So courtly.
A sob lodged in her throat.
Yes, my pet, I am impressed.
James clapped his hands together and stood. “Queen Margaret. Lords and ladies. Learned men of the law and clergy. We are here to determine a matter concerning my ward Lady Marjorie Hepburn and my champion Sir Lachlan Ross. I will hear facts and honest opinion. I will not permit a spectacle. Do so proceed, Master Boyd.”
The lawyer stood and doffed his cap. “Your Graces. Learned friends. We are here to examine grave offenses against the crown, committed by the man and woman so accused…”
Janet twisted her fingers together.
The reckoning had begun.
…
Once, he’d had the greatest respect for learned men. But in one day, Boyd and Douglas had turned his good opinion forever.
Lachlan watched in enraged silence as the lawyers smiled. As they paced. As they gestured.
As they lied.
The things they’d said in this hall to Marjorie, the half truths and twisting of her words, the “evidence” from Angus Campbell and Aileen Campbell. Sneering comments about his humble illegitimate birth. His “murder” of the four men who had attacked the wagon and threatened the ladies.
And through it all, James said nothing, just sat in brooding silence. If it weren’t for Lady Janet, his steadfast mistress, he might have thought he’d been forsaken entirely. But he hadn’t been. Nor had Marjorie. They might not have seen Lady Janet for days, nor had she spoken of love, but her deeds spoke for her. In truth, deeds were far more reassuring. The two lawyers had just proven how false and worthless words could be.
“A-hem! Sir Lachlan. Please do favor the court with an answer to the question,” said Master Douglas, his words near dripping with disdain.
Plague take it. Which one now? It seemed as though the smiling viper had fired a thousand poisoned arrows, and he could scarcely think anymore. “C-could you r-repeat it?”
“Beg pardon, sir?”
Lachlan gritted his teeth at the overloud tone, the sly looks, the muffled laughs and whispers behind hands at his faltering speech. “I…ah…asked…”
“Sir Lachlan requested that the question be repeated, Master Douglas,” the king said crisply. “Listen more closely.”
The lawyer blinked and mopped his brow with a linen square. “Yes, Your Grace. Sir Lachlan, on the twentieth day of July, Lady Janet received a missive from our good queen. Did she inform you of the contents?”
“Aye.”
“And what did it say?”
“You know…what it s-said.”
Master Douglas gave him a pitying look, as though he were a witless child. No doubt in the courtroom he was. But with a longsword or other weapon, he would best the lawyer with one hand tied behind his back. “Please, Sir Lachlan. For the court—”
James clapped his hands once. “The letter said Her Grace the queen had arranged a marriage for Lady Marjorie to an English baron in Carlisle two weeks hence. Master Douglas, as you seem to be struggling with the art of questioning a witness, and for the sake of brevity, I ask you to sit and allow your learned friend to continue.”
Master Boyd rose to his feet and replaced his red-faced friend. “Sir Lachlan. Pray tell, how did the household react to the letter, and what did you do next?”
Lachlan scowled at the memory of Marjorie’s tears, of Lady Janet’s worried pacing as she thought of a plan. For that injustice, for the love he bore the two women in his life, both strong in their own way, both courageous in overcoming adversity…he would force his wretched mouth to work. He would make these lawyers and all the people present understand. “Distress. As Lady Marjorie said…she did not want…to marry an Englishman. So I offered. To wed her.”
“For coin?”
“No,” he snarled.
“Come now, sir, there is no shame in coin changing hands. You are a man of little means. Surely you must have expected payment for so great a burden in defying an order of our good queen. And Lady Marjorie is an heiress.”
“No.”
Master Boyd laughed. “So you chose to commit a terrible act…for nothing?”
“Not for nothing. Because I cared. Because it was right. Because she is…a good woman. The very best.”
“How interesting. But you knew it was terrible, for you rode away with Lady Marjorie to St. Andrews without informing the guards. Did you inform Lady Janet?”
“Lady Janet was…in the chapel,” he replied. The lawyers were not the only ones who could speak a half truth. “Praying.”
“I see. But this next part is where it becomes…unclear. You claim to have wed Lady Marjorie in an irregular ceremony, with a written promise, witnessed and signed by a Master Shaw and his clerk.”
A chill prickled the back of Lachlan’s neck. “What is unclear?”
“My learned friend and I searched and searched, but we could not find either this Master Shaw or his clerk. Nor can you produce any evidence of this promise—”
“I gave you…the d-document.”
Master Boyd shook his head sadly. “No, sir, you did not. I can only conclude that this tale of a marriage is false and fraudulent and that Lady Marjorie is in fact free to wed as Her Grace the queen so arranged.”
The room erupted. Queen Margaret clapped her hands in delight, and James sat forward in his chair, his brow creasing. His advisers offered loud opinions among themselves, and the queen’s ladies whispered and giggled. Stunned at the bold lie from a man supposedly here to uphold the law, Lachlan glanced at Marjorie. Very deliberately, she tilted her head toward the hall fireplace, and understanding dawned. Burned. The vermin had burned his copy of the marriage promise.
Did they find the second copy?
“Silence,” snapped the king.
