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!