Macbeth's Niece

  Chapter Nineteen

  Amazed, Tessa stood looking down at Hawick’s prone figure for a moment. Finally she raised her eyes to see Jeffrey, wrapped in a black cloak that had served to hide his presence in a shadowed corner of the room. He clutched what looked like the leg of a stool in one hand. Directing his now-familiar look of amusement at Tessa, he asked, “Have I done the right thing, or were you expecting a night of bliss with this fellow?”

  His cool manner irritated Tessa after the tense events of the evening. “Of course not,” she snapped. “They forced me to marry the man.”

  “Well, then, we must do what we can to get you away from here before they discover your objections to being an outlaw’s wife.”

  Tessa said no more, though she understood nothing. Jeffrey seemed to change from one moment to the next, but if he was willing to help her escape, she was certainly no worse off to go with him than she had been moments ago. She moved to assist him as he gagged Hawick’s mouth with his own belt. Together they tied the limp hands tightly with strips of cloth torn from the bed linen, then lifted him onto the bed, tying him to the slats so he would not be able to move when he woke.

  “Now, how are we to get out?” Jeffrey mused as he checked the tension of the knots. “The gates will be shut by now, and I may be missed at any moment.”

  “Where were you?” Tessa asked.

  “While you were being prepared for a fate worse than death, the lovely Mairie suggested we go for a stroll in the autumn evening, actually more a command than a request. She was very cool about it, I must say, but I had my suspicions. Still, she got me out of the hall with no one to wonder where I might be, so I went along. She locked me in the stables, having some suspicion I might interrupt your nuptials, which it turns out she was quite correct to conclude.” Jeffrey grinned in the torchlight.

  “It serves you right for chasing after that painted wench,” Tessa began, but a thought cut short her tirade. “Oh, Jeffrey, I can’t be married to this man!”

  Brixton misunderstood her meaning. “Well, they did get a priest, but I believe your uncle will see to an annulment when he understands you were coerced into marriage.” It was a hopeful thought, although Jeffrey didn’t know everything. Tessa could not bring herself to mention her first marriage at the moment. It was too complicated, but the thought Macbeth could arrange an annulment might work as well for Cedric as for Hawick.

  “I hope my uncle does not tire of my explanations. I have been nothing but a problem to him. First he must take me in, then I reappear from the dead, and now I’ll be needing a marriage dissolved.”

  “He has problems to deal with much larger than you,” Jeffrey grimaced. “Still, we must get you away from here and back to him, which won’t be easy.”

  As he spoke, Jeffrey searched Hawick’s pockets and recovered the key. Unlocking the door, he peered into the passageway then signaled Tessa to follow. He locked the door behind them and set the key high on a rafter, out of sight. They crept down the narrow stone passageway toward the stairs leading to the great hall, where they could hear the revelers still drinking and talking, their drunkenness obvious from the volume and tone of the proceedings. A smaller, darker passage led off on the other side of the stairs, and with great care not to be seen, they crossed the open space and entered it.

  “The servants’ quarters,” Jeffrey whispered. “If we’re lucky, they’re still at work downstairs.”

  They were not that lucky, for a moment later Brenda came out of a room, her brown eyes widening at the sight of the two of them. Jeffrey motioned for her to be quiet, and Tessa felt his body tense to grab the girl if she disobeyed. Quickly Brenda made up her mind. Pointing over her shoulder, she bade them follow.

  A few steps down the corridor was a small room mostly taken up by a spiral staircase. Brenda whispered quickly, “This stair goes down the back o’ the house. If ye are careful, ye can go through the scullery t’ the bin where th’ peat is stored. Above it is a chute that leads outside. Once there, ye must be watchful, for folk are about and the gate is already shut for the night. I dinna know how ye macht ge’ oot o’ the place.”

  “I have some ideas on that,” Jeffrey told her. “But I thank you for your help.”

  “We are very grateful, Brenda,” Tessa whispered.

  “Master Brixton has a’ been kind t’ me,” the girl said simply, “and it hurt me t’ see ye forced to marry Hawick, even if ye be not really married to ‘im. Tha’s an evil man.” Jeffrey gave Tessa an odd look but asked no questions, his mind focused on their escape.

  With a quick hug for Brenda, Tessa followed Jeffrey down the back stair. They found the scullery easily enough, and the chute, though a tight fit for Jeffrey’s shoulders, was big enough to allow passage. Once outside, Jeffrey wrapped Tessa in his black cape to hide the white of the gown, not so white as it had been a few minutes before. They slipped through the shadows toward the stables, staying close to walls and objects in the courtyard to hide themselves from sentries on the parapet.

  Since the guards’ attention was focused on what went on outside the bailey, not inside, no one noticed them as they approached the stable end where a small shed housed grain for the animals. Jeffrey indicated where he had escaped by loosening a board on the side wall. They entered the same way and were soon out of sight.

  “We are safe for a few hours,” Jeffrey announced softly. “Mairie promised she’d let me out in the morning. I suppose she believed I would lose interest in interceding once the wedding had been consummated.”

  “And why did you intercede?” Tessa asked him. “You say you don’t remember me yet release me from a man who will kill you if he finds out. At times it seems you care nothing about me, then you risk your life to help. Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeffrey spoke honestly. “I know I care what happens to you, no matter what we have been to each other in the past.”

  A rather nervous cough sounded just then from a haystack in one corner of the room. “Who’s there?” Jeffrey called out. He still clutched the stool leg, his only weapon. Tessa smiled as the smell of cumin arose.

  “Never fear, I am a friend,” said a voice, and Banaugh’s face appeared in the gloom.

  “Banaugh! Oh, Banaugh, I thought you were dead!” Tessa ran to the old man and embraced him, delighted to find that he lived. “I thought they had—How—?” She stopped in confusion.

  Banaugh chuckled in the darkness. “Thank yer young man there, Master Brixton. After Hawick told his tame wolf t’ kill me, he rode off. Jeffrey stayed behind, and ye should ha’ seen the show he put on. I was convinced m’sel he were a monster. ‘Let me kill the auld man,’ he says, cool as you please. ‘I have a score to settle with him and with the girl.’” Banaugh caught Jeffrey’s clipped accent with the skill of a practiced storyteller. “He even slipped th’ man a gold coin as a bribe!”

  “I steal them from Hawick’s coffer. How else can I make friends among these mercenary types?”

  Banaugh chuckled. “He was a’ so convincin’. The man agreed t’ it, can ye imagine? I though’ I was done then! Jeffrey guides me off into the brush and then tells me t’ let out m’ death yell. I was willin’ enough, and he throws a rock into the river, like it were m’ corpse, y’ ken.” Though she could not see the old man’s face in the darkness, Tessa could picture the grin that spread across it as he described Jeffrey’s cleverness. “So he saved m’ life, and I ha’ been hidin’ here until I could think of how t’ rescue ye. Now that he’s got ye away from Hawick, we shall a’ get out o’ this den o’ thieves somehow.”

  Tessa turned back to Jeffrey, whose face was becoming slightly visible as her eyes got used to the darkness. “So you haven’t fallen in with these people?”

  Jeffrey let out a sound of mixed laughter and disgust. “If you knew how I’ve lied, flattered, and smiled to stay alive all these months! When the men who took me from the sea brought me here I was quite helpless with what was probably a broken skull. Hawick almost killed me t
hen rather than go to any bother, but little Brenda nursed me back to health, at least in body. Once I recovered, Mairie decided she found me interesting, so I was allowed to live. They had my papers and sent a ransom letter to my family—to my brother?” He stopped, a question in his voice.

  “Your brother William holds the Brixton title.”

  “And he hates me?”

  Tessa tried to be tactful. “Not hates, I daresay. I believe William loves only money. You and he did not see eye to eye, and you left home to be a soldier. He probably feels he owes you nothing.”

  “Not very brotherly, to leave one at the mercy of this lot.” Jeffrey’s tone was angry, and Tessa could not blame him. William, in his safe dwelling in London, could not imagine what it had been like for Jeffrey to live in constant danger of having his throat cut the moment Hawick ordered it. But then, according to what she knew of William, the affairs of anyone other than himself seemed to be of little concern to the man. Had he not ordered her out of his house knowing full well she had nowhere to go? Cedric had saved her then, but it was only Cedric’s lust for power—and for her—that had made him take her part. Were all men concerned only for their own desires?

  Still, Tessa had done the same thing: used what was available to her to survive. Could she blame Jeffrey for dallying with Mairie when it had kept him alive? If she did, then Aidan was correct to condemn her marriage to Cedric. Both were choices made for survival, not for love.

  “He’s not an overly kind man, your brother,” was all she said. “I believe I saw the one they call Dougal at Brixton shortly before I left, looking angry. I suppose William had dismissed him, thinking him a liar.”

  “And why did you leave Brixton?”

  “After Eleanor died, William discovered I was not Eleanor’s sister, as she and I had led him to believe. He requested I leave.”

  Jeffrey’s face told her he understood immediately the predicament she had been in, the unwelcome guest of a man such as William. She wondered how much of his memory had returned, but he made no reference to his role in her abduction. “As you say, my brother is not overly kind,” he said with great irony. “What did he expect you to do, on your own in a strange country?”

  Again Tessa left out the marriage to Cedric, acknowledging her own cowardice in doing so. “Your Aunt Madeline helped me to return to Scotland. At my uncle’s castle, I learned you might be alive.”

  “And so came to rescue me?” His voice took on the tone of amusement that never failed to irritate Tessa. How dare he sneer at her efforts to help!

  “Only to be betrayed by you to Hawick and his henchmen. How could you do such a thing?” As anger returned, her voice rose.

  “I meant no sarcasm,” Jeffrey assured her. “I’ve never before been rescued by a contentious Scotswoman, and I must adjust my masculine pride accordingly.” This time the amusement was directed at himself, and Jeffrey put a hand on Tessa’s shoulder to calm her. “I did not want to betray you, but I had to tell Hawick something. After you left, I returned to the castle to find them preparing to ride out. Hawick was pleased with himself, I could tell, and he let slip that he expected to find ‘a bit of gold along the road to Jedburg.’ It seems a local innkeeper reported to him that a man and a boy who came through had the king’s gold in their possession. He was smart enough to let you be seen leaving his property, so when you came up missing later, he could swear you’d departed in safety. The intention, though, was that you’d not get far.”

  “So you betrayed my identity to keep me alive,” Tessa said, realizing the danger she and Banaugh had escaped.

  “I had to think quickly to save your friend,” Jeffrey said with some pride in his acting ability. “But then, Hawick doesn’t hire his men for their impressive brains.”

  Tessa felt she had misjudged Jeffrey badly, and she tried to atone. “I am sorry. If I had known, I would not have struck you in the eye—”

  Banaugh’s cackling laugh sounded beside her. “She hit you, did she? Ah, the lass can fight, always has done.”

  Jeffrey cut him off, embarrassed by the topic. “Now you know why I acted as I did.”

  Tessa related Hawick’s comment of the night before that he might rid himself of Jeffrey. She tried to spare his feelings, being tactful about Mairie’s comment, but Jeffrey saw the truth of it and laughed.

  “Do you think I don’t know what a treacherous liar Mairie is? I have used her to stay alive, knowing her brother will deny her nothing, but I never deluded myself she has even one genuine feeling for me or anyone outside herself in that beautifully coiffed head. They are quite a pair, the two of them: he grotesque and rotten, she lovely and even more so.”

  Surprised, Tessa told herself she should have known. Jeffrey, who could himself act many parts, would be the first to recognize the actress in Mairie.

  “Still, I can delay them long enough for you two to get away,” Jeffrey mused.

  “No!” Without analyzing why, Tessa was unwilling to be separated again from Jeffrey. “We came here to get you out, and you must come with us.”

  Jeffrey’s face was visible now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but after a pause, she could hear the old amusement return to his voice. “It was just a thought. If I must come with you to get you to leave this place, then I must. Now get some sleep. We must be ready at first light to make our escape.”

  She was surprised he agreed so easily, but perhaps it was just as well. The tension of the evening had drained her of all but the tiniest bit of energy to make this last demand. Gratified that Jeffrey gave in, and finding she really was quite tired, Tessa did as he suggested, though doubtful she could actually relax. Some time later, she realized sleep had indeed been possible, in fact, inevitable. Awaking as light began to creep into the stable, she saw Banaugh and Jeffrey talking quietly on the other side of the room. They stopped when she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “Jeffrey—”

  “Hush,” was his answer. “We’re listening for someone’s coming to release me. It could be any time now.”

  Tessa spent a few minutes combing the straw from her hair with her fingers. Soon a carefree whistle was heard outside. Someone was coming to let Jeffrey out of his makeshift prison. Her attention was focused on the door, so she never sensed Banaugh coming up behind her. Before she knew it, his wiry arm was around her waist and the other hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Dragging her into the corner behind the door, he held her tightly while Jeffrey watched with approval.

  At that moment there was a rattling from outside as the latch-pin was removed from the catch. When the door opened, Jeffrey rushed out in a feigned rage, knocking the servant who had opened the door back and slamming the door behind him.

  “Where is the woman? I will tear out her hair by the roots! How dare she leave me to shiver in there all night with only mice for company?” His voice grew fainter, but he continued his tirade all the way to the house. Tessa realized in despair he was making sure no one looked into the tiny storage room where the two of them hid.

  Once it was quiet again, Banaugh released Tessa. She said nothing, knowing they had done this for her, but her heart quailed for Jeffrey’s safety. “He will mak’ his escape and mee’ us on th’ river,” Banaugh soothed her. “We ha’ arranged a place.”

  Picking up the pack with her boy’s clothes inside and handing it to her, the old man turned his back. Tessa quickly dressed in her disguise, reflecting that for a second time she was exchanging an exquisite wedding dress for rough boy’s clothing. The crone’s prediction suddenly rang in her ears; “Two men who marry you will never be your lover.” So far that was true; maybe it meant they would escape Hawick’s clutches. “Your true lover will forget your name,” the third one had said.

  Jeffrey had forgotten her name, but he was not her lover, was he? He claimed to care about what happened to her, had seemed at times to be attracted to her. Tessa could not decide what kind of man Jeffrey Brixton was. It could simply be that he was grateful for her attemp
ts to find him, or maybe he was a man who loved adventure and women too well to resist either, or, most likely, she didn’t understand him at all. Pulling her hair back into a knot, she covered it with the hood that hid its color and shine, then said to Banaugh, “I’m ready.”

  “We must get t’ the river if we can,” Banaugh told her. “There’s an old rowboat there tha’ I ha’ patched as best I could, and in the mornin’ mist, we should be able to ge’ far enow downriver t’escape th’ scoundrels. We must ge’ t’ Jedburgh an’ book passage on a ship. ’Tis the fastest way t’ put distance twixt us and Hawick.”

  “But we have no money!” Tessa protested.

  “Och, but we do,” Banaugh replied. “Tha’ day when I heard the horses comin’ behind us, I dropped the purse into the bushes at the side o’ the road. Ye never ken wha’ t’ expect i’ these parts, bu’ ye can usually expect trouble. Later I went back an’ picked it up again.” Tessa smiled at his canny forethought. What would she do without Banaugh?

  Their first task was to escape Hawick’s courtyard. “How are we to get out of the gate? It may be open, but it will be guarded. They’ll be looking for me soon if they aren’t already.”

  “Yer Master Brixton thought o’ that.” Banaugh left the stable, first checking to see that no one was around, and returned shortly with a barrow. “It is sma’, but then, so are ye. Ge’ in an’ I will cover you with straw.”

  Tessa did as she was told and soon was bumping along the path toward the gate. It was terrifying to lie there, unable to see what was happening. A coarse voice called for Banaugh to stop. The old man had pulled his cap low and bent over to hide his face, appearing to be an ancient worker from some nearby farm.

  “Where do you go so early, old man?” said the voice.

  “Home, to the west o’ here,” Banaugh squeaked. “I ha’ straw for my dovecote, and I ha’ paid for it, too, with pigeon eggs for the master’s table. My ladybirds will ha’ soft bedding this night.” His voice sounded so querulous Tessa herself almost didn’t recognize it. Then he began to sing, “Coo, coo,” in an idiotic manner.

  “Go on with you, then!” the guard growled. As Banaugh plodded on slowly, so slowly Tessa thought she might go mad, the gruff voice growled, apparently to another standing nearby, “Crazy as a bedbug.”

  Banaugh continued down the path until they were far enough away to not be heard. “The benefits o’ lookin’ ancient, lassie, which ye wi’ not know for some time yet. An’ seemin’ a bit addled doesna hurt, either.”

  Finally they reached the trees that lined the Teviot River, and Banaugh wheeled the barrow into some trees, out of sight of Hawick’s castle. Tessa jumped out, brushing off her clothes as they hurried to the riverbank. Banaugh untied the rowboat, which did not look at all serviceable to her with its gray wood and the green slime growing on the bottom. “Dinna worry, lass, we’ve not far to go in it,” Banaugh encouraged as he helped her in. Taking up two crudely made oars he had fashioned from driftwood, he guided the boat into the current.

  Water began immediately to seep in around the rags and grass Banaugh had used to stop the holes. Without a word he handed Tessa his tin cup. She bailed as he rowed, and they were away.