“We met when I was returning from purchasing fabric, Your Majesty,” Laurel admitted.
“Well met, indeed.” Queen Elizabeth opened her mouth to say more, but a page entered with three missives. He handed one to Laurel and gave the other two to Margaret and Catherine. Laurel broke the seal to hers, recognizing Brodie’s penmanship immediately. She tore her gaze from the missive to look at the queen. Laurel didn’t understand the missive, but she would oblige Brodie’s request.
“Your Majesty, my husband requests my attendance in the Privy Council chamber,” Laurel explained.
“And you wish permission to leave,” Queen Elizabeth surmised, and Laurel nodded. The queen looked at Margaret and Catherine before she responded to Laurel. “What say yours, Lady Catherine and Lady Margaret?”
“Liam Oliphant requests I go to the Privy Council chamber as well, but why would I do that? There is naught there I wish to see or hear,” Margaret sniffed. “I do not run to any mon. He may run to me.”
“My cousin asks that I attend to him too,” Lady Catherine replied. “Why would I wish to be stuck in a chamber full of men looking at maps and discussing things that don’t interest me? If my cousin wishes to speak to me, he can find me at the evening meal.”
Queen Elizabeth turned her attention back to Laurel. The royal raised her eyebrows at her former lady-in-waiting.
“If my husband asks me to attend him, there is a reason. May I go, Your Majesty?” Laurel prayed the woman didn’t refuse her. She didn’t sense it was anything urgent, but it was an excuse to leave the solar. She even wondered if that was Brodie’s intention.
“You may go, Lady Campbell.”
Laurel dipped a low curtsy, then swept out of the chamber before anyone could call her back.
