Macbeth's Niece

  Part of her was only too willing to be convinced. “All right. I’ll meet him and give him the box. It won’t mean anything now, but I will have done what I came to do.”

  Banaugh nodded. “I’ll pack our things and be ready t’ depart when ye’ve taken care o’ that last thing.”

  “Wait for me by the crossing.” Banaugh had given her an idea. If Jeffrey had truly lost his memory, perhaps seeing Tessa in her own clothing would jar his memory. It was so hard to know what to do, or even what she wanted to do. How could she rescue a man who didn’t know who he was and had nowhere to return to anyway? “I’ll join you at the first river bend after I’ve seen him. I will know by then—” Her words trailed off. What would she know? Banaugh asked no questions but moved off to get the pony ready. Tessa stood biting her lip, almost ready to follow the old man and forget the whole thing. What purpose would it serve if he did remember her, the girl he had foisted off on his old lover? And now he had a new one. As if on cue, a voice spoke at her elbow.

  “Jeffrey’s walking along the river, no doubt trying to remember who you are.”

  Turning, Tessa faced Mairie. Before she could answer, the woman went on, the pretty face she showed to the world hard now, revealing her true character. “Don’t bother to lie to me. You deceived the others, but I knew from the start you were no boy. In the first place, your eyes never left Jeffrey’s face last evening. Second, you’re too graceful for any boy in this primitive country.” Her tone dripped loathing for her adopted homeland. “I began wondering, why would a woman come disguised to my brother’s castle? Then I saw you with Jeffrey this morning, and I had my answer. You’re from England, and you’ve come to rescue him from the uncivilized Scots.”

  Tessa found her voice, picking up on the one part she could truthfully deny. “I am a Scot. And if I came for Jeffrey, it appears he doesn’t want to be rescued.”

  Mairie frowned in consternation. “Perhaps. He was quite docile at first, so weak and confused. As time went on and healing began, he became very…sociable and has kept us quite entertained. But our Jeffrey has remembered little things lately that make him restless. Today, he’s quite agitated, no matter how he tries to be attentive.”

  Mairie looked around to assure that no one was listening. “Jeffrey is the only reason I haven’t gone insane in this godforsaken place. Everyone here is crude and disgusting except him, even my brother. Ian believes my presence in his so-called court adds nobility and grace—as if anything could grace this sty!” She paused for a moment. “I suppose Jeffrey is a younger son?”

  “His brother is the lord of Brixton,” Tessa replied. “Jeffrey is the fourth son.”

  “I thought as much when no ransom was paid. It’s too bad. I could fall in love with such a man if he had prospects. Still, Jeffrey amuses me, and I prefer he stay here until I can convince my brother to let me return to France and live among civilized people again.”

  “What happens to Jeffrey then?”

  “I couldn’t say,” was the airy reply. Tessa had begun to see the ugliness beneath this beautiful exterior. Now Mairie grasped her arm tightly, nails digging in. “I warn you, I shall have him for as long as I want him, so you’d best be off and forget him--as he has forgotten you.” With that she released Tessa and strode off, gradually regaining composure as she went until her walk again became feminine and sedate. Tessa watched with disgust. It was like seeing a glimpse of a worm disappearing behind a perfect leaf.