said, glancing toward Balan who mounted Lightning. He turned back, suspicion glinting behind his eyes. "In fact, I was sure it was you."
"Why?" Murie's eyebrows drew together. "Why were you so sure it was me? There must have been a reason. You were very far away, my lord."
"Aye, but I have good eyesight," he said stiffly. And she could tell by his expression that, while she no longer thought him the attempted killer, he once again thought she was.
Exasperated, she said, "You could only have seen the shape and perhaps hair color. Was she blond like me?"
"Aye." He nodded with a sudden realization. "But that is not why I was so sure."
"Are you coming, cousin?" Balan called out. Mounted and apparently impatient to be away, he scowled at the pair of them.
"Aye," Osgoode said, and shifted in his saddle. As he urged his mount into a walk, Balan turned and rode out of the clearing. Osgoode would have put spurs to his mount, too, Murie was sure, but she still had her hand on his boot and was walking beside him.
" Why were you so sure?" she repeated as he glanced down at her.
"It was the color of the dress she wore that made me think it was you," he answered. "Now let me go. I wish to stay close to Balan until this is all cleared up."
"The color of her dress?" Murie asked sharply. "What color was it?"
"It was that burgundy and black surcoat you favor. I recognized it at once." He frowned. "But you were not wearing it when we charged out of the cottage and ran you over... and could not have possibly changed so quickly." He shook his head with a sigh, deciding, "It was not you."
"Nay," she whispered.
"Well, I am glad to hear it," Osgoode assured her. "Balan loves you, and I would not have him hurt knowing you were trying to kill him. Now, if you will excuse me, I truly do not want him without someone to watch his back."
Murie released the man's leg and stepped back from his horse. Osgoode was away at once, hurrying into the woods after Balan, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was taken up with wondering why Cecily was trying to kill her husband.
Chapter Eighteen
"Are you going to tell me what I have done?"
Balan slowed his mount and glanced at his cousin with narrowed eyes. After taking Cecily to his wife, he'd forsaken turning his attention to any of the many chores awaiting him at the castle and instead suggested another hunt. He'd bought six cows in Carlisle, but the beasts had cost him twice what they would have before the plague, and he was loath to sacrifice any. They must breed to give him more cows.
"Well?" Osgoode prompted.
"I do not know what you are talking about," he said finally.
"I am talking about the silence you are treating me to and the glares you keep throwing my way. Would you care to share with me what I have done?"
Balan glowered and suggested, "Why do you not, instead, share with me what my wife said?"
Osgoode's eyebrows flew up on his forehead. "You are jealous!"
"Nay," Balan argued. "I am curious." Chuckling with open disbelief, Osgoode shook his head. "She was only asking me why I thought she was the woman in the village."
Balan's expression eased, but he tilted his head curiously.
"Why did you think it was Murie? I never thought to ask you myself."
"It was the color of her dress," Osgoode explained. "I was sure it was that burgundy gown and black surcoat that Murie favors."
"The burgundy gown and black surcoat?" Balan repeated.
"Aye. In fact, I know it was, but Murie was not wearing it when we ran her over, and I really doubt she could have changed that quickly. Someone else must have been wearing it or a gown very similar."
"Someone else," Balan echoed.
"Did I tell you?" Osgoode said with a smile. "Anselm has apparently decided - from the fact that I too was nearly killed in the fire - that I am not the killer. He was telling me the theories he and the other men have been tossing around. They have decided the would-be killer is someone who must have been in our traveling party from court, else he would have been noticed while skulking around the horses and poisoning that meat."
"A woman in our traveling party who would have access to Murie's gown," Balan muttered.
"Aye, that seems to be - Where are you going?"