A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,65

take having my luncheon served to me in bed any day over that disgusting stuff you call dried beef."

Gareth smiled and succumbed to the temptation he had been feeling since she started talking. Turning her head gently with his thumb and forefinger, he leaned forward and placed a warm, soft kiss on her lips. When she did not pull away, he intensified the kiss, slanting his lips across hers as her mouth opened. Slowly, Elena began responding to the kiss, matching his firm pressure with sweet movements of her own. With a groan, Gareth pulled away, conscious that they were only moments away from the city walls.

"My lady," Gareth began and then cleared his throat. "I vow that before we leave Aberystwyth you will have a new gown."

Elena laughed shakily and responded, "And with what shall you buy this new gown, Sir Gareth, your good looks?"

Gareth wondered if she was serious about his looks, but refused to be sidetracked. Before he could answer, she offered another possibility.

"Perhaps you mean to add thievery to your crime of abduction!"

Gareth frowned and said sharply, "Though I may not have coin to throw away as your suitors in court do, I am not without means. What I wonder is if you'll even have the decency to thank me." Had the woman no common courtesy? Surely if she ever made it to heaven, she would snub St. Peter when he opened the gates for her. As they entered the city, however, he was ashamed at how easily she riled him—both to passion and to anger. He was a fool to take every comment from her as a slight.

He realized he owed her an apology, but told himself it was more important he search for the shop he was supposed to meet his father in front of. He would apologize as soon as they arrived, he promised himself. Lord, but the town had grown since the last time he had been here as a child. As they wandered up one street and down the next, Gareth realized that, late as they may be, his father might have no one waiting for him once he did locate the meeting place. Gareth figured the days in his head. They were two days late. His father may have assumed that they had been captured or met with some other accident. He wondered if the planning meetings had already been held or if Henry's representatives were still awaiting the arrival of Welsh lords from the furthest corners of Wales.

"Do you know where you're going?" Elena's question roused him from his reverie.

"I'm trying to locate the shop of Samuel the Weaver."

"Why do you not stop and ask someone?" she said innocently.

"I don't need to ask where it is, I'll find it. ‘Tis just that this town has changed a lot since the last time I was here."

"That seems like all the more reason to ask for directions."

"I don't need directions. I told you, I'll find it!"

Knowing Gareth couldn't see the expression on her face, she rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. She was going to have a good laugh at Sir Know-it-all's expense when he did finally have to stop and ask. As they wound back and forth along the smooth stone streets, Elena's anticipation and making Gareth eat his words grew.

Elena was forced to swallow her carefully planned comments about Gareth's stubbornness when he yelled in her ear, "There it is!"

Blind luck, she thought. Carefully storing away the subtle insults she had composed--she had no doubt he would provide her a reason to use them later--she concentrated on hanging on to Isrid's mane as Gareth sent the powerful horse galloping down the narrow and crowded street, heedless of the pedestrians and carts full of produce and grain. Elena grabbed the edge of the saddle as they nearly collided with an old man crossing the street. A moldering onion thrown, no doubt, by an aggrieved merchant narrowly missed Elena's shoulder and broke apart against the back of a cart as Gareth abruptly reined in Isrid in front of a small, slate-roofed shop. There was a meticulously carved wooden sign over the door indicating cloth supplies inside.

Gareth had just dismounted and was helping Elena down when the door to the shop opened and Bryant burst out.

"Gareth! Thank God you're alive! We had all but given up hope of your ever arriving."

"We met up with some English soldiers we had to outwit," Gareth explained. "It wasn't hard," he said with a