The Brat Page 0,75

broom to watch and listen as well, but now she shook her head and returned to sweeping up the rushes.

Murie turned her attention back to her new sister, smiling faintly as the child revealed some of the pranks she and Frederick had got up to. It seemed obvious the girl was intelligent and really very tenderhearted under all the anger bubbling on the surface, and she could have wept for Juliana; but she didn't. Instead, she vowed to ensure Juliana felt loved and valued as she'd never felt herself since the death of her parents.

****

"I hope Murie had Cook make something for us to eat. I am famished," Osgoode said as he and Balan mounted the steps to the keep.

"I am sure she did. She must be hungry as well," Balan answered, running a hand through his hair. He too was hungry. He was also a tad weary. The week of worry at Reynard had taken its toll. Balan had spent many sleepless nights watching over his new wife as she struggled, her feverish body fighting to rid itself of poison. He'd tried to comfort her when she wept for her parents, to soothe her when she cried out and fled from demons in her dreams, and had even had entire conversations with her about things she liked or disliked, though she didn't appear to remember any of it when she woke up.

During that time, Balan had learned that his wife was as tenderhearted as he'd suspected, was more intelligent than he'd realized and that she'd somehow managed to make a huge space for herself in his heart. He'd believed they might deal well together, else he would never have married her, but now he found himself wishing for more than "dealing well." He wanted her to love him. Balan did not necessarily want to love her in return, for that was a messy female emotion and a sticky web in which he would rather not find himself caught. But he did wish for her to love him. He simply didn't know how to achieve that.

"If she has," Osgoode said dryly, distracting him from his thoughts, "I bet it is something with fish in it." Balan gave a harsh laugh, knowing there was little question. Anselm had already told them the men had not managed any hunting at all while he was gone. Not that he'd expected it. The great hall was quiet and empty when they entered. Balan remembered a day when just the opposite would have been the case, when the walls seemed to ring with chatter and laughter as people bustled in and out about their business. However, the plague had changed all that. He sincerely hoped to see the day when it was happy again, and with Murie's help hoped that day was not too far off.

The two cousins headed for the door leading to the kitchens in the hopes of finding food, but paused when the door opened and Clement stuck his head out.

"Oh. You're back," he said as he spotted them. "Good. I've roasted some fish over the fire as your wife said you'd both be hungry."

"Where is my wife?" Balan asked, then frowned when the man disappeared back into the kitchen. He took another step toward the door, but paused when it opened again and Clement stepped out with three trenchers stacked on top of each other, each full offish.

"Her ladyship is up preparing your bedchamber for the night," Clement answered, shoving the trenchers at them. "You might want to let her know the food's ready before it gets cold. I've to clean the kitchen."

The moment Balan took the trenchers, Clement turned and marched away.

"He grows surlier with each passing day," Osgoode said, taking one of the trenchers.

Balan shrugged. "He is doing the best he can with little in the way of supplies, and everyone is groaning at the results."

"Aye." Osgoode wrinkled his nose at the fish on his trencher and turned to move toward the trestle tables. He paused to ask,

"Are you taking that up to Murie?"

"Aye. Did you wish to join us?"

Osgoode grinned. "I would not be so cruel. Enjoy your wife - I mean enjoy your meal with your wife," corrected, eyes twinkling. Chuckling, Balan turned and made his way to the stairs with the two trenchers. His parents' private chambers had been above stairs ever since they added the second floor to the keep some twenty-five years ago. Balan had been too young to really remember what it had