Highland Barbarian Part 69

"Look at me," the queen commanded.

Meredith stared into her eyes.

"Would you ask me to give up this one chance to live as others do?"

Meredith slowly shook her head.

"I am unworthy to ask anything of you. Majesty."

"G.o.d bless you," the queen said with feeling. Then, hugging Meredith to her, she turned away.

Mary Fleming took Meredith's arm and led her to a small council chamber where the queen met daily with her advisers.

The keeper of the gate at Holyroodhouse strode toward the crowd of elegantly dressed men and women who gathered at the entrance of the castle. Unrolling his scroll, he began to read the list of names who would be granted an audience.

From their position in an upper window, Brenna and Megan watched the spectacle with avid interest. When Meredith had told them that they would be permitted to attend Court this day, they nearly fainted. Had it not been for the strong arms of the men who accompanied them, they would not have been brave enough to walk through the hallowed 11 halls and follow the gnarled old man who led the procession to the throne room.

As they were ushered into the elegant great hall, they stared at lush tapestries depicting the royal lineage from the time of the first great Scottish king. The floors were covered with rich carpets bearing the royal seal. Around the room were chairs covered in regal red velvet.

And on a raised dais stood a throne, covered in rich scarlet brocade.

Slightly behind the throne to either side were chairs for the queen's advisers.

The pet.i.tioners were escorted to chairs in a gallery section set on either side of the throne. Brenna and Megan had hoped to find chairs in front, but most of the gallery was already filled. They were forced to take seats in the far corner of the gallery behind rows of spectators. Brice and Angus stood behind them.

A flurry of trumpets heralded the arrival of the queen. Brenna and Megan strained to see over the heads of the spectators, but all they caught was a glimpse of scarlet velvet and the glint of rubies and diamonds that adorned the royal crown.

For his part, Brice was completely disinterested in the pomp of the royal Court. He had had his fill of such things in his youth. His thoughts centered on only one. Meredith. To know that she was safe, and spending the day in the security of the queen's palace, filled his heart with peace.

Their brief meeting after morning meal had been unsatisfying. Though they had talked about her journey from the Highlands, and the perils they had both faced, there had been no time alone.

Tonight, he thought with a rush of heat. Tonight he would go to Meredith's chambers. And at last they would be reunited.

When the queen ascended the throne, Brice glanced at the two young women who actually trembled with excitement. For all his disenchantment with royalty, he realized he would enjoy watching the proceedings through the eyes of Brenna and Megan. If only Meredith could have joined him. Or better, if they could have slipped away during these long hours. But she had insisted that there were pressing matters that she must attend for the sake of the queen.

Brice's eyes narrowed. When he and Mary Stuart were alone on the morrow, he would confide his fears about Meredith's safety. And he would officially ask the queen to look into the mysterious murders taking place along the Border. It had never mattered to him before.

Let others think what they wanted about him. But now it was time to clear his name. So that he could ask Meredith MacAlpin to share it.

Meredith's heart swelled as she walked up the aisle and lifted her hand to the ma.s.ses of people who bowed and curtsied as she pa.s.sed.

She was experiencing her first taste of what it was like to be loved and revered by so many. And yet the nagging thought persisted. How could it be that none of them noticed that she was an imposter? Even Lord Aston, the queen's aide, had gone over the list of activities without so much as a pause to glance directly into her face. Did she dare to hope that she could get through the entire day without being found out?

As she took her seat upon the throne, she cast a benevolent smile over the crowd.

Lord Aston began reading the first pet.i.tion. As he read from the scroll, Meredith allowed her gaze to scan the spectators. They were staring at her with such awe, she felt her throat go dry. What was she doing here? G.o.d in heaven. This was not some silly game being played out so that the queen could experience romance. This was, for many of the people seated before her, a matter of life and death.

As Lord Aston's voice droned on she lost her sense of concentration.

It no longer mattered what the pet.i.tioner was requesting of his queen.

She was an imposter. An ordinary woman who was being asked to make decisions that would affect the lives of the people she loved.

As Lord Aston finished his speech, Meredith waited for the voice of doom. Surely G.o.d would strike her down for such arrogance. She waited for the sound of thunder. Instead there was an ominous silence.

Meredith felt Hem's hand upon her arm and gave a guilty start, bringing her out of her reverie. What had just been requested of her?

She couldn't think. Could not even recall the words that had just been spoken.

The crowd shifted uneasily as Lord Aston repeated the pet.i.tion a second time. Forcing herself to pay attention, Meredith Spoke in halting tones.

"I shall take the pet.i.tioner's request under advis.e.m.e.nt. Proceed with the next. Lord Aston."

The crowd gave a murmur of disapproval. They had come here to watch the high-and lowborn among them spar with the queen. They did not wish to have any controversial topics set aside.

Her aide seemed perplexed as he uncurled the second scroll and began to read. This one was easier. A pet.i.tioner requested that his neighbor's land be given to him because the neighbor had allowed the land to go fallow.

"What would you do with the land if I were to give it to you?"

Meredith asked.

The portly man stood and bowed his head respectfully. Beside him, his wife beamed with pride at her husband's moment of glory.

"I would plant it with crops, Majesty. I have a fine, healthy herd and they have need of more food."

"And who would do this planting?"

"I have four strapping sons."

"You are truly blessed," Meredith said. She looked into the crowd.

"Who owns this land?"

A plump woman, her gray hair pulled into an untidy knot, stood.

"I.

do. Majesty."

"Do you have a husband?" Meredith asked.

"He died a year ago." The woman fingered a sash at her waist, too humble to look at the regal figure on the throne.

"Are there any sons who can work the land?"

"I have a son. Majesty. A bonnie lad he is. But he is off fighting the English who raided our Border."

"No other children?"

"There is a daughter. Majesty. Her husband was killed by the English, and she and her three baims are now living with me. She and I have tried to till the soil but it is more than we can manage."

Meredith studied the woman, then glanced at the neighbor who desired her land. If only, she thought, life could always be equitable. But some were born with health, or acquired wealth, while others seemed always beaten down by the trials of this life.