Stephan proved himself a true lackwit by straightening his posture as if preparing for a great honor to be bestowed upon him like some crown.
“And I bestow ownership of Todlaw, in total, to Laird Robert Duncan, who will be granted his spurs and title of Knight before I depart.”
Shock and cheers made it impossible for any voice to be heard above the din for a good long while. Robert bowed low, then he embraced his father, his towering brother, then found Flanders and did the same.
Todlaw was safe. It was all Flanders had ever wished…until he met Brigid. Now, she was all he wanted. And her fate was all that worried him.
Moray pounded on the arm of the great chair until the hall quieted. “Next,” he said, “is the matter of recompense for the army needed to surround Todlaw.”
Stephan perked up once more and Flanders stomach turned. He knew it had been a mistake to let Moray know about the silver, friend or not. Wealth made men forget themselves, and it looked like the regent was no exception.
“So, Laird Stephan, I put it to ye. What compensation do ye believe would be fair?”
The bastard suggested a sum that was suspiciously close to the value of Heslington’s hoard!
Moray jumped on it. “Done!”
Atholl got some color back in his face and he and Stephan shared a gleeful smile, though the former still kept his distance.
Moray’s brows rose. “How soon can ye have that much delivered here?”
Stephan’s eyes flew wide when he realized the Regent was asking the question of him. “I beg yer pardon, my lord?”
The Regent smiled. “I asked how soon ye can have that sum delivered here. I’ll need time, ye see, to divide it between the Campbells, MacDonalds, The Earl of Mar, Clan Lennox, the Stewarts, and of course, the Morays. It will only be a token compared to their expense. But the clans loyal to Scotland mustn’t be slighted.” He smirked at Atholl. “Isn’t yer wife a Stewart?”
The man ducked in shame. “Isobel. Aye.”
Moray stared the man down a bit longer to make his point.
“But…butIam loyal,” Stephan whined. “I deserve compensation?—”
“For starting this ruckus with false charges?” Moray scoffed. “I am not so generous as Atholl. Now answer the question.”
“I…cannot say how long it would take…to produce actual coin…”
“Then perhaps…Gallabrae can fetch enough.”
“Can fetch…” Stephan shook his head. “All of Gallabrae?”
“All of Gallabrae.”
“Ye’ll add me to the Disinherited?”
“I’ll do no such thing. Whomever has the coin…” He glanced pointedly at Robert. “Shall hold the ransom to Gallabrae until such time as ye can repay that amount…in coin.”
Stephan laughed nervously. “But Majesty, no one would?—”
“I would.” Robert beamed. “I can settle the matter today.”
Stephan took a step toward the Regent, his eyes fixed on the box beneath the other man’s arse. And Flanders wondered if Heslington had been executed for drugging his laird or if he’d been fool enough to give up all his secrets and had suddenly lost his usefulness.
“Well said.” Moray seemed pleased that the new laird of Todlaw had taken the hint. Although, it wasn’t lost on Flanders that the Regent was, in fact, getting his hands on Heslington’s stolen treasure after all. But it was a small price considering Robert would have control of Gallabrae and be able to help all those souls build a better home and a better life than the one they’d suffered under Stephan’s thumb.
Flanders, on the other hand, didn’t intend to hang about. He would take Brigid and find somewhere to live that was safer for women who could make plants sing and grow…and scare horses away.
“That only leaves one matter.” Moray waved his fingers, summoning Brigid forward. When Flanders stepped to the side to block the way, Moray huffed out a breath. “Very well, bring her yerself, Leesborn. But bring her ye will.”
Steady. Trust us.
