The Brat Page 0,13

She was growing long in the tooth and very well might never marry. Frowning at the thought, Murie ran the damp cloth over her face and arms, then donned the fresh tunic Cecily held out.

"Will there be anything else, my lady?" Cecily asked as Murie crawled into bed.

"Nay. Thank you, Cecily," she murmured wearily.

"Good night then, my lady. Have sweet dreams." Murie glanced toward the door with a start, but it was already closing behind the woman. "Sweet dreams," she murmured with a little sigh, then turned on her side in the hopes of easing her tummy upset.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if she did dream of and marry a wonderful man? Murie really did wish to marry, for various reasons: Marriage would get her away to her own home where she need not deal with the cruelty and avarice of the courtiers. It would also give her children, and Murie had lately found herself yearning to have a child of her own. She would love it as she'd been loved before her parents' deaths.

Unfortunately, with her eye on the end result of getting the king and queen to agree to her marriage,she'd really not considered whom it would be to. She'd assumed that the king would choose her mate and now found herself quite lost on the matter. Not to mention she was terrified of making a mistake in her choice and landing with an abusive or cruel husband. Sighing, she turned onto her back again, thinking it would definitely be helpful should St. Agnes decide to give her a dream of whom she should marry. However, she very much feared she wasn't even going to be able to sleep with her stomach as upset as it was. And she could not dream did she not sleep.

Murie had barely finished having that thought when her eyes began to droop and she drifted into slumber.

"Where is the man?" Osgoode muttered impatiently. Balan shrugged in answer. They had managed to situate themselves near enough to the quartet at dinner to hear Lauda convince Murie to try the St. Agnes Eve ritual, and had decided to intervene. They'd kept Murie in their sights all evening, then followed her and Emilie back to their rooms. Now they waited behind the cloth draping one of the hall windows outside her chamber, watching for Malculinus to make his appearance.

"Dear God, will he wait until just before dawn?" Osgoode asked in vexation.

"That is doubtful," Balan assured him. "Surely he risks the herbs Lauda put on the meat wearing off if he waits too long."

"Aye." Osgoode nodded, then suggested, "Speaking of those herbs, after we stop Malculinus, mayhap you should just slip into Murie's room to see that whatever it is she was given has caused her no harm."

"No," Balan growled. "I am not going to go in and let her see me."

"But it would assure she marries you, and marrying her would save our people, Balan. Many will starve to death over the winter do we not soon have an influx of coins. And surely she would choose you to husband anyway if she knew you. In fact, if you were not so shy - "

"Shy?" Balan interrupted, glancing at his cousin in disbelief. "I am not shy."

Osgoode snorted. "Balan, I have known you my whole life. You are so shy you do not even speak to women. And do not claim you speak to camp followers; they need little enough said to them. Besides, it is ladies I am speaking of."

Balan shrugged. "I do not speak to women because I have nothing to say to them."

"Bollocks," Osgoode said. "You are shy. But I could help you with that. I am quite successful with the ladies. I could teach you how to romance them and impress them and - "

"Osgoode," Balan interrupted. "Somehow I do not think that the skills you use to woo tavern wenches would stand me in good stead with Lady Murie."

"Women are women, cousin," the other man responded.

"Whether lady or tavern wench, they all like to be complimented and feted and told they are special. If you were to just go in there and - "

"Nay."

"Balan, please. If you would just - "

"Nay," he grouled. "You will not convince me to take advantage of Malculinus's trickery and show myself to her, Osgoode, no matter what approach you use. Now let it go."

"Oh, very well," his cousin muttered. "I just think - Is that not him?" Osgoode interrupted himself to ask.

Balan glanced up