A Hellion at the Highland Court (The Highland Ladies #9) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,9

saw now that Laurel was reaching a point of desperation, and he didn’t doubt she would cause a scandal to be sent away. And he suspected she would do it of such epic proportions that their family would never welcome her back at Balnagown either.

“Dinna fash, brother. I’m nay one’s problem but ma own,” Laurel said as she stepped over the bench. She moved toward the doors of the Great Hall, but a page stopped her.

“Lady Laurel, the king and queen request you join them in their antechamber,” the young boy informed Laurel.

“Now?” She glanced over the boy’s head to see the royal couple was no longer on the dais.

“Aye, my lady,” the page said before turning away. Laurel drew in a deep breath before making her way back across the Great Hall, having no choice but to pass her clansmen. She didn’t cast her eyes in their direction, and she ignored Monty as he called out to her.

“Where are you going?” Monty asked as he fell into step alongside her. “Your chamber is in the other direction.”

“I told ye, dinna fash, brother,” Laurel muttered.

“Laurel, please,” Monty begged.

“The king and queen have summoned me. Go away.”

“Both of them? Do they do that often?” Monty wondered.

“Do you fear this shall be the scandal? That I’ll insult our monarch? Or perhaps you think I should practice those tricks in a maynage?” Laurel snapped quietly. “One partner would be enough for me. I’m not the one who needs two.”

“That’s not fair,” Monty whispered.

“Welcome to life at court, Montgomery. None of it is fair. Go away,” Laurel ordered. But it was too late. They were already at the doors to the antechamber, and a guard opened it for them. The king and queen looked in their direction.

“Join us, Montgomery,” King Robert commanded. The siblings entered and showed their deference to the Bruce and Queen Elizabeth with a curtsy and bow. The tension crackled between them, but they were accustomed to hiding their thoughts and feelings. Their expressions appeared relaxed while neither felt that way.

“It is well timed that your brother attends court, Lady Laurel,” King Robert addressed her. “This shall save me sending a messenger. Lady Laurel, how long have you been in service to my wife?”

Laurel swallowed but kept her gaze upon the king. Queen Elizabeth knew exactly how long Laurel had been one of her ladies-in-waiting, as did the king. But he would force her to admit to her prolonged tenure.

“Eleven years, Your Majesty,” Laurel spoke clearly.

“That is how long Elizabeth Fraser was at court. Of course, she arrived as a child with her parents. Her service to the queen did not span that entire time,” King Robert mused. Laurel didn’t need the king’s observations to make her feel like a crone. “You are the queen’s most senior lady-in-waiting, Lady Laurel.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Laurel responded after there was a lull.

“I shall come to the point, Lady Laurel,” King Robert announced. “The time is overdue for you to marry. Your friends have wed, and yet you remain. I understand your unsubstantial dowry is part of the cause.” King Robert left unsaid what all four knew—Laurel’s temperament and reputation were the other cause. “None of the younger ladies may marry until you do.”

“Your Majesty?” Laurel glanced between King Robert and Queen Elizabeth. “I must marry, so the others might, too?”

“Aye. Yours will be the next wedding. Once you are married, the other ladies may move forward with their courtships,” Queen Elizabeth spoke up. Laurel felt as though the air that entered her nose lost its way to her lungs. Her heart thudded behind her breastbone and spots danced at the corners of her eyes.

“Who do you wish me to marry, Your Majesty?” Laurel struggled with each word.

“I do not have a groom chosen. Since Montgomery is here, I thought to leave the task to him,” King Robert said dismissively.

Queen Elizabeth stepped forward, concerned by Laurel’s wan pallor. Laurel’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. When the queen reached for Laurel’s hands, Laurel realized they’d gone ice cold. Just like the rest of her, just like her heart. They would marry her off in haste to a man desperate enough to take a bride who came with little investment. She wondered what manner of man he would be. Anger and fear waged a tug-of-war within her chest.

“I will ensure it is a mon who will treat you kindly, Laurel. It won’t be a mon who will abuse you or only look upon