She struggled to quell the urge to run to Hacon. The hint of success for some of her plans aided her greatly in maintaining some restraint. The king and most of his companions at the table were regarding her with sympathy and concern. That they would react so increased her growing belief that the king was not fully convinced of Hacon’s guilt.
“She doesnae ken what she is saying,” Hacon managed to gasp out as he regained his poise.
Robert the Bruce looked at Jennet. “You realize that the words to which you mean to lay claim are treasonous?”
“Treasonous? Nay, merely angry. The harsh words of a wife who fears for her husband’s weel-being and would try to hold him safe at home. As many women do, I can speak without thought to the consequences.” She hated to say that, but could see from their reactions that the men felt it was true. Most nodded slightly in agreement.
“Some of the things were said ere you became Sir Gillard’s wife.” The king turned toward Balreaves. “Is that not true, Sir Balreaves?”
“Aye, my liege. She was still but a Scottish lass taken in Berwick when the town was rescued from the English.”
When the Bruce looked back at her, Jennet hurried to dull the importance of Balreaves’s words. “My heart was my husband’s long before he honored me by wedding me.” She ignored Sir Niall’s mutters under his breath, knowing he had guessed her ploy but also knowing he would not expose her. “My liege, I cannae understand how a wife’s cross words can carry any weight. In my fears for Sir Hacon and my anger over his many absences, I use my only weapon—words. Aye, I have cursed you and Scotland, but I have also cursed England and Edward. And, my liege, so too have I cursed my husband. I have cursed mud and ponies and rain and even the poor Scots whose wounds I tended.
“I have a quick, sharp tongue. I could fill this room with witnesses to attest to that. They are but words born of anger or fear, spat out and quickly forgotten. Mayhaps my husband should silence me more than he does. But should he die for that failure? Should his name be blackened because his wife cannae keep a still tongue in her head? If such was a crime worthy of death, I fear we would have few men left in the land.”
It annoyed her a little to see the smirks on the men’s faces. However, if she had to stoop to echoing their erroneous opinions about women in order to help Hacon, then she would. She kept her expression wide-eyed and slightly fearful. Sir Niall was starting to irritate her with his constant whispered asides, but she ignored him, promising herself she would save her retaliation for later. In an odd way, he gave her strength.
“Ye were captured in the English-held Berwick,” Balreaves accused. “And when you thought your husband was dead, ye returned to England.”
“That does put some weight behind your words,” the king said.
“ ’Tis where my father took me. It pains me to admit it, my liege, but my father’s honesty is not steadfast. He has been a thief, and he is verra good at parting foolish men from their coin. For many a year now England has been the best place in which to find coin. Even in the much harried northern counties of that country there is more chance of gain than can be found in this land.”
“So, your father is English?”
“Nay, my liege, a Scot. A Graeme.”
“He married an Armstrong from Liddesdale,” Balreaves said, looking toward the Douglas. “Ye ken that group of rogues, do ye not, Sir Douglas?”
Douglas nodded, then flicked his hand toward Balreaves in a gesture of dismissal. “That is of little concern now.”
“Aye, Balreaves.” The Bruce kept his gaze fixed upon Jennet. “Continue.”
After taking a deep breath to steady herself, she did as he commanded. “My father plays at being a Frenchmon when he enters England, one from the English-held parts of France. My husband has met Papa only once—at our wedding. Is he important?” She adopted a look of nervous confusion. “Papa has made no vows of allegiance.”
“Your father goes freely from England to Scotland and back?” demanded the Bruce.
Jennet realized the king’s interest had briefly veered from Hacon and talk of treason. “Somewhat freely, my liege. He is a mon who fights for coin. ’Tis verra hard to explain about Papa. He is a rogue and can make people believe he is what they wish him to be. He has no lands, no liege lord, so wanders about a great deal.”
“Can you find him if you need to?”
“Aye, but, my liege, he is my father.” Unsure of where the king’s interest lay, Jennet was suddenly afraid for her father.
“Ease your fear. I do not ask you to betray the man. ’Tis just that one who moves so freely could be of use to me. Howbeit, back to these charges. Mayhaps the words can be discarded. There remains your husband’s questionable actions at Perth, at Mytton outside of York, and in returning alive from Ireland, escaping with apparent ease from an enemy land.”
Although tense and afraid, for these accusations would be hard to argue against without criticizing the orders given, she donned an expression of sweet confusion. “Questionable? I thought ’twas all weel kenned, with many a witness.”
“Questionable in that he acted against orders at Perth and at Mytton. And how did he escape Ireland?”
“Oh, I fear the same thing that keeps Hacon from silencing me is what prompted his actions at Mytton and Perth.”
Hacon tensed briefly as he realized she already knew he had been at Perth. Knew it, he thought, and had kept that knowledge to herself, clearly finding no fault with him.
“He has a . . . weel”—she shrugged—“a softness of heart. Mayhapstoostrong a sense of mercy. I heard the good Sir James Douglas say so himself at Berwick.” That man leaned closer to the king to briefly confer with the Bruce, and she prayed he was confirming her words.
When the king looked at her again, Jennet fleetingly wondered over the amusement in his expression, then continued, “My liege, when facing your foes, sword to sword, there can be few better than my husband. He is tireless, brave, and skilled. He would ne’er refuse to go to battle in your name. Howbeit, if those he faces hold no sword. . .” She shrugged. “He wasnae needed for the executions at Perth. There were swords aplenty to do the chore.”
“Agreed.”
