trying to get her breast back out of her gown rather than put it away.
Finally freeing the coveted orb, Balan squeezed it gently in his hand. He swallowed her next groan with glee, suddenly finding himself eager to draw more happy noises from her. He was just shifting to lay himself on the bed when a deeper sound reached his ears.
Balan had so forgotten where he was and how he'd come to be there, that for a moment he was flummoxed as to where the noise had come from. But when something brushed weakly against his ankle, he was recalled to his circumstances. Without lifting his mouth from Murie's, he swung out with his fist, making a satisfying connection with what felt to be Malculinus's forehead. The soft thud as the man fell back to the floor made him sigh into Murie's mouth.
What he was doing was terribly wrong. He was taking advantage of Malculinus's scurrilous plot. He was mauling a drugged girl in her bed.
The last thought was like a bucket of icy water to the raging desire this slip of a girl had so innocently reared in him. Easing from the kiss, he slowly withdrew. Brushing her hair back as their lips parted, he whispered, "Sleep."
Murie sighed a sound of sleepy disappointment, but appeared to have fallen back asleep before the sound died on her lips. It made Balan realize how effective the herbs Lauda had given Murie were. He doubted if the girl had really been awake at all to begin with.
Sighing in disappointment, he turned to survey the heap that was Malculinus, then stooped to lift and swing him over his shoulder. Straightening, he turned for one last glance at Murie's sleep-rumpled state. Her hair was splayed across the pillows, her arms up by her head, her knees half bent to the side and her body more revealed than hidden by the gown now tangled around her hips and hanging off her shoulder.
It was a vision he'd give almost anything to wake to in the morning.
Turning resolutely, Balan carried Malculinus out of the room and pulled the door gently closed behind him.
"What happened?" Osgoode hissed, hurrying to his side. "Did she see him? Did she see you? Did - "
"Shut up, cousin," Balan ordered wearily. "Let us get this ..." He scowled at the unconscious man over his shoulder. "Let us just get him to his room and find our own beds."
For once in his life Osgoode did not push his luck, but fell silent in accompanying him to Malculinus's room. Fortunately, the man must have dismissed his servant before slipping away, for they found the room empty and the bed turned down. Balan and Osgoode undressed the lord and put him into bed in the hopes that he wouldn't remember anything in the morning, and would think that he'd stumbled back to his own room and gone to sleep. Of course, Balan realized, the man would have a splitting headache in the morning, which might work against them. But he little cared. It was nothing less than Malculinus deserved.
Murie woke with a smile on her face and stretched sleepily in bed. She felt marvelous, and she'd had the most wonderful dream. She'd dreamt a man had come to her in the night and - Her eyes blinked open.
She'd dreamt of a man!
Sitting abruptly up, Murie stared around her room. He wasn't here of course; she'd dreamt him. But he'd seemed so real. She could still taste him on her lips and smell him on her linens. . . .
"Oh my," Murie breathed. She'd eaten rotten meat on St. Agnes Eve and dreamt of a man with long dark hair, dark eyes and the body of a warrior.
"Oh ..." Her eyes widened as she recalled his lips and hands on her. If the man was half as good in reality as he was in her dreams, she could hardly wait to meet and marry him. There would be nothing to fear in the marital bed.
Laughing, she tossed her linens and furs aside and leapt from bed, eager to go below and break her fast. She was famished this morning ... and her husband-to-be might be in attendance at court. She hoped so. She couldn't wait to meet him and find out his name and have him kiss her again. Her toes tingled at the very idea. That kiss had been -
"Ouch," Murie muttered, raising her foot to look at it. She'd stepped on something