The Brat Page 0,55

Shaking her head to free herself of the thought, she stepped up onto the boulder, jammed her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself into her saddle.

"Nay, you are right," Balan was saying as she sat and gathered up the reins. "I suppose I shall have to leave him riderless for the day."

Murie had just turned her horse back the way they had come when her husband called out. "Wife! Wait a moment."

"What?" she snapped, glancing over her shoulder with irritation.

"I shall be riding with you."

"Hmmph," Murie muttered, but she kept her mare where she was as Balan began to lead his mount toward her.

"I can lead him back," Reginald offered. "You shall have your hands full holding on to the reins and Murie."

"Thank you," Balan agreed. Murie simply scowled down her nose at him where he paused beside her mount.

"'Tis my mount. All you need hold on to is me," she said firmly. She would not have her mare usurped by him.

Balan didn't reply; he merely mounted behind her so that his chest pressed insistently against her back, an unmovable wall. He then took the reins and turned the horse around.

"You were going the wrong way," he murmured in her ear, then took her hands and wrapped them around the reins again.

"Now you may go."

Murie grimaced, then paused, her head jerking up as a plaintive, trilling sound filled the air.

"A curlew," she whispered with dread.

"What is it?" Balan asked, leaning around to see her face.

"That was the call of a curlew," she said in hushed tones. " 'Tis a very bad omen. It foretells a death - or is that only if you hear it at night?" she fretted.

"Wife, just get us back to camp. I do not have the patience for your silly superstitions at the moment." Balan's tone was short. Unnecessarily so, Murie decided as she urged her mount into a walk. She was really quite annoyed with him. First he'd yelled at her, and now he snapped at her; and he thought her a fool and -

She blinked and glanced down in surprise as his hands slid up to cup her breasts through her gown.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a squeak, her head swiveling around to be sure Reginald couldn't see what he was about.

"Holding on, so I do not fall out of the saddle," he said, beginning to nuzzle her neck.

Murie sucked in a breath to tell him to stop, then let it out in a quick whoosh as he found her half-erect nipples and began to toy with them.

"Husband," she reprimanded breathlessly, her head tilting to the side to offer him better access - wholly of its own accord; she was not instructing it to do so.

"Aye," he growled, his teeth grazing her throat. "I am your husband."

Murie was trying to sort out what that announcement meant, when one hand left a breast to slip between her legs, pressing the cloth of her gown against her. Murie groaned and started to sink against him, then sat up abruptly as Reginald rode near. Fortunately, Balan was quick to shift his hands to more acceptable spots, and Lord Reynard seemed oblivious to what he'd interrupted.

"It probably would be better not to ride your mount at all today," Reginald repeated reluctantly. "I suppose we could delay leaving and camp here until the morrow."

"Nay," Balan said. "Murie will ride in the wagon with Emilie, and I shall ride her mare."

Murie found her earlier annoyance returning. She'd been about to offer to do just that - give him her mount and ride with Emilie

- but she hadn't got the chance; instead, he'd announced the plan like it was law. It would have been nice had he bothered to ask. He seemed to like to boss everyone about.

"Never fear, this will not slow us down," Balan assured his friend. "By my reckoning, we shall be there by the morrow." Seeing the relief on Reginald's face, Murie forced herself to relax. Of course Lord Reynard was worried about Emilie and would not wish the journey slowed, and of course her husband had realized that and made a decision meant to get them to their destination quickly. She really shouldn't be upset that he was such a high-handed, bossy, annoying -

Murie's thoughts flew from her head as she was suddenly lifted bodily out of the saddle. While she'd been distracted, thinking up descriptions for her overbearing husband, they had arrived at camp, he'd dismounted and was now