"Yes, princess of Emberon," Laura made a brief curtsey. "We are at your command. Your ladies in waiting await your orders." She took Nan's hand and led her to a high-backed oaken chair where Nan seated herself for a moment.
"Your subjects, madame," Laura waved her hand toward the others, and then added, "They don't amount to much, but they are the best we have to offer at present."
"That's treason!" Amelia exclaimed, "treason! We're loyal subjects and true. We are daughters of Scotland and defenders of the Blake clan."
The girls were acting. It was their own version of a scene from a class play they had once acted in at Lakeview. The room's setting had brought it all back to mind. But in acting they were prophesying too, prophesying something even more romantic than the scene the present brought to mind.
"Defenders of the Blake clan! Ah, how it needs you! Come, rally round!" Nan pretended to sound the call to battle as she left her regal seat and plunged into the job of unpacking.
The others followed suit. The stern faces of the ancient lairds of Emberon that looked down on them from heavy gilt frames on the wall never saw six more industrious girls than those in the Lakeview crowd as they unpacked and dressed.
Once Laura looked up at them. "I must say," she said then to Nan, "that this isn't a very cheerful looking bunch of ancestors that is watching us."
Nan paused in her work to look, too. "They aren't, are they?" she agreed, walking around the room and looking intently at each of their faces. "These are portraits, I think, of the first of the lairds of Emberon. A fighting lot they were and as straight-laced as the best of the Scotsmen."
"They look it," Laura answered. "I, personally, feel as though they disapprove of every single dress I'm taking out of this bag."
"Let's see, how should they be made to satisfy those crusty old gentlemen?" She held one up to herself. "It should be tighter in the bodice, have a ruff around the neck, and the skirt," she looked down at the trim pleats in her own, "oh, that's all wrong! It should be long and full, just touching the floor. No wonder they disapprove. I am disgusted myself," she added, looking up at one of the solemn faces and winking.