“Now that we have come to a happy resolution in the mystery of Miss Keane’s whereabouts,” the king announced, calling the court to order once more, “let us continue on with the matter for which I have traveled to Roscraig in the first place.” He looked to Glenna. “Miss Douglas, please stand.”
* * * *
Glenna’s knees were shaking as she took her place at Tavish’s side before the king.
“How long have you lived at Tower Roscraig?” the king asked.
“I was born here, my liege.” She was determined to keep her voice calm, her answers brief.
“And your father? How long has he been in charge of the Tower?”
Glenna swallowed. “I don’t know.”
The king folded his hands over his stomach. “Who is his family?”
“Douglas is the only family name I have known. From the Carson Town.”
“And you’ve never met them.”
“No, Your Majesty. My father said they were a feuding lot.”
James nodded thoughtfully. “I have heard much the same. Your mother?”
“She died,” Glenna said. “Shortly after I was born.”
“What was the cause?”
“I don’t know. I was yet an infant, my liege.” The crowd tittered, and Glenna’s cheeks heated at the king’s unimpressed frown.
“Why has the village of Roscraig been so decimated?” James pressed. “What of the crops?”
“We have been beset by sickness for years, my liege,” Glenna said. “The last wave is what has touched my father. He was bedridden after a fit took his speech and his legs.”
“And he has always told you that he was laird of Roscraig?”
Glenna lifted her chin. “He never told me; he simply was.”
“Hmm.” James nodded thoughtfully and then looked to Tavish. “I assume you can produce the decree?”
Tavish reached inside his tunic and withdrew the packet Glenna remembered him showing her so long ago. He stepped forward and handed it to the crier, who opened the page and set it before the king.
James’s eyes were fixed on the timbers of the hall ceiling, however. “Read it,” he said in a bored voice.
The crier retrieved the page and cleared his throat before reciting the words scrawled across the page. Each syllable was like a damnation against Glenna’s testimony. Halfway through, Tavish turned his hand to take hold of her fingers. She glanced at him, and it gave her courage.
When the man had finished the page, he returned it to the tabletop, where James picked it up and casually perused it for a moment. He set it away from him with a flick and leaned his temple against his fingers as his eyes looked past Tavish’s shoulder.
“Aye, Lord Hargrave.”
“I must take exception to Master Cameron’s inheritance decree, Your Majesty—Roscraig is not his to receive, for Thomas Annesley long ago gave it over to the man who helped him evade justice. If the Tower should be granted to anyone upon Iain Douglas’s death, it’s Glenna Douglas.”
The king looked intrigued. “Go on.”
“After Thomas Annesley murdered my daughter, he escaped into Scotland. I sent soldiers and a trusted servant to chase him down and bring him to justice. They followed him to Roscraig, his mother’s childhood home…”
Vaughn Hargrave was making good on his threat.
This time, it was Glenna who squeezed Tavish’s hand.
