Highland Barbarian Part 70

"Until this woman's son returns and is able to work the land I will grant you permission to plant your crops on her land."

The man smiled, enormously pleased at his good fortune.

"Provided you give half your crops to your neighbor in payment for the use of such land."

The man's mouth dropped open.

"But it is my labor, Majesty, that produces the crops."

"Aye. And her land. Furthermore, when her son returns, the land reverts to him and his mother."

"But, Majesty..."

"That is the judgment of your queen."

During this entire exchange, the crowd had grown very quiet. It was obvious, from the smiles on many of the faces, that they were pleased with the queen's decision.

At the queen's first words, Brenna and Megan stared at each other in shock. Though the clothes and jewels were those of a queen, the voice was Meredith's. There was no mistaking it. But though both girls craned to see over the crowd, they could not see their queen's face.

As distracted as Brice was, he, too, knew that the voice he was hearing was not that of Mary. From his position at the back of the gallery he studied the regal figure upon the throne.

By all that was holy. Meredith. Disguised as the queen.

A smile touched his lips and crinkled the corners of his eyes. So that was why she had been so unnerved this morrow. The rumors about the queen's tryst with Lord Both- well were the truth. And once again his little firebrand was being shamelessly used by Mary.

Brenna and Megan tugged at his sleeve, eager to share their secret.

But he put a finger to his lips and nodded. Puzzled, they turned around and continued to watch as this amazing charade was played out.

The pet.i.tions dragged on and Meredith handled those that were within her realm. Any that seemed too complicated, or too politically explosive, were "taken under advis.e.m.e.nt Each time Meredith made a decision her voice grew stronger, her mannerisms more regal, until she found herself thinking and acting like the queen.

When a nervous old woman in a shabby dress pet.i.tioned to force a n.o.bleman to pay her for the clothes she had made him, Meredith turned to study the finely attired man.

"Did the lady make the clothes you are wearing?"

He bowed slightly before his queen.

"Aye, Majesty. But one of my own servants had to strengthen the seam here," he said pointing, "or I would not have been able to wear it."

"Has she made other clothes as well?"

"Some, Majesty. But all of them needed additional work."

"And you have paid this woman nothing?"

"Her work was shoddy."

"Yet you continue to wear the clothes she made."

The man fell silent.

"You will pay her the sum you promised her, and ten gold sovereigns more."

"More! Why, Majesty?"

"Because you did not live up to the terms of your agreement. If the clothes needed further sewing, they should have been returned immediately for repairs. The fact that you accepted them, and wore them, proves that they were adequate."

The look on the man's face told the spectators that he was not happy with the judgment. But the dressmaker saw the smiles on the faces of the crowd as she pa.s.sed.

"I would take a moment," the queen said to Lord Aston as he prepared to read the next pet.i.tion.

He paused.

Seeing the dressmaker's dilemma had reminded her of a debt she owed.

This may be her only chance to repay it.

In regal tones Meredith said,

"I decree that the official dressmaker to the queen shall be Rowena, a woman from the Highland clan Mackay. See that she is brought to Edinburgh this day in the queen's own carriage."

Lord Aston recorded the edict on a scroll, then stood and cleared his throat before proceeding with the next pet.i.tion.

In the back of the gallery, Brice watched the woman he loved with a mixture of humor and awe. What an amazing woman she was. She was handling affairs of state as if she had been born for this task alone.

He chuckled. Mary Stuart would feel the results of her charade for many years to come.

Lord Aston's voice rang through the chambers.

"Gareth MacKenzie of the Borders, in the matter of the death of Meredith MacAlpin."

At his words Meredith felt her throat go dry. At the sudden movement in the gallery, she turned to watch as the figures parted and one stepped forward. As she sat on the throne, she found herself face-to-face with the man she most feared and hated. Gareth MacKenzie.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Q^rQ^s^Q (Jareth was feeling supremely confident.

Standing in the presence of the queen, with his men around him, he intended to paint a heroic picture of himself. He was aware, of course, that his golden hair and handsome face endeared him to most people. And in front of this young queen he would be the most charming man in all of Scotland.

He had rehea.r.s.ed his speech until he was certain there was nothing he had forgotten. With characteristic boldness he began.

"My younger brother, Desmond, was to have wed the lady Meredith MacAlpin. On his wedding day Desmond was brutally murdered by the Highland Barbarian, Brice Campbell. His young bride was carried off to Campbell's Highland castle."

Meredith was aware of the gasps from many in the crowd. Scant months ago she, too, would have feared for the life of anyone abducted by Brice Campbell. His reputation as a scoundrel and murderer had been carefully established throughout the land.

In the back of the gallery Brice listened with a look of intense concentration to this man who had set out to destroy his reputation and who had nearly succeeded in ending his life as well.

"To avenge my brother's death and to save the young innocent from this savage, my men and I attacked Camp- bell's Highland home, Kinloch House, and though we were outnumbered, managed to kill Brice Campbell.

But the lady, probably fearing for her life at the hands of that barbarian, fled into the Highland forests. My men and I searched for days but found no trace of her. It is our belief that the lady perished in the Highlands."