The Brat Page 0,5

died of the plague," Balan said with exasperation.

"Oh. I had not heard that," Osgoode muttered. "Lady Alice?"

"She married Grantworthy last month."

"Really? I did not hear about that either." Osgoode thought for several minutes, then suggested, "Lady Helen?"

"She too was taken by the plague," Balan snapped. "Perhaps you'd best just stick to the ladies at court. Most of them are here searching for husbands because their betrotheds have died on them."

"Yes, yes," Osgoode agreed, and stopped to think again. Balan waited patiently, his own mind picking through the eligible women.

"There are only three with the coin we need," Osgoode decided finally.

"I would have said two," Balan murmured. "Lady Jane and Lady Brigida. Whom did I miss?"

"Lauda."

"Malculinus's sister?" he asked with horror. He shook his head.

"Not even for Gaynor."

"I was afraid you would say that," Osgoode admitted. "That being the case, there are only two - Lady Jane and Lady Brigida."

"Lady Jane is not a very good candidate," Balan said. "I have heard she has a secret lover."

"Hmm." Osgoode nodded. "I heard that, too. I also heard she may be with child."

They glanced at each other and said as one, "Definitely off the list."

"So, 'tis Lady Brigida," Osgoode murmured. His cousin sounded almost apologetic, and Balan knew there was good cause. The woman was frightening. Large and loud, she had the most god-awful chortle he'd ever heard. His future was looking most unpleasant.

"Emilie! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Balan and Osgoode both glanced around. Even with both of them looking, it took a moment to realize the excited cry had come from the other side of the hedge behind their bench.

"Oh, good morn, Murie," a sleepy female voice answered. "I was just sitting, enjoying the day."

'You mean you were dozing off in the shade." A tinkling laugh sounded and Balan tilted his head curiously as he realized it was the Brat. He hadn't recognized her voice at first. It was neither the serene composed sound she'd had upon first entering the hall, nor the husky, sobbing whisper she'd had on the way out. This woman sounded bright and cheerful and carefree. Rather odd, considering her earlier upset at the king's announcement.

"It worked!" Lady Murie's voice came to them full of glee from the other side of the bushes.

"What worked?" the woman named Emilie asked sounding confused.

'Your plan to get the king and queen to allow me to marry!" Murie said. "Oh, do wake up, Emilie, I am ever so excited."

"I am awake," the other woman assured her, sounding a little more alert. "Now, tell me all."

"Well, I have been strutting about the queen's solar all week, telling any of the ladies-in-waiting who would listen that I would never marry, that I was far too content at court to allow myself to be chained down by the shackles of matrimony in some far-off country estate." There was a tsking sound and then she added,

"The queen did not seem to react at all, and I was beginning to think that it was not going to work. But then today, the king sent for me and announced that I am to marry! The queen insists on it!"

"How wonderful!" Emilie cried. "I told you it would succeed."

"Aye, you did." Murie laughed. "And you were right!"

"Of course I was." Emilie sounded very pleased with herself. Her tone was much drier when she added, "But it was an easy outcome to predict. Anything you do not want appears to be what Queen Phillippa wishes for you. It has always been so."

"Aye," Murie's voice dropped, becoming less excited as she added, "sadly, she has always seemed to dislike me, though I do not know why. I try so hard to please her, but nothing I do gains anything but criticism and derision. At least, I did try when I first came here," she corrected herself. "Of late I have simply been avoiding her and her ladies-in-waiting as much as possible."

"It is not you, Murie," Emilie said quietly. "It is jealousy that makes her so unbending when it comes to you. She dislikes that the king makes so much of you, even if he is just as doting on his own children. She resents every crumb of affection he shows you, as if it is stolen from the plates of herself and her royal offspring. And," she added solemnly, "Edward is not the most faithful of husbands. I think she fears his doting shall turn to something else should you remain here much longer. In fact, I am surprised