The Brat Page 0,92

turned his mount toward the gates and set out. He cast one quick glance back before riding out of the bailey, saw that his wife still stood where he'd set her, a stunned look on her face.

"I got the feeling that Anselm was none too pleased that I would be going with you on this trip," Osgoode commented as they crossed the drawbridge. When Balan did not comment, his cousin added, "You do not think he suspects me of knocking you into the river?"

"I do not know. He has not said anything," Balan answered with a shrug. But he added, "Murie does."

"What?" Osgoode glanced over with a start. "Never say she does. How could she suspect me?"

Balan shrugged again and pointed out, "You suspected her."

"Aye, but that was different."

"Of course it was," Balan said with amusement. Then he spurred his horse into a run. He did not wish to speak; he wanted to think on his wife and all the things he would do to her in their bed when he got home.

It was Cecily entering the room that woke Murie. Blinking open sleepy eyes, she saw the maid move quietly to her chest and sort through her clothes until she settled on Murie's favorite, a burgundy gown and black surcoat. Murie's eyes drifted shut as the maid closed the chest again. She'd been working terribly hard these last two days and had exhausted herself. She wished for just a couple more minutes sleep.

The moment her husband left the bailey, Murie had rounded up every available person at Gaynor and set to work. That first day they'd taken down all the tapestries and other decorations in the great hall and beaten or soaked them clean; then they'd whitewashed the walls, removed all the nasty old rushes and replaced them with fresh new rushes before hanging the tapestries and decorations back in their places. Everyone had been exhausted when they'd finally sought their beds for the night. But they'd also been back at it bright and early the next morning. Murie wasn't sure if it was pride fueling their efforts to make the castle look at least almost as impressive as it used to for the arrival of the new servants her husband was bringing back, or the prospect of the more varied diet that was ensured by the livestock he was also fetching.

That second morning, Murie had set them to work on several different projects. Some she'd sent to the kitchens to help prepare for Balan's return, but Clement had kept the kitchens in such good repair that few were needed there. The rest she set to work on the upper floor. She'd asked Anselm who among the men knew something about carpentry, then had sent the four he named to cut down trees and build a new bed frame. She'd set several others to making a new straw mattress for both their bed and Juliana's, and the remainder of people to work in the hall and the guest rooms, cleaning and scrubbing and righting what they could.

Despite working well into the night, the men had not yet finished making the bed when she'd retired, though they'd promised to have it done today. The mattresses were done, however, as well as most of the cleaning. Today Murie planned to have new shutters made for the windows and to have Cecily go with Gatty's daughters to collect more fresh rushes for the upper rooms. She would also set several men to repairing or rebuilding pens for the animals her husband was bringing back, while she herself worked on the gardens. Clement had done his best to keep up with that as well as the kitchens, but he was only one man. Sudden sunlight pouring over her face brought Murie's eyes open with a start. Cecily had removed the fur from the window directly across from the bed, making it clear that her few more minutes of sleep were now done. It was time to rise and start the day. Her husband returned today.

The thought brought a grin to her face, and Murie scrambled up off the straw mattress, full of pep and vigor.

"Good morning, Cecily. Today is a fine day, is it not?" she said happily, her gaze sliding to the bright sunny sky outside the window.

"Aye, my lady. A fine day," Cecily agreed with a smile, handing her a small bit of linen to wash herself.

Accepting it, Murie moved to the basin of water, stripped off her undertunic and began.

"So,