Free Macbeth's Niece by Peg Herring Page A

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