A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,86

as a bridegroom, but Gareth. She gasped aloud at the thought. Wed? To Gareth? He held no land, no position of honor or prestige. The blood rushed from Elena’s face and she had to sit down, because suddenly, she found that she didn’t care that he was a simple knight, and a Welsh one at that. The realization left her dizzy, as if she’d held onto her plans and expectations for so long that they’d served as her anchor and she was now adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Could she truly be happy with a man such as Gareth? She laughed aloud at herself for such a foolish question. She knew without a doubt that Gareth could show her a happiness far beyond what she had once hoped to achieve. The question was, could he be happy with a woman such as herself? The thought was disconcerting to say the least, for she’d rarely suffered self-doubt, but she found herself in new territory, stripped bare of her arsenal of feminine wiles. She glanced again at the pile of fabric. Such a gift gave her hope that Gareth did in fact return her feelings.

Vowing she would find a way to discover his feelings for her before they reached Richard’s court, Elena stood and pulled on her chemise. As she laced herself into her worn cotehardie, she reveled in her plan to burn it and scatter the ashes at sea as soon as her new dress was made.

***

"What have you discovered about Elena's loyalties?" Morgan asked gently as he and Gareth broke their fast on crusty bread and tangy goat cheese.

Gareth pulled his thoughts from the previous night's activities and swallowed his mouthful of bread. "Elena holds no great love for either Richard or Henry, but maintaining her livelihood is, understandably, utmost in her mind. As a mere lady-in-waiting, she would hold no importance for Henry, hence, she would most likely lose her position in court. Although she did not say she would oppose our efforts, neither did she offer help or support."

"Not even if you asked for her help?" Morgan asked, eyeing Gareth speculatively.

Gareth looked sharply at his father, exasperated with himself for his adolescent fear of discovery. Deciding to ignore his father's unspoken questions, he shook his head. "I can't do that, Da. She is here now because of a quirk of fate. Because she rode the wrong way on that blasted road after Richard's party was attacked. If she'd had her way, she would have spent these past weeks in the luxury of court, being pampered and flirting with the courtiers." Gareth felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of Elena flirting with the wealthy, handsome men of Richard's court, but he continued. "We simply can't ask her to make that sacrifice."

His father gazed steadily at him for a long moment and Gareth focused his attention on his meal, willing his expression not to reveal his feelings for Elena.

“You and see seem to get along well.”

Gareth nearly choked on a crust of bread. Reaching for a tankard, he washed it down and scowled at his father. “Well enough.”

“Perhaps more than well enough, I’m inclined to say.”

“More than well enough for what?” Gareth asked sharply, but God help him, he knew.

“What if you married Lady Elena. Your loyalties would be hers and we need not worry about—“

“No!” Though the idea had sprouted in the back of his mind since awakening with Elena in his arms, he could not abide the idea of manipulating her into marriage simply to aid Lord Stanley’s plans. Not when his own feelings were engaged. Elena would never willingly marry a man of his station. She had made clear many times what she sought out of life and that was position, wealth, and security. Security he could give her—with his life, if need be. Wealth he had enough, at least enough to keep her well fed, well clothed, well sheltered, though perhaps not as lavishly as Elena hoped for. But position was a tenuous thing in Wales, and soon all of England if Henry Tudor’s plans came to fruition. He knew how important such a thing was to Elena and he would not risk her compromising her dreams.

Liar, hissed a voice in the back of his head. What you would not risk is your heart, should you lay it before her and have her rejected. Coward!

Gareth shook his head and clenched his jaw, ignoring the thought. When he spoke, his voice was low and