setting her on the ground.
"Go hop in the wagon and reassure Emilie that all is well. She is looking worried," Balan ordered, turning her toward the wagon and giving her a pat on the bottom. Grimacing, she went.
Balan watched his wife go, smiling at the way she was muttering under her breath; then he tore his gaze away and nodded to Osgoode.
"What happened?" his cousin asked with concern, moving past him to look at his mount. "Why did he bolt like that? Lightning has never acted so before."
"Someone put a thistle under the saddle," Reginald explained, dismounting to join them.
"A thistle?" Osgoode asked. "On purpose?"
"Well, it could have got there accidentally," Reginald said doubtfully. "But it was placed so that it would do no harm until weight was put on the saddle."
"On purpose then," Osgoode agreed with a frown. He glanced at his cousin. "You could have been killed."
"Aye." Balan took the saddle Reginald had carried back before him on his horse and handed it to one of the men to pack on the wagon.
"I shall go check on Emilie and be sure this upset did her no harm," Reginald said.
"Thank you for your help, Reginald," Balan called with belated but real gratitude. He could have been killed in the incident and might have been had his friend not thought quickly.
"You do not suppose Murie is the one who ..." Osgoode let his words trail off as Balan turned to glance at him. His cousin's expression was troubled.
"What?" he asked, not understanding.
"Well, I was just thinking. . . she never confronted you about being in her room. And she seemed eager to leave court, even though she has to be upset with you for what she thinks is tricking her into this marriage."
"Aye, and. . . ?" Balan asked, not sure where Osgoode was going.
"Well, mayhap she does not intend to confront you about that night. Mayhap she is so angry she has decided to ... er ... end the marriage,"
Balan peered at him as if he were mad. "There is no way to end the marriage, Osgoode. It was consummated. 'Tis done. She is stuck with me."
"Until death do you part," Osgoode agreed meaningfully.
'You think she is trying to kill me?" Balan asked with shock. He immediately shook his head. "Do not be ridiculous." Turning on his heel, he stomped to his wife's mare and mounted, but the thought was in his head now and not easily shaken. It troubled him for the next hour as they rode, his mind inundated with questions such as: Why had she not confronted him about being in her room? And, why had she arranged to get them away from the castle so quickly?
She had not approached him with the matter as a wife should, but had gone to the king and arranged it so that Balan could not have refused had he wished - ensuring they would be off in the woods where accidents were less likely to be witnessed or questioned. Not that anyone would question them, since no one at court knew she had any reason - or thought she did - to be furious with him.
"Balan has been sending you odd glances all day. Did the two of you have a spat?" Emilie asked as they relaxed around the night's campfire.
Murie cast a glower over her shoulder toward her husband. He was on the other side of camp, talking to one of the men, but he was also watching her with narrowed, thoughtful eyes. She wasn't really annoyed anymore, but if he was annoyed with her, she would be annoyed right back. After all, she was the one who had been riding in the wagon all day, not he. And it had been damnably uncomfortable. She had no idea why men seemed to think that women were better off in wagons when they were jostled and bounced around at least as much as on a horse. Her whole body felt battered and bruised. And now her stomach was out of sorts too. It had not been a good day.
Sighing, she rubbed her stomach absently and turned back to stare blindly at the dancing flames, then recalled that Emilie had asked her a question. "Nay, not really. He is annoyed with me because I was sure it was a fairy horse carrying him away this morning."
"What?" Emilie asked, startled.
Murie quickly explained about her husband stepping on St. John's wort and her fear that he would be carried away