A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,81

hands had resumed their gentle caress up and down her back. Despite the excitement of their kiss, Elena could not help but wish she could just go to sleep, here in his arms, so comfortable was she. As she relaxed still further against him, her mind wandered to the cloth he had bought her and his promise of a new dress. Suddenly, she remembered the rest of his words and she straightened.

"Did you say we were returning to England?"

Gareth's face was still flushed, but his eyes were now wary as he slowly nodded. "Aye, in a few days."

"What about the meeting today? Did you get everything worked out?"

Gareth paused before he answered. "Not quite. You see, I," he paused to clear his throat. "I'm not convinced that this whole thing is going to work."

"What? What do you mean?" Elena was thoroughly confused. Had they chased over half of Britain for naught?

"I don't think Henry Tudor will be successful. Actually, I don't think he's even going to try to land in Wales."

"Then this whole trip was a waste?"

Gareth looked decidedly uncomfortable. "No, of course not. I learned some valuable information that helped me decide that the best thing for me to do it return to Richard's court and act like nothing untoward occurred here in Wales."

Elena stared at Gareth, amazed. "What kind of information?"

Dropping his hands from her waist, he pushed past her and sat on the bed. "I'm much too tired to go into now. Besides, I thought you'd be happy to be returning to court. Especially in a new dress."

Elena looked at Gareth skeptically. She was no hen wit who did not understand politics. True, she had little interest in them, but she knew that for Gareth to suddenly change his mind--and his allegiance--must mean that something serious had occurred. Studying his face, she forbore from questioning him further. He did look tired, weary even, as he slouched against the wall.

Unmindful of her scant attire, Elena sat next to him on the bed, deciding to drop the subject for the time being. "What made you choose this color of fabric?" she asked, smoothing the pile of wool.

"I thought it would flatter your complexion and hair coloring. Is it all right? Do you like it?"

"Truthfully?" she asked with a smile.

Gareth frowned. "You hate it?"

Elena laughed. "Truthfully, I was admiring this exact color only this morning, wishing I could make a new dress out of it." She laughed again as relief crossed his face and without thought; she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Thank you, Gareth." Her gaze trapped by his, she remained in her bent over position. Slowly, he raised his hand and caressed her cheek with his calloused fingertips.

"No, Elena, thank you."

"For what?" she whispered, confused.

Gareth shook his head and drew her down on top of him, kissing her slowly, endlessly. When he pulled back, he brushed the hair off her face and smoothed it down her back. "I have a favor to ask of you," he said.

Elena raised her eyebrows in question.

"Once we return to England, I would rather Richard not know I ever had thoughts of joining Henry Tudor's fight. I feel guilty enough knowing I have broken my knightly vows these past weeks. If I had to face Richard, I would lose his trust, not to mention my life."

Elena nodded, the thought of Gareth dying over a simple misunderstanding creasing her brow with worry and fear. "Of course. Richard need not know anything that has gone on these weeks since we were separated from his ranks."

"Thank you," Gareth said softly, seemingly relieved. And yet, Elena could tell he was still greatly bothered by something.

"Are you sure this is the right decision, Gareth?"

He stared at the flame of the candle on the small table, studying its flicker before answering. "It's what I must do."

It's what he must do, Elena thought as she followed his gaze to the hypnotic flame. How cryptic he could be. She thought of returning to England and court life. How she had longed for the luxury and beauty, how--Elena paused in mid-thought. Returning to England meant returning to her fianc茅, the Earl of Brackley. Sweet Jesu, she had near forgotten about the horrid man these past few weeks. How would she face him and their forthcoming marriage? Well, she told herself firmly, she would simply have to convince King Richard to call off the marriage. She was one of his favorite ladies-in-waiting and she had served him diligently. Still,