Macbeth's Niece (41 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Jeffrey came to visit a week later. By that
time Tessa was almost sick with wondering what was to come. She had
tortured herself with thinking he might have reconsidered his
relationship with her now that he was established as Lord Brixton.
Would he be embarrassed to take as his lady a Scottish girl with no
prospects, one whose family was despised in England? When he
arrived at Mary’s door, Tessa had steeled herself to accept his
rejection calmly if it came. After all, she wanted him to be happy,
and if he chose to look elsewhere—

Ushered into the room by a blushing servant,
Jeffrey looked wonderful, though he flinched when Francis,
forgetting himself, slapped him on the shoulder playfully. He wore
a brown tunic of fine brocade over tan leggings and a white
undershirt, all cut to fit perfectly. Over it all hung a short cape
lined with fur and dyed a deep green. Tessa had enough notice of
his visit that she had dressed carefully in another of Mary’s
gowns, a dark blue velvet with a square bodice and a silken drape
of paler hue that set it off nicely.

They sat in the great room with Mary and
Francis, Jeffrey updating them with news of what had been learned.
“There was a report of a French woman taking passage across the
channel to Calais from a London dock, traveling alone except for
two servants.”

“Did one of the ‘servants’ have a huge torso
and disproportionately small legs?” Tessa asked.

“You are very perceptive,” Jeffrey said,
smiling at her suspicion.

“From there they could return to Scotland or
stay in France,” Francis commented. “I’m afraid they’ve quite
escaped. There’s little enough pursuit of justice in England or
France these days, and even less in Scotland with conditions as
they are there.”

“Malcolm is probably glad to be rid of
Hawick and the problems he created as an ally to the king,” Tessa
surmised.

Jeffrey made no comment except to thank
Francis for his help once more. He chatted about the changes he was
making at the manor for a few moments, but it was obvious he had
something on his mind. After refreshments, he offered Tessa his
arm. “Shall we walk among Mary’s flowers?” His eyes shone with
humor, for of course there were no flowers in the garden. It was
almost advent. Tessa, understanding his desire to speak with her
alone, hurried to fetch a warm cloak.

They passed along pathways between empty
flowerbeds and leafless bushes. A light snow had fallen, and a
slight wind gusted over it, making swirls around their feet. Tessa
held Jeffrey’s arm and felt no chill at all.

“I have been a fool,” Jeffrey said finally.
“Not once, but several times.”

“Oh?” Tessa answered innocently. “I had not
noticed it.”

Jeffrey looked at her seriously. “It’s true.
I knew, I think, from the first time I met you, that beside your
obvious beauty, you were that most wonderful creature on earth, a
person of character. I remember your spirit when you refused to
dance with the English fop at your uncle’s banquet, and that first
morning when you struggled to escape my grasp—” He smiled.
“Everything was against me, but I loved you even then. But you
hated me, and I couldn’t blame you for it. When Eleanor groomed you
for a brilliant marriage, I was angry. I wanted you for myself, but
I had nothing to offer.”

“I would have taken you for yourself.”

“No man wants the woman he loves to suffer
deprivation on his account,” Jeffrey countered. “I thought if I
could win a grant of land or an official post, I would have some
future to offer you.”

So his pride had stood in the way of his
speaking that day in William’s London home. “So you sailed off into
the North Sea,” she murmured.

“Yes, and lost my memory.”

“You forgot my name.”

Jeffrey looked confused. “What?”

“Oh, it was something some old women told me
once. One said I would travel to England, and you came along and
brought me here.”

“Against your wishes,” he admitted.

“I have forgiven you that,” Tessa told him.
“The second woman said I would find happiness only among the dead.
When I believed you dead it broke my heart.”

“But you searched for me anyway,” Jeffrey
said gently.

“The third woman said the man I loved would
forget my name, and you did—twice.”

“Twice?” he echoed questioningly.

“The one, of course, I must forgive, for you
had a blow to the head and forgot everything. But before, when
first you brought me to Eleanor, you had to ask me my name. That is
harder to forgive.”

“I was so blinded by your beauty I failed to
hear it properly.” Jeffrey grinned. “Will that do for an
excuse?”

“I see you are in truth no longer a rough
soldier, but speak beautiful lies as well as any lord I ever met,”
Tessa answered with matching humor. “I’m sure the prediction
referred to the other forgetting, when you lost your past there in
the borderlands.”

“But you, Tessa of the Highlands, came to
find me. When I saw you by the old oak at Hawick’s, things that had
floated through my mind made sense at last. I knew somehow I loved
you, yet you denied we were lovers. I heard, in my head, your voice
promising revenge and knew I had done you a great wrong. It took
days before my poor brain put all the fragments together, and by
then you were gone again. I came back to London to find you, hoping
we could start anew.” He stopped, uncertain of how to continue.

Tessa gazed up at him, understanding. “You
learned I was married to Cedric. It must have been difficult to
think me other than a fortune hunter.”

Jeffrey smiled. “William’s papers reveal his
investigation into Eleanor’s claim you were her sister. With her
death, you were forced to make hard choices. In her letter, Eleanor
told me she hoped I would come home and marry you myself. I think
she knew I loved you before I did.”

“I was foolish to think your affection for
Eleanor was love,” Tessa admitted.

“I did love Eleanor, as my sister, as a
friend. But not as I love you.” Tessa’s heart did strange things
inside her. “Aidan told me you and he were lovers. He described the
inn and hinted he’d been there many times.”

Tessa said sadly. “I’m sorry to say it,
Jeffrey, but your brother was a very able liar. All along I thought
him kind and helpful, always at my side when I needed him. Only
once or twice did I see the mask slip, and I was stupid enough to
brush those glimpses of the real Aidan away, thinking them only
moments of frustration.”

“It appears Aidan had long been a cheat,”
Jeffrey shook his head in disgust. “Now that I know what to look
for in William’s records, I have found he was being fooled
repeatedly by Aidan. Money was siphoned off, information sold to
the highest bidder, and many other betrayals lined Aidan’s
pockets.”

“How upset he must have been when you came
back from the dead.”

“And how much more upset when he learned it
was you who was responsible,” Jeffrey said with a chuckle. “At the
last, though, he proved his love for you.”

“Yes, we must remember that final good,” was
all Tessa replied. She had not told anyone of Aidan’s threat to
give her to the outlaws for sport. Jeffrey had enough to deal with
regarding his brother’s perfidy as it was. Would he really have
done it, or had it been merely a threat to make her choose him? She
didn’t know.

“Well, he’s gone,” Jeffrey finished. “It’s
time to speak of us.”

Tessa mind ran ahead. Jeffrey had confessed
he loved her, but now he was a lord and she a pauper. Did it make a
difference? Evidently it didn’t, because suddenly Jeffrey was on
bended knee before her.

“Mistress Tessa macFindlaech, of the
bloodline of kings and the pride of Scotland, will you be my wife,
give up your homeland, and live in England for the rest of your
days?”

Tears sprang to her eyes. Suddenly she
understood that what they had gone through together had united
them. Changes in status meant nothing. She had been a king’s
kinswoman when Jeffrey was nothing but a man. Now he was a lord and
she nothing but a woman. What they were to each other was
enough.

“My lord, she answered him, “I would be
honored to be your wife.”

Afterword

The facts are
sketchy, but here are some that help to separate the man from the
myth.

Macbeth (1005-1057A.D.) was king of Scots
for seventeen years, from 1040 until his death. His correct name is
Mac Bethad mac Findlaich (son of Findlaich). His father, a local
king, was killed in 1020, possibly by his brother, Gille Coemgain.
When his uncle died, Macbeth married his widow, Gruoch, and took in
her son, Lulach.

The character we know as Duncan was probably
Donnchad, who took the throne in 1034. The king was not old, but he
is characterized in the Prophecy of Berchan as “the man of many
sorrows.” In 1040, Donnchad was killed by Macbeth in a battle near
Elgin. Macbeth became king, though strife over the kingship
continued, not unusual in eleventh-century Scotland. Some reports
indicate that Donnchad’s wife fled the country with her sons Mael
Coluim and Domnall, both future kings of Scotland.

Once Macbeth had cemented his position, he
made a pilgrimage to Rome in 1050, where he was noted for his
generosity to the poor. In 1052, an English conflict overflowed
into Macbeth’s territory with the result that Siward, Earl of
Northumbria, invaded Scotland. A bloody battle resulted in which
3000 Scots and 1500 Englishmen died, including one of Siward’s
sons. Macbeth survived the English invasion but was defeated and
mortally wounded in a battle with Mael Coluim mac Donnchad, the son
of former king, in 1057. He was succeeded by his stepson.

No reports from the time indicate Macbeth
was a tyrant. He is called “Mac Bethad the renowned” and described
as “the generous king of Fortrin” by contemporaries. A poetic
history of the time describes Macbeth as “The red, tall,
golden-haired one. Scotland will be brimful west and east during
the reign of the furious red one.”

Shakespeare was a master of the docu-drama,
the practice of turning history into compelling fiction. In a time
when a Scottish king ruled England (James V was descended from Mael
Coluim III), it could be expected that a writer who depended upon
the king for his livelihood would glorify that king’s ancestry.
Macbeth therefore became a tyrant in the play, a man so depraved
that it was a boon to his people to remove him from office. It is
interesting to note, however, the playwright found far more
interest in the character of the tyrant, in his fall from brave
warrior to depraved maniac, than in the righteous Malcolm.
Shakespeare’s Macbeth is a disservice to the historical king, who
was no better or worse than other kings of his day. The character
created for “the Scottish play” is compelling in his all-too-human
desire for power, which leads to the release of his unfortunate
alter-ego, “the secret’st man of blood.”

Other Books by Peg
Herring

Another Macbeth’s Niece Story

If you liked Tessa’s adventures, you’ll
enjoy
Double Toil & Trouble,
a second story of Macbeth’s
nieces.

Ten years after Macbeth’s death, twins Jenna
and Jessie are living in the Highlands when a band of Vikings takes
over their clan-hold, seeking to kill any remaining males of the
former king’s line. Jessie is taken as a hostage, and Jenna must
try to rescue her and also warn Tessa that the Vikings intend to
find her and murder her sons.

Each girl struggles to escape their enemies.
Each finds a protector. But neither can admit, even to herself, the
love that begins to grow as time goes by.

http://www.amazon.com/Double-Toil-Trouble-Macbeths-Nieces-ebook/dp/B01AI4GB0U/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1453480791&sr=8-4&keywords=double+toil+%26+trouble

The Simon &

Elizabeth Mysteries

This Tudor-era series follows the adventures
of apothecary Simon Maldon, who meets Elizabeth Tudor when she’s
only a girl. They form an odd sort of friendship as they begin
solving murders together. As her status changes from princess to
prisoner to queen, their friendship remains the same, for Simon is
a man even the Queen of England can trust to tell her the
truth.

Her Highness’ First Murder

Poison, Your Grace

The Lady Flirts with Death

Her Majesty’s Mischief

Contemporary Mysteries

The Loser Series

Loser sleeps in alleys and washes up in gas
station rest rooms, but when the father of a child she knows is
accused of murder, she must get it together and help—even if it’s
been a while since she could even help herself.

Killing Silence

Killing Memories

Killing Despair

The Dead Detective Mysteries

What if when you were murdered, the Powers
on the Other Side allowed you to find out why? Sleuth Seamus is a
cross-back detective who returns to Life to investigate crimes so
the victims can trust “rest in peace.”

The Dead Detective Agency

Dead for the Money

Dead for the Show

Dead to Get Ready—and Go (2016)

Standalone Mysteries

If you’re not ready to commit to a series,
try one of these standalones.

Somebody Doesn’t Like Sarah Leigh

A Lethal Time and Place

Shakespeare’s Blood

Go Home and Die