggy