The Brat(7)
Author: Lynsay Sands

"She was telling her about it?" he asked with alarm, wondering how much Lady Murie remembered. Did she recall waking to find him seemingly groping her br**sts in the dark?

"Aye, and it was all ‘heated embraces, flames of passion, and burning kisses.’"

Balan stared, aghast, wondering if those herbs Lauda had given Murie had somehow distorted the actual event, combining the fire and his kisses in her mind. Not that it hadn’t been hot and passionate for him, too, but there seemed to be a lot of references to fire in the descriptions Osgoode was giving. Perhaps the herbs or the gamy meat had made her feverish.

"Well…" Emilie sat back in her seat and fanned her face with one hand. "It sounds as though it was .. well. . ."

"Aye." Murie sighed. "It was."

Emilie eyed her for a moment, then said, "The St Agnes Eve nonsense aside, Lord Gaynor is a fine man. I know Reginald thinks highly of him. And the king."

"That is a good sign. I respect your husband’s opinion, and if the king thinks highly of him, too, surely he would not protest our marriage."

"Aye," Emilie nodded and added, "he served the king in battle at both Crecy and Calais, and is said to be a fierce warrior." Murie smiled, pleased at this news. A strong sword arm to defend the home was important.

"I have never heard whispers about ill treatment from him toward man, woman, child or animal. It seems he is fair and honorable in all his dealings."

"That is promising as well," Murie said happily. Emilie smiled, but then cautioned, "There are some murmurs that Castle Gaynor suffered heavily from the plague. I know his father was among those who died, and Balan returned to find he’d inherited many troubles."

"Balan?" Murie said with confusion.

"That is his name," Emilie explained.

"Oh … Ba-lan," she murmured, trying the name out. It was lovely to her ear. Balan and Murie.

Emilie bit her lip on a smile and then said, "Anyway,I understand he is in some financial difficulty at the moment because of it. I am sure it is only temporary, however – "

"My parents left me well off. Financial difficulties are of little consequence." Murie waved the concern away easily, her mind immediately going back to his name. Balan, Lord Gaynor. Balan and Murie. Lady Gaynor, she thought, and wondered what Gaynor Castle was like. She hoped it was by water and not too far inland. Murie loved the water. "Where is Gaynor?"

"In the north. I believe it is on the seashore, but am not sure. I know there is a river nearby," Emilie answered. "The best part of all this is that ’tis far enough away that you would not be expected to return to court very often."

"That is definitely good news," Murie admitted. She’d come to loathe court life. The debauchery, the intrigue, the cruelty …

"Hmmm," Emilie said thoughtfully, her gaze moving over Balan, Lord Gaynor. "I suppose the only question that remains is whether the two of you would suit."

Murie nodded, trying to act halfway intelligent and sensible, rather than flighty and eager. Her gaze slid back to the man who might be fated to be her husband. Balan seemed deep in conversation with the man seated beside him, who was also attractive, but in her opinion could not hold a candle to Balan. He was paler in coloring and not quite as broad-shouldered or strong-looking. "Who is the man beside him?"

"His cousin, Osgoode. He went off to battle with Balan in France. It was the reason they were not here when the plague struck. Reginald thinks much of Osgoode, too."

"That is nice," Murie said. "Does he live at Gaynor?" Emilie nodded. "His mother died giving birth to him, and so he was raised at Gaynor after his own father died. He and Balan are as close as brothers."

Murie nodded. "Is there any other family?"

"I believe Balan has a younger sister. The mother died in labor with her, and now that their father is dead, she is orphaned."

"Like me," Murie murmured, her heart aching for the unknown girl. Though, the child was fortunate to have her brother to look after her; Murie had had no one once her parents died. Well, the king and queen had taken her in, of course, and she’d been fortunate in at least earning her godfather’s affections. But it had been the queen’s affections she’d truly desired. She’d wanted a mother’s love and approval, something no amount of doting by the king could make up for. Perhaps she could give Balan’s sister what she herself had not gained. "What is her name?"

"Hmm? I believe it is Juliana, but I am not at all sure."

‘Juliana," Murie echoed, thinking the name quite lovely.

"So?" Emilie queried lightly. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" Murie asked with confusion.

"To meet him."

"Meet him?" Murie gulped. "Why?"

Emilie laughed, them said patiently, "To speak with him and see if he is suitable."

"But. . . now?"

"There is no time like the present," Emilie assured her. "This way you can decide if he is worth troubling with, or not. If so, you may spend more time with him. If he does not seem suitable, you can move on to other candidates."

"But…" Murie glanced down at the gown she wore, a white surcoat over a plain gray cotehardie. Had she known for sure she would meet the man from her dream today, she would have dressed more attractively.

"You look fine," Emilie assured her. "Come. Balan has spent time at Reynard. He stopped there on his way home from France. I know him, and he will not think anything of my stopping to greet him."

"Oh," Murie murmured; but her mind was in a panic as she stood to follow Emilie around the room.

Chapter Four

"They are coming this way!"

Balan nearly choked on the bread he was swallowing when Osgoode hissed at him in a panicked voice. Grabbing up his mead, he gulped some to help wash down the bread, and then glanced around to see Lady Emilie and Murie coming across the hall. They could have been headed anywhere and to speak to anyone, but the way Reginald’s wife was eyeing them with determination suggested that they were indeed coming to see them.

"Sit up," Osgoode ordered. "And run your hands through your hair. Oh, dear God, what are we going to do?"

Balan rolled his eyes. "I thought you were an expert on women. Why ask me? Besides, stop panicking. If they are coming here, it is to speak to me, not you."

"That is why I am panicking," Osgoode assured him. "You do not speak much – not to women. Not even to men, really."

"I am the strong and silent sort," Balan growled.

"Well, strong and silent will not win you a wife. I prithee, Balan, please talk to the woman. Give her a compliment or two or – " Osgoode cut himself off as the pair drew near enough to overhear. Turning abruptly in his seat, he concentrated on his meal, as if he hoped the women might think they hadn’t been noticed.

Balan shook his head at this behavior, then hesitated, unsure what he should do. Should he follow his cousin’s lead and act as if he were unaware of their approach, or smile in greeting now that they were drawing nearer? He knew and liked Reginald’s wife, and was glad she would be the one to introduce he and Murie properly; it should help ease things. Actually, as he watched the women approach, he suddenly recalled a conversation at Reynard Castle when last he was there. Reginald had been forced to make an appearance at court, and Emilie was excited at the opportunity to visit her friend. Balan had been startled to hear Lady Emilie and Murie were friends at the time, having heard the famous stories about the Brat and her antics for years, but Emilie had assured him the girl wasn’t what the stories claimed at all and that he should wait to judge for himself.

Balan had just shaken off the suggestion at the time.

Yes, he now believed her words. Murie wasn’t what everyone perceived her to be. Her behavior was just an act to protect her in the cold, cruel world of court. Balan honestly found it amazing that she’d survived as well as she had and suspected the friendship with Emilie had been her saving grace. He’d yet to meet a kinder, more understanding woman than Reginald’s bride. He’d even felt a pang or two of jealousy over the man’s good fortune in marrying Emilie.

"Good morn, my lord," Lady Emilie said.

Balan jerked his gaze back into focus at the greeting, his eyes widening in surprise that they had already reached him. Aware that Osgoode was glancing around in feigned surprise himself, Balan stood and nodded to the two women.

"Murie, this is Balan, Lord Gaynor, and his cousin, Osgoode," Emilie said politely. "And this, gentlemen, is Lady Murie of Somerdale."

Balan nodded again, grunting when Osgoode jumped to his feet, jarring him in the side with an elbow. Not accidentally, Balan was sure.

"Ladies! How lovely to meet you both," his cousin cried happily. "Of course, Lady Emilie, we have met before, but it is always a pleasure. And doubly so because you have brought such a flower of beauty with you."

Balan turned wide eyes on Osgoode, sure he’d lost his mind. He’d never heard his cousin sound like such an ass.

"Good morn, Osgoode." Emilie laughed, then glanced from one man to the other. "Murie was hoping for a walk in the gardens, and I was happy to join her, but we cannot find Reginald to accompany us."

"Actually, I believe he is approaching now," Balan said, glancing past her.

"Ah." Much to his surprise, the woman didn’t look pleased. She turned to see her tall, fair-haired husband indeed hurrying toward them.

"I am sorry, love," he said, reaching her side and bending to press a kiss to her cheek. "Lord Abernathy wished to discuss something of import, and I lost track of time."

" ‘Tis all right, husband," Emilie said, but she appeared vexed.

‘Your wife was just informing us that she was hoping for a walk in the gardens with Lady Murie, but she could not find you," Balan announced, hoping to ease any tension.

"Oh." Reginald frowned at his wife. "Er … well, actually, I was just coming to explain that I have to meet with the king. He sent Robert to fetch me, and I said I would be along at once, but I wished to explain that to you."

"Oh." Rather than appear put out by this news, Emilie brightened, beaming at the man as if he’d just said something terribly clever. All signs of annoyance gone, she assured him,

"Oh, that is all right, husband. I am sure Lord Gaynor and Osgoode would be willing to accompany us on our walk."

"Oh my, yes. We would be honored," Osgoode said quickly. His voice was bluff and deeper than usual. It made Balan glance at him in bewilderment, not having a clue what was wrong with him.

"You see? They will accompany us. All is well," Emilie said, patting her husband’s arm.

"Good, good," Reginald replied – but his eyes were narrowed on his wife with something like suspicion. His gaze then moved to Murie, and finally to Balan. When Lord Reynard cocked one eyebrow in question, Balan shrugged. It was becoming obvious that Lady Emilie was trying to help lady Murie spend some time with him. However, he wasn’t going to explain that to Reginald. Not now, and not later. He had no desire to explain the debacle of last night.

"Well," Reginald said. "I should be off. Enjoy your walk." He bent to press a kiss by his wife’s ear, taking the opportunity to whisper something that made her scowl. He then straightened, nodded to the rest of them and departed.

"Well, shall we, gentlemen?" Lady Emilie asked brightly. Before anyone could respond, she stepped forward to take Osgoode’s arm in a firm grip and began to walk.

Murie smiled at him shyly, so Balan offered her his arm. She placed her hand lightly on his forearm, and they began to follow the other couple. They left the castle and made their way into the royal gardens.

Emilie and Osgoode were walking a couple of steps in front of them, but it was a miracle the two didn’t trip over anything in their path: Both spent more time glancing anxiously back at Murie and Balan than paying attention to where they were going. Emilie was casting them worried looks, and Osgoode kept raising his eyebrows and giving Balan meaningful glances. Fortunately, Murie didn’t appear to notice. Balan had no idea what his cousin’s problem was, but he suspected it had to do with him speaking to the woman. Unfortunately, Balan found he couldn’t think of a thing to say. Every time he looked Murie’s way, his attention got caught on her lips and he remembered the kiss they’d shared last night, and his thoughts went south, not offering the sort of elevated conversation he supposed Osgoode wanted.

Apparently deciding as one that he and Murie were in need of intervention, the pair suddenly broke apart and dropped back to walk on either side of them: Emilie on Murie’s side, Osgoode on Balan’s. It was no surprise when his cousin jammed his elbow into his side, obviously hoping to jar him into speech, but Osgoode was saved from a good cuff to the head by Emilie’s sudden speech.

" ‘Tis a lovely sunny day for a change and yet not too hot," she said cheerfully.

"Aye, ’tis," Osgoode agreed at once. "Very nice for summer. And yet not too cool either. I do hate when the cold winter winds arrive. So does Balan," he added informatively.

"Aye, winter is Murie’s least favorite time. She likes this time of year, though she does think fall is lovely with all its colors," Emilie went on, then briefly fell silent and began to worry her lip. Suddenly she stopped, brightening as she said, "Balan, I was telling Murie about your sister, Juliana. She is ten, is she not?"

"Aye," Balan answered.

Emilie frowned when he said no more, then asked, "She is faring well, I hope?"

"Aye," Balan said, then grunted and turned to glare at Osgoode, who had elbowed him once more.

For his part, Osgoode glared right back. He leaned forward past Balan to the ladies and said, "Juliana is faring very well. She is missing her father, of course, but Balan is doing his best to fill the hole his passing left."

Balan arched an eyebrow at the bald-faced lie. Much to his distress, his father had blamed Juliana for her mother’s death and had never forgiven her. He hadn’t been cruel to the child, but had basically ignored her all her days, leaving her to the care of servants. The girl could hardly miss someone she’d never really known. There was no hole for Balan to fill.