A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,85

his shoulder, he saw admiration and raw desire on her face. He almost returned to her then and there, consequences be damned, but forced himself to stay focused.

Once dressed, Gareth turned and bent to drop a quick kiss on her lips. "I've no plans today. What say we travel about town and find a seamstress? We've been through enough to have earned at least one day's play."

Elena's eyes sparkled at his mention of a seamstress. Grabbing his face before he could straighten, she kissed him soundly on the mouth before flopping back down on the bed.

"If we have a day to do what we want, then I want to sleep another hour. I've been up with the sun for so many days, I feel like a chicken!"

Gareth laughed and said, "Sleep away, my lady. The day is yours." Carefully opening the door, he peeked outside before quickly leaving. Once in the hall, he stayed where he was a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

"Gareth!" his father called out from the other end of the hall. Gareth's heart stopped and his mouth went dry. He felt like a twelve-year-old who had been caught peeping at the bathing milkmaids. Full of dread, he turned and watched his father walk down the hall.

"Is she still asleep?" Morgan asked.

Gareth swallowed to force his heart back down into his chest, then he cleared his throat. "Yes, I thought I'd check on her, but she's asleep."

"Poor dear, she probably needs the rest, especially after last night."

Gareth's eyes widened to the point he was afraid they would tumble out of his head. "Last night?"

"Yes. Cynan said you convinced Elena to play on the Viking stumps last night in the market."

Gareth's heart resumed beating. "Oh, yes. She did very well."

"Well, best not to disturb her then. Let's go sit by the fire and talk about your strategy."

Gareth nodded and allowed himself to be pulled down the hall on legs that were rubbery with reaction to almost being caught, and weak from??ther things.

***

After Gareth left, wedging the door as closed as it would go, Elena stretched lazily, curling her toes and yawning. This was heaven, she thought. To simply be able to lay here in relative comfort and cleanliness for as long as she wanted. More sleep was definitely what she wanted, but as she lay on the narrow pallet and gazed out the tiny square pane of the window, she found that she was not the least bit sleepy. In fact, she felt as if she could hike across Wales. Elena laughed at the whimsical thought. Two months ago, she would have thought something like, "I could dance all night," or, "I could help Lady Elizabeth change her clothes twelve time today." Still, sleepy or no, it felt wonderful to lay here and know that the day was hers to do with as she pleased. Hers and Gareth's.

She glanced around the room, her gaze coming to rest on the heap of cranberry-colored wool. A new dress! And the finest cotton! She had not been so excited about having a new outfit since her mother had first helped her prepare for moving to Richard's court. The fact that Gareth had thought enough of her to give her such a gift gave her pause.

Sitting up slowly, Elena leaned over and collected her torn chemise. Her cheeks warmed as she thought of the night spent in Gareth's arms, his compactly built but strong body pressed against hers. What would Margaret and Catherine and all the other girls back at court say if they knew what she had done. Not only done, she corrected herself, but enjoyed! She did not regret for a moment what had happened last night. In the bright light of day, she forced herself to admit that she had long found Gareth attractive. But somewhere along their travels, she had come to desire more than his handsome face or broad shoulders. His focus, his determination, the way he put her safety above all else; she had never had someone make her feel as cherished as he did. And this gift??/p>

No, she was not sorry for what happened last night. In fact, she would do her best to see that it happened again before she must face the possibility of a wedding night with Brackley. The wayward thought of the earl this time did not bring an involuntary shudder. Not because she was resigned to her fate, but because suddenly she saw before her not Brackley