Macbeth's Niece (8 page)

Instead, Eleanor laughed, a warm, lovely
sound, and once more put an arm around Tessa. “I believe I know
exactly what you have suffered!” She put her face close to Tessa’s,
her eyes dancing. “They said the same of me once. It’s the reason I
am married to William Brixton!”

“I don’t understand.” Tessa frowned, shaking
her head. How could this paragon be considered unladylike?

The paragon’s face was full of mischief. “As
a girl, I preferred riding to sewing, being outside to learning
wifely chores. I had prospects, but I said too much of what I
thought, and men were offended by it.”

“Why that is what my mother said of me!”
Tessa exclaimed in wonder. “My face should have been my fortune,
she told me, but my tongue ruined all.”

Eleanor’s face grew solemn. “Could it be our
parents who were wrong, and you and I merely more independent than
some might wish their children to be?”

Tessa laughed. “Father used to say I had too
much spirit for the local boys. But after he died, my mother hoped
to marry me well to ease her path in life. I was a disappointment
to her with my wild ways.”

Eleanor nodded. “Because she couldn’t
control you as she wanted to. My father, a very stern man, found me
too outspoken. My mother died when I was four, and without her
influence, I did grow up rather wild. Once he bothered to notice
me, Father became determined I would be taught how to behave
properly. At ten I was sent to a convent where I was trained—” here
her eyes turned hard and she folded her arms as if a chill passed
over her. “—sometimes with force, to become a ‘suitable’
female.”

Tessa gasped, but Eleanor went on calmly.
“In addition, my father searched long and hard for a strong husband
who would quell what he saw as my rebellious nature. He found
William Brixton, heir to Brixton Hall—” Here her voice became
bitter. “—who sought only a wife of great beauty. We never spoke
until the day of our wedding. Jeffrey was sent to interview me and
appraise my suitability, since William was newly Lord Brixton and
too busy with his affairs to take the time. Jeffrey and I liked
each other at once, and I was silly enough to believe his brother
might be somewhat like him.”

“So you had no idea what sort of man your
husband was?” Tessa was intrigued. She’d had few choices of a mate
in her home in the mountains, but she knew each of them, both their
strengths and their weaknesses.

“None. It pleased my father to exercise his
right to control me in that way. William is much like him, a man
who believes women should have no thoughts of their own. He took a
wife because it’s expected of the lord of Brixton Manor. He chose
me to give him fine sons and make other men jealous.” Eleanor
looked sad at this. “I failed to produce sons for him, but I doubt
if it would have made him any happier in the end.”

“It isn’t fair you were given like a prize,”
Tessa blurted out, outraged for Eleanor.

“It’s the way of things,” Eleanor soothed,
patting Tessa’s arm comfortingly. “Still, I love Brixton. Here I
can ride, walk or boat when I like, toil in the orchards and
gardens with the workers, and—” She grinned impishly. “—avoid the
boredom of endless parties, my husband’s glowering looks, and his
frequent affairs. So you see, I have won, despite the plots of men.
I have the life I want, at least most of it, and can do as I
please.”

Tessa stared at Eleanor. Was she boasting
she had outwitted her father to become relatively free of male
influence, or was it her husband she enjoyed fooling? Did pompous
old Sir William not realize his own brother was in love with his
wife? Suddenly uneasy with the conversation, Tessa began to speak
of flowers.

Later that same week Eleanor again brought
up the subject of Tessa’s supposed failures. Although the day was
fine, Eleanor had claimed fatigue and chosen to stay in when the
others went to pick the delicate wild strawberries that made such
delicious jam. She and Tessa sat together in a small room warmed by
the afternoon sun, which Eleanor used as a sort of retreat. Under
the stone stairway and therefore not much use for any other
purpose, here she kept books and games like Tafl, which she was
teaching Tessa to play. The board that sat between them contained
carved from wood. One player had a king and only a few men to
protect him while the other had no king but more pieces with which
to capture the opposing one. It was a game of strategy, but neither
woman cared much who won or lost.

In the intervening days, Tessa had observed
Eleanor with a new perspective, and she had to admit that life on
the manor allowed activities that did not require genteel manners
or prim ways. Life here was actually the best of possibilities for
Eleanor. She was removed from the husband she did not love, and in
a place where her lover could visit without scandal. She indulged
in her enjoyment of the outdoors and was respected as lady of the
manor.

Eleanor lent a hand in whatever work was
being done on the manor. She oversaw the planting of crops, herded
cattle, and made rush-lights right along with the servants, dipping
rush tips into pitch to make cheap, if smoky, torches. She spoke
honestly with her workers and her neighbors, bargaining, mediating,
and giving orders as needed. Eleanor was as true to her nature as
could be, yet neither Tessa nor anyone else ever thought of her as
anything but a lady. New awareness of Eleanor, her mother, and
herself meant changes that left Tessa unsure of what the best
course for a female was in life, and she found herself thinking on
it often.

Now Eleanor sat still for once, her eyes a
bit cloudy and her posture less erect than usual. She really was
tired, Tessa thought, but she seemed anxious to explain what it had
taken her years to learn on her own.

“I tell you this: the secret of the tomboy
must be timing. You can be feminine and sweet, even simpering if
need be, when the situation requires it, mostly during courtship.
When you are married and secure in your future, become what you
want to be. Married women are more independent than you might
think, if they marry carefully.

“When my father gave me to William, he
thought he had done what was best for me, and perhaps he had, but
not in the way he intended. William is so full of himself that he
all but ignores me, which has allowed me to lead a life I enjoy. A
happy woman needs either a dull husband who ignores her after a
year or a clever one who understands her and respects what she is.
The first is much easier to find, so I propose to help you
accomplish it.”

Tessa was aghast. Here Eleanor sat, calmly
defying custom and belief, claiming women had a right to find
happiness through subterfuge and deceit. Tessa had never considered
choosing a husband with cold calculation, never thought of
appearing to be something she was not in order to capture a man.
Still, she knew her Aunt Gruoch and even her mother had manipulated
their husbands. In a society where women had no choices, clever
ones employed the means at their disposal.

“Are you saying I could have a husband who
would let me live life as I choose?”

“He will have to be a little stupid, as mine
is,” Eleanor replied coolly, shifting a bit with a grimace.
Menstrual cramps, Tessa guessed, and wondered if there was
mistletoe available to soothe them. “William, you see, thinks he is
clever, living in London and having affairs. He doesn’t realize
that as long as I have my home and my freedom, I don’t much care
what he does. Now Jeffrey is not stupid. He would expect more from
a woman than appearances, but he will never marry anyway. The lands
in England have been divided and divided until there is no more to
be gained. You don’t want a landless younger son like Jeffrey, so
we must find you a husband who is rich.”

As if Jeffrey Brixton would be on her list
of potential husbands!

“I can teach you how to dress, walk, and
speak properly, how to converse with a man without intimidating
him, and—” Here her eyes sparkled. “—how to charm his mother, a
very important thing many young women forget. Without a dowry, you
must offer something attractive to the man, which is fairly easy
with your looks, but also to his mother, which is a little more
difficult. It doesn’t do to please only one or the other.”

“Was your mother-in-law pleased with
you?”

Eleanor smiled at the memory and the pinched
look on her face relaxed somewhat. “I liked Lady Brixton very much,
but I’m afraid William was born selfish. She tried to provide for
all her children, but when she died, William ignored her wishes.”
Eleanor looked out the window, her face bleak. “When I first met my
husband I thought him dignified, but I learned later that dignity
is what he holds around himself so no one sees his empty
heart.”

Forgetting the game board before them,
Eleanor rose, her arms wrapped around her middle as she paced the
room. “The law of primogeniture brought William all the property,
and he keeps his brothers paupers, begrudging every penny he spends
on them. Ethelbert, the second son, entered the priesthood, but
William refuses him the funds to get a decent posting, saying
clergymen should observe poverty, as Christ did.” Her tone held a
sneer at her husband’s choplogic. “Aidan you will meet soon. He’s
treated more as a servant than as William’s brother. When Jeffrey
saw how the other two fared, he offered a deal. If William would
outfit him for soldiery, he’d take himself off and never ask for
another cent. It was all William could do to keep from chuckling as
he gave Jeffrey an aging horse and the worst arms from the
storehouse. Still, Jeffrey has done well, becoming a respected
soldier and a trusted aide to those who pay his hire.”

Tessa felt a pang of unexpected sorrow for
Jeffrey, cheated of his inheritance, and for Eleanor, married to a
man she obviously despised. No wonder they found solace in each
other’s arms.

Eleanor looked at Tessa directly, as if
trying to make a decision, then reached down to put a hand on the
girl’s arm. “Do you wonder why I tell you all this?”

Tessa had indeed been wondering. When others
were present, Eleanor never criticized her husband, in fact, seldom
mentioned him. Why had she told Tessa her true feelings? Sitting
again, she leaned against the stone wall and answered her own
question. “I never had a child. I am thirty-five years old and
never even conceived one. I was ashamed at first, but William has
had many other women, and none of them has had a child. He wants
sons badly, but I wanted a daughter to could talk to, nurture, and
perhaps help to a life better than my own. Now you arrive, not my
daughter, true, but in need of help. And you are just in time.”

Tessa looked questioningly Eleanor, who
hesitated again. “If I could help you to find a wealthy husband in
London, would it be a life you could accept? Would you make a home
for yourself in England and perhaps never see Scotland again?”

Tessa considered it. All her life she had
been termed a misfit by her mother, but she had known love: her
father, her sister Meg, even old Banaugh, had held her dear. That
life was gone now, for they probably thought her dead. If she made
a successful marriage in London, what more could she ask? It was
her fate to be stranded in England. The weird old women had spoken
the truth, though she’d dismissed their words then. The English
were no better and no worse than the Scots; some she liked and
others she avoided. In the situation Eleanor proposed there would
be security, protection, and possibly a measure of happiness.

Once again the image of the crones arose
before her, and the words of the second repeated in her mind:
“You’ll find happiness only among the dead.” That settled it, then.
If in truth she would never be happy while alive, then she’d best
take the prospect of security.

“Yes,” she told Eleanor. “There is no reason
to return to Scotland now. I may as well settle as best I can and
hope for children to love. I will try to be a good wife to whoever
will have me.”

Eleanor nodded. “That is wise. I have too
long neglected the other girls’ prospects, hoping William would
take pity on them, but they must have their chance in London as
well. Your arrival has decided me—that and something else.”

Now the blue eyes met Tessa’s directly and
Eleanor leaned toward her. “Now I’ll tell you the rest of the
bargain. No one knows it, but I am not well. A few months ago, I
noticed a bulge here.” She indicated her abdomen. “At first I
thought after all these years I was with child, but soon I knew it
was not so. There is no life there, and there is pain.”

Tessa was shocked at the revelation. “We
must get a physician! You must be given some medicine—”

Eleanor shushed her and said calmly, “My own
mother died at thirty of a similar disease. There is nothing to be
done.” She touched Tessa’s shoulder lightly. “What I want most is
to help those I love before I die. If I make some difference in
your lives, I will go contentedly enough. All I ask in return is
that when I say it’s time, you must fetch for me a bottle I shall
have ready.”

“A bottle?” Tessa asked,
uncomprehending.

“Something that will help me end the
pain.”

Realization dawned on the girl’s face.
“Poison?”

“To some.” Eleanor smiled. “But if one is in
great pain, it’s a blessing to stop it.”

Tessa gulped to quell the lump that rose in
her throat. If this was what Eleanor wanted, when the time came she
would be strong for her.

Chapter Eight

Eleanor wasted no time beginning Tessa’s
transformation. The first thing she did, though daring, effectively
ended any question of Tessa’s stature in the house. At dinner one
evening, Eleanor declared Jeffrey had brought Tessa from Scotland
after discovering the two were half sisters. It was true, Eleanor
informed Tessa privately, that eighteen years before her father had
gone to Scotland as the king’s agent and later died there of a
sudden illness. The story she invented was that he’d married a
Scottish woman and fathered a daughter before his death. Eleanor
had kept it to herself until she was sure, but Tessa was in fact
her younger sister, and they were all going to London for her
introduction to William.