“You have come at last! I began to think you had not received my message.”
Sheena sank down in a deep curtsey.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she said apologetically. “I have been waiting to change.”
“Mon Dieu! What a gorgeous gown!” Mary Stuart said admiringly.
She had been speaking English, but now, as if it was easier, she burst into French,
“’Tis ravishing and enchanting! Where did you get anything so lovely? Surely there are not gowns like this in Scotland?”
“No, indeed,” Sheena admitted honestly. “I have never seen anything so exquisite before. It has been given me by Queen Catherine.”
“Queen Catherine!” Mary Stuart exclaimed in surprise. “Then it just cannot be hers. She must have purloined it from one of her Ladies-in-Waiting, perhaps the little Comtesse de St. Vincente, who is
