The Brat Page 0,46

from the wall and started up the hall the men had taken, sure they were far enough away that she would not run into them. She wished she could say with honesty that she would have believed Balan if she'd had the chance to confront him and he'd told her the true state of affairs, but she feared he was right. In truth, she hardly knew her husband and might very well have taken him for a liar. Overhearing this conversation, however, had gone a long way toward increasing her trust in him. Not only had he had honorable intentions the night he was in her room, he'd flat out refused Osgoode's suggestion to lie to appease her. She had a good man for her husband. She owed St. Agnes a good deal for sending Balan to her.

Murie paused and pursed her lips thoughtfully as she reached the stairs. She was not at all upset about leaving court early. She too was worried about Emilie; besides, she had no great love for court. She only feared that the king could be difficult about such things and might not take Balan's request well if he used the wrong approach. She, on the other hand, had a great deal of experience in how to handle the king. She would deal with the matter for him.

Chapter Eight

" 'Tis busy," Reginald murmured as he peered at the lords milling around them. They had already given their names to Robert, making their request to see the king, and had found a spot to wait in the corner. "We shall be lucky to get in to see him at all today."

"Aye." Balan scowled at the crowded waiting room outside the king's chamber. He'd been hoping to get Murie away from court today to prevent their marital problems becoming fodder for the court, but at this rate, it wasn't looking likely.

"Is that not Murie?"

Balan turned at Osgoode's surprised words and saw his wife bustling out into the hall. She moved quickly, a smile on her face, looking neither left nor right, so she did not see the three of them. Frowning, Balan took a step to follow her, intending to ask what she'd been about, only to pause as he heard his name called.

"Lord Gaynor?" the speaker said again, closer this time. Balan tore his gaze from his departing wife's back and peered at Robert as the man reached his side. "Aye?"

"You may see the king now."

"What of Lord Reynard? We asked to see him together," he said, glancing toward his now frowning friend.

"I was told to send for only you," the servant said simply. "This way, please."

After the briefest hesitation, Balan nodded and followed. His eyes sought Edward the moment he stepped through the door. There was no fury or upset apparent on the king's face, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. He was well aware that His Majesty could hide his emotions when it suited his purposes. If Murie had been here to complain about her husband tricking her, Edward might very well hide his emotions until he was ready to tear layers off Balan's back.

"Ah, Balan." Edward smiled in greeting. "Good. I asked you here to speak about Murie."

"Actually, I asked to speak to you for the very same reason," Balan replied. Worry drew his brows together.

"Really?" Edward glanced toward Robert in question, and the man nodded.

"He arrived and asked to see you just before you ordered me to send for him," the servant explained.

"Ah." Edward nodded. "That explains how you got here so quickly. Good, well, as I am the king, I will speak first, and then you may speak of your issue."

Balan gave a half bow. "As you wish, sire."

Edward nodded and got right to the point. "Murie is concerned about Lady Reynard's health. The two have been friends for years, and she holds a great deal of affection for Lady Emilie - an affection that is returned. Unfortunately, it would seem this affection may be endangering the woman's health. She is with child and should really be at home resting before the babe comes, but she wishes to stay here and visit with Murie as long as she can. Murie feels that, were she to leave court, Emilie would agree to leave as well and return to her home."

"Ah," Balan said, realizing slowly that she'd not come to tattle to the king, but had done his work for him. What was the minx up to? He merely said,