The Brat Page 0,24

first battle he dared enter, though it was doubtful he would ever have the courage to bother.

"We were just wondering if you had dreamt of anyone?" Malculinus finally got out. He'd taken a moment to collect himself.

Balan's mouth tightened at the question and at the way the man was looking at him with slight triumph. He had a feeling the Aldouses had come up with a way to reveal that last night had been no dream, and without revealing their involvement in the matter.

He tensed, prepared to plow his fist into the man's head again, when Murie said, "Nay, my lord. I fear I did not dream at all." If Malculinus and Lauda appeared shocked by these words, it was no more than he himself felt. Osgoode's expression also seemed to suggest surprise.

Only Lady Emilie didn't react to the claim, merely smiled and said, "I fear it was just a silly superstition after all."

"I... You ..." Malculinus paused and stared at Murie, seemingly at a loss. It appeared his plan was foiled.

"Are you sure you did not dream of anyone?" Lauda asked with a frown, and Balan felt sure that, if it were acceptable, she would have grabbed Murie by the throat and shaken her until the truth came out. However, they weren't alone, and she could do nothing when Murie shook her head.

"I am quite positive," she replied, and then asked, "Why, Lauda? Did you dream of someone?"

The woman stiffened, then suddenly looked pleased. "Aye. I did."

"Really?" Emilie asked with interest. "And who did you dream of?"

"I... he was a stranger. Tall, fair and handsome," Lauda remarked, then eyed Murie. "I felt sure you would have dreamed, too."

It was obvious the woman was hoping that by claiming she'd dreamed, she would encourage Murie to admit as much herself, but Murie merely shook her head apologetically. "I am sorry, Lauda. Mayhap I did not have enough of the rotten meat." Lauda let her breath out on a sigh, scowled and then said,

"Mayhap."

"Well," Emilie said brightly. "We were enjoying a nice walk on this rare sunny day. I suppose we should continue."

"We will join you," Lauda suggested, an obviously forced smile on her face.

Emilie's smile became decidedly annoyed, but there was little she could do without appearing rude. Unable to dissuade the Aldouses from joining them, she did the next best thing and latched on to Malculinus's arm. "How lovely! I can ask Malculinus about something I have been wondering for quite a while. How do you feel about... the French?" she ended at last, drawing the man determinedly forward and away from Murie and Balan.

Lauda scowled and opened her mouth to speak, only to snap it closed again in surprise as Osgoode took her arm and began to urge her forward. "I shall escort you then, Lady Lauda. How fortunate I am - getting to walk with three such lovely women in one day." Balan bit his lip to keep from laughing as she found herself led firmly away.

"Well," he said, turning back to Murie. "Shall we?" Murie nodded silently, and allowed Balan to draw her hand through his arm to continue their walk. Her mind was in an uproar. It had been Emilie who suggested that she not admit she'd dreamt of anyone last night. She'd made the comment right after hearing the details of the dream. Murie had been grateful for the suggestion. While she hadn't minded telling Emilie about it, she hadn't felt at all comfortable sharing the dream with Cecily and wasn't happy with the idea of having to share it with anyone else, either. She felt sure this was the best way to deal with the matter, and had found it surprisingly easy to lie to Lauda and Malculinus when the question came up. Not that she would have admitted to it in front of Balan, anyway. It was one thing for Emilie to know about it; quite another for the man who had kissed and caressed her so sweetly in her dreams.

Besides, this seemed to her to be a good test of the superstition. She knew about the dream, but Balan did not; and so, if they ended up together anyway, then surely it was fated.

Forcing a smile, she glanced toward Balan, wishing he would say something to break the silence that had swallowed them now that Emilie and Osgoode were no longer doing the talking. She tried thinking of something to say herself, but had spent the past several years trying to