Highland Barbarian Part 15

"How romantic."

"Did you cry?"

"Nay." Meredith lifted her chin, nearly overwhelmed by these outspoken women.

"I would not give Brice Campbell the pleasure of seeing me cry."

"Oh, how wonderful." Queen Mary clapped her hands and urged the others to silence.

"That would infuriate a man like Brice. Now you must tell us everything that happened to you since your momentous meeting with Brice Campbell."

"Aye. Momentous." Meredith described her abduction, the tedious journey to the Highlands, and her attempt to kill Brice in his bed.

During the entire narrative the queen's eyes glittered with a feverish light, as though she were living each incident in her mind.

"Brice Campbell is the strongest man I have ever met," the queen said with a trace of awe.

"It is known throughout Scotland that there are few men who can best him in a fight or a duel. I have heard many a man declare that he would wish to have Brice on his side in a battle.

And yet you dared to attack him."

"In his own bed," Mary Fleming said with a knowing wink.

"I was desperate to return to my own people. Majesty. In my place, would you not have done the same?"

The queen nodded her head.

"How did you get into his room while he slept?"

Meredith looked away, too ashamed to meet the queen's eyes.

"I was being held prisoner in his room."

The queen turned toward her friend, Mary Fleming, who was watching in silence.

"What say you, Flem?"

"Pray, continue with the tale," Mary Fleming said without much enthusiasm. She seemed distracted. While Meredith proceeded to struggle through the story of her abduction, Fleming studied the queen and then allowed her gaze to scan the young woman seated beside her.

Suddenly she blurted,

"What a remarkable similarity."

"What are you babbling about, Flem?" The queen arched one brow in a regal manner.

"You and Meredith MacAlpin bear a strong resemblance. You could be sisters."

Meredith felt herself flushing as the others began to study her with great interest.

The queen stood and walked a few paces, then turned and watched the others.

"Do you think so?"

"Why, of course," Beaton said.

"Look at the hair."

The three women caught at strands of Meredith's hair, lifting it and examining it in the sunlight.

"It is the same color as Your Majesty's. If we were to plait Meredith's, or brush Your Majesty's loose, they would be the same,"

Seton said.

Queen Mary was obviously intrigued by this unexpected turn of events.

"And both are small of stature, delicate in appearance." Fleming caught Meredith by the hand and led her to the center of the room while the others circled about her.

While the others laughed, the queen stood apart. On her face was a look of intense concentration. Suddenly she took a step closer.

"The gown you are wearing. Is it your wedding gown?"

Meredith nodded. There was an inflection in the queen's tone, of guarded excitement, that puzzled her.

"Have you no others?"

"I had no time to choose a wardrobe. Majesty. You will recall that I was abducted at the altar."

"So Brice and the others have seen you only in this?"

Meredith waited, knowing that the queen was leading to something.

"Fleming and Beaton. Help me out of my clothes."

The women stared at the queen without moving.

"And Seton and Livingstone, you will help Meredith off with her gown.

Oh, what a fine joke we shall play," the queen said, twirling about like a little girl.

"I do not understand."

"It is the sort of game we could have enjoyed in France," Mary said, her face animated.

"We will change clothes and see who discovers our little deception first."

When Meredith began to shake her head the queen said, "How many people really look at others? If they expect you to be in the clothes you have been wearing since your arrival, they will expect that the woman at the table wearing a white gown is you. And since I arrived in this hunting outfit, they will believe that the woman wearing it is the queen."

When Meredith continued to shake her head the queen motioned to the others.