The Brat(3)
Author: Lynsay Sands

"Oh no, I am sure ’twill be fine," Emilie said, but Balan couldn’t help noticing that she was looking a bit worried herself. She patted Murie’s hand where it lay on the bench. Forcing the expression away and managing a smile, she went on, "As beautiful as you are, and being the king’s most beloved goddaughter, the men shall be lining up to offer for your hand." Murie blew out her breath. "I hope you are right."

"I know I am." Emilie patted her hand again and stood. "Come. Let us go to your room and consider the available men at court. We can make a list of them, and then find out which we think may suit you best."

Nodding, Murie stood to follow, only to pause as she spotted a pair of birds on a nearby branch. "Oh, look! Two male blackbirds, sitting together. That is supposed to be a good omen." Emilie turned to glance at the birds, then shook her head with amusement. She murmured, "You and your superstitions."

"Well, it is supposed to be a good omen," Murie said, sounding embarrassed. She followed the other woman from their bower.

"Did you hear that?" Osgoode asked with excitement the moment the women were out of sight.

"Did you hear that?"

Balan and Osgoode peered at each other at the repeated question, which hadn’t come from either of them.

"Is there an echo?" Osgoode asked, but Balan shushed him as he realized that the words had come from the other side of the bushes. .. and that the speaker was already continuing.

"Oh, this is too rich!" the man went on.

Pulling the branch aside again, Balan and Osgoode put their heads together so both could peer through. Beyond, Malculinus and Lauda Aldous stepped out of the bushes on the far side of the bower where Murie and Emilie had just been.

"Aye," Lauda said with a faint smile. "She is not the terror everyone thinks."

"And everyone is terrified of the girl due to her reputation," Malculinus crowed. "Halstaff has already claimed a sick mother as an excuse to flee court for fear she might consider him a candidate for her hand in marriage. And Harcourt swears he will do everything he can to escape her notice. The men are fleeing court like rats abandoning a sinking ship. There will be no competition at all for her hand."

"The way will be clear for you," Lauda agreed with a grin.

"And just imagine the favor you will curry as the husband of the king’s beloved brat."

"Aye." Malculinus almost sighed the word, his eyes faraway as he savored the idea.

"Still," Lauda said suddenly, "we should not count her won already. There are those desperate enough to court even someone they believe so unpleasant."

"Aye." Malculinus frowned. "Gaynor needs the coin. Did you see the clothes he and Osgoode are wearing? I would have been too ashamed to show my face at court dressed thusly." Balan’s mouth thinned at the insult.

"But I want her, Lauda," Malculinus went on with determination. "I want Lady Murie and the political connections she brings with her."

"Then we shall have to help her see that she should marry you," Lauda said calmly.

"How?" Malculinus asked abruptly. "Have you a plan? I know you do. I can see it on your face."

A slow smile drew his sister’s lips apart, and she nodded. "Aye. We shall use her superstitious nature against her."

"Tell me," Malculinus insisted.

"Not here. Someone could come upon us at any time and overhear," she cautioned. "The maze is a safer place to have this conversation. Come."

Nodding eagerly, brother followed sister out of the bower.

"Come on," Osgoode hissed, standing to follow.

"Where?" Balan asked suspiciously.

"You heard them – they are going to the maze to plot. We have to find a way to listen." When Balan just stared at him, he frowned and added, "Surely you are not going to leave them to trick Lady Murie into marrying that snake? She hardly deserves such a fate. Besides, now that we know she is not the brat everyone believes, you should court her yourself. She could save Gaynor!"

Balan still hesitated, and his cousin repeated, "She does not deserve being tied to that man. I hear he beats his horse, and you know what they say about a man who beats his horse."

" ‘He beats his wife twice as hard,’" Balan recited with a frown, not at all liking the idea of Murie marrying someone who would beat her.

"Aye. Surely you know you would be the better husband. You are always gentle with beasts and women. Besides," Osgoode added, "if you do not marry her, it will be Lady Brigida." Balan winced, then stood with a nod. "Very well, we shall make sure Malculinus does not do anything to trick the girl," he agreed. But he added firmly, "That is all."

Chapter Two

"Move over a little; I am standing half in the bush here," Osgoode muttered.

"Hush, they will hear you," Balan growled back under his breath. He added, " ‘Sides, I have nowhere to move. I am half in the bushes as well. Now just hush and listen."

Ignoring the way his cousin continued to shift and mutter, Balan turned his attention to Malculinus and Lauda Aldous on the other side of the hedge. They’d had no difficulty keeping up with the pair making their way into and through the maze to a spot they deemed suitable; the problem had come when Balan and Osgoode needed a place close enough to listen but not be seen. They’d finally settled on a dead-end aisle between the hedges that backed onto the spot the couple had chosen. Unfortunately, it was really far too narrow for the two of them to hunker together comfortably, but neither of them wished to miss what would be said.

"It is St. Agnes Eve tonight," Lauda announced, as if this were a matter of some importance.

Balan didn’t see what the significance could be,but then, apparently, neither did Malculinus, who asked with irritation,

"So? There will be a feast tomorrow. How does that help me?"

"It does not," Lauda said patiently. "It is St. Agnes Eve and Lady Murie’s superstitious nature that are of import here."

"Tell me," Malculinus demanded.

"Surely you have heard what they say about St. Agnes Eve?" Lauda asked, and Balan could hear the frown in her voice. "If a girl fasts all day or eats something rotten before bed … when she goes to sleep she will dream of the man who will be her husband."

"Ah!" Malculinus gave a small chuckle. "So you will remind her of this superstition."

"At dinner," Lauda agreed.

"And …," Malculinus began. "And . .. what? Hope that she dreams about me?"

"Nay. Hope is a fool’s tool," Lauda said with derision. "The Lord helps those who help themselves. So, we shall ensure she sees you."

"How?" Malculinus asked.

"She obviously will not have fasted all day, so I will suggest she eat something rotten," Lauda said simply. "And then I shall offer to find this rotten item for her."

"But that will not ensure she dreams of me," Malculinus protested.

"It will," Lauda assured him. "Because this rotten item I find shall be something I have prepared beforehand with special herbs to make her woozy and sleepy and not likely to fully wake until morning. You will slip into her room in the middle of the night, make a noise or even shake her shoulder if you must. Better yet," she said with sudden inspiration, "kiss her awake, and when she opens her eyes, she shall see you and – "

"And immediately start screaming for the guard," Malculinus said with disgust. "Have you lost your mind? Are you trying to get me drawn and quartered?"

"Nay," Lauda said with exasperation. "Did I not just say that I would give her a drug to keep her woozy and sleepy through the night? She will not scream for the guard. She will wake up, see you and then fall right back to sleep. But when she wakes in the morning, she will recall seeing your face and think that she has dreamt of the man she must marry."

"Oh … I see," Malculinus said with sudden understanding. He murmured thoughtfully, "That might work."

"Of course it will work," Lauda snapped. "Now, come; I needs must send my maid to fetch the necessary herbs to achieve the right effect."

There was the rustle of leaves as the pair moved off.

"We have to do something!" Osgoode said. "They are plotting against the poor girl. She will find herself married to that idiot." Balan merely grunted, considering.

"We cannot have that!" Osgoode pointed out. "What are we going to do?"

Balan was silent for a moment more, then shook his head.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"There is nothing we need do," Balan decided, having thought it out. "The girl has the entire court believing she’s a spoiled brat. Surely she is not foolish enough to believe this nonsense about eating something rotten on St. Agnes Eve and dreaming of the man who will be her husband. Let them carry out their plan; it will not work. And as an added benefit, they might destroy themselves."

"I wish I had your confidence," Osgoode said, his mouth tight.

"But what if Murie truly is superstitious, and if Lauda convinces her to eat something rotten? What if Murie wakes in the night to see Malculinus …" He raised his eyebrows. "She may very well believe. She may think he is the one, marry him, and ’twill be all your fault for doing nothing to prevent it."

Balan scowled at the suggestion and paused to reevaluate the possible danger. He was sure Murie was intelligent; the fact that she’d fooled all of court suggested as much. But she had made that comment about the two blackbirds being a good omen, and, he \ feared, could indeed be superstitious despite her intelligence. Added to that, Lauda was very clever; she was renowned for a sneaky, conniving wit that could be dangerous. She might indeed be able to convince Murie to try this superstitious ritual; either as a lark or to simply prove it wasn’t true at all. And, if she did, the plan might actually work.

"Very well," he said at last. "We will endeavor to sit by her at dinner tonight, in order that we know whether Lauda convinces her to try or not. If Murie agrees, we will intervene."

"Aye." Osgoode let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving him; then he nodded and said with a grin, "I shall distract Malculinus, and you can sneak in and wake Murie so that it is your face she sees."

Balan peered at him with exasperation. "Nay. I will not."

"Why not?" Osgoode asked. "It would ensure she married you, and you would be a better husband than Malculinus. In fact, I would venture to say you would be a better husband to Lady Murie than most of the men at court. I have known you long enough to say with assurance that you would be faithful and kind."

"I am not going to stop Malculinus from committing such a scurrilous deed only to do the same myself," Balan said firmly. Osgoode sighed, beleaguered, and shook his head. "If you will not take advantage of opportunities dropped in your lap, Balan, it will be a miracle if we get you married to anyone."

"So be it," Balan replied. "Now, come. We missed out on the nooning meal, and all this plotting and sneaking about has only sharpened my appetite. I wish to go and find something to eat."

"The duck is lovely," Emilie commented.

"Aye," Murie agreed.

"Then why are you not eating any of it?" Emilie asked.

"What?" Murie glanced at her friend in confusion, then peered down at her trencher and the untouched food upon it. Heaving out a breath of air, she confessed, "I am thinking."

"You are fretting" Emilie corrected. "And I have no doubt it is over whom you should choose to marry."

"Well, ’tis an important matter," Murie pointed out. "I will spend the rest of my life with whomever I choose. And will have to let him bed me. And will bear his children. And . . ." She shrugged helplessly. "What if I choose the wrong one?"

"You shall not choose the wrong one. I shall ensure that," Emilie said with a grin. She added more seriously, "Let us think on this. Is there anyone on the list of available lords we made whom you are interested in or think a likely possibility?" Murie considered the matter, then blinked and admitted with dismay, "I know not. I have avoided everyone and stayed to myself for so long, I know none of the men at court."

"Well," Emilie said reasonably, "then you shall have to get to know them. There are many men here at court who are fair of face, wealthy and charming."

Murie waved her words away. "What does it matter if they are ‘fair of face’? A fair face can easily hide a cruel heart – as I have learned well these years at court. As for wealth, I have no need of it. My parents left me well endowed. And charm is lovely, but it cannot keep you safe in troubled times."

"Then, what would you look for in a husband?" Emilie asked.

"Oh . .." Murie pursed her lips. "I should like him to be kind and gentle to those weaker than he. And intelligent – that is most important. I should not like a stupid husband, else we could never find common ground. And he must be strong enough to keep us safe when war threatens. And he should be a good lord, one who knows how to manage his property so that his people can prosper."

She fell silent and Emilie patted her hand. "Those are all fine attributes, and I am sure that if we think on it, we can find someone to fit the bill."

"Why not let St. Agnes help?"

Surprised, Murie turned to the woman on her other side. Lady Lauda Aldous generally didn’t have a kind word to say to her. In fact, Lauda usually ignored her completely. At least, that had been the case for the last five or six years, as Lauda had left court to return to her family home. Before that, she had been one of Murie’s most vicious tormenters. Murie had been surprised to find the woman settling into the seat beside her at dinner. Despite them both being adults now, she had actually found herself tensing in expectation of the old verbal assault that would have been forthcoming when they were children. Much to her relief, the attack had never come. Instead, Lady Lauda had merely smiled, wished her a good evening and turned her attention to her meal, not speaking another word. Until now.