Page 15 of The Darkland

“I shall take her in hand.” Kirk cut him off. “You may disband the escort.”

Niles did not argue. Turning to the men-at-arms, he began to bellow orders as Corwin collected Micheline’s satchel from her horse. There was a small wagon containing a few trunks and other personal items and he ordered several hovering servants to see to those things. Grasping the red-cheeked bride by the arm, he escorted her past Kirk and Mara without a glance.

Mara watched her sister disappear into the castle. The moment Micheline vanished, she turned to Kirk.

“I do not care what you do to me, I am not going to apologize for my words,” she said in a low voice. “Your precious Lord Edmund is a fiend and if you expect me to….”

He cut her off by yanking her across the bailey. His strides were long and Mara had to run to keep up. Even as he pulled her to a side entrance that led into the castle, still, she refused to recant her words. Just inside the door lay a cool, vacant corridor and he let go of her arm. The moment he fixed her with his stone-gray gaze, however, apprehension began to simmer.

He did not waste any time. Planting himself on a stone seat jutting from the wall, he yanked Mara over his knee and tossed up her skirts. Furious, not to mention terrified, Mara twisted and shrieked as he brought his gigantic palm to bear on her bottom not once, but twice. Listening to her yelp, he paused briefly, his hand hovering above her reddened bum.

“I told you what would happen with your next infraction,” he growled. “No more unbridled words, no more rebellion. Do you understand me?”

She did not answer him, struggling to remove herself from his lap. He spanked her again and her resistance waned.

“Answer me. Do you understand?”

She was breathing heavily against his thighs; he could feel her. “Beat me if you must, Sir Kirk, but I will never surrender to your tyranny. Especially when I speak the truth!”

He swatted her again, not quite as hard, for her buttocks were becoming terribly red. Tender, white, heart-shaped buttocks he would have much rather sank his teeth into than strike with his hand.

“Correct or no, you will listen to me and you will obey.” He suddenly put her skirts down, flipping her onto her back. Cradling her as if she was a very large infant, he wagged a grim finger in her face. “We will not have this conversation again. I spanked you in punishment for your actions, but hear me now as I explain the rules you will live by here at Anchorsholme. There will be no more impolite behavior, no more disobedience. You will present the model of a perfect lady or you will answer to me as you just have. Is this clear?”

Mara’s eyes were wide, staring into orbs of cold steel. He was holding her tightly and had she not been so unbalanced, she might have allowed herself to experience the sensation. But she could only gaze back at him, into the face that Micheline had called handsome. And she suddenly found herself willing to admit, for the very first time, that Micheline had been right. Hewashandsome.

“It… it is,” she heard herself whisper, hardly believing that she was giving in so easily. But she couldn’t seem to control her submission, a submission accompanied by a weakening warmth. The longer he glared at her, the more powerful the warmth became.

“Good.” He, too, could hardly believe she had surrendered as easily as she had. In fact, it was too good to believe. “If I need to pound out another rhythm on your buttocks to underscore my point, then I shall be happy to do so.”

Mara shook her head weakly, unable to tear herself away from his incredible eyes. Beautiful eyes, she found herself thinking. Beautiful eyes of a beautiful, powerful man who wasn’t intimidated by her in the least. And mayhap that was a good thing.

“No need, my lord.” Her voice was sweet, faint, as he had once remembered thinking on the day she had nearly thrown herself from the window. “I understand perfectly, although I cannot guarantee the lesson will be immediately.”

He cocked an eyebrow, his thoughts turning from spanking her buttocks to the wonderful warmth of her in his arms. “What does this mean?”

Mara swallowed, realizing his grip on her had tightened. As much as the new sensation enticed her, it was also frightening. Frightening that a man she had sworn to hate could create such havoc in her naive, stubborn mind.

“Would you mind letting me stand?” she asked.

He obliged, aware that he liked her much better in his arms. Mara straightened her surcoat before fixing him in the eye, far calmer than she had been when they had entered the deserted corridor.

“It means that old habits die hard,” she said frankly. “I am used to speaking my mind, Sir Kirk, and….”

“Kirk.”

“Beg pardon, my lord?”

“You will call me simply Kirk,” he said without a hint of warmth. “Now continue.”

Mara looked strangely at him but did as he asked. “I… very well, if you insist. As I said, I am used to speaking my mind and it will be quite difficult for me to rein my natural actions.”

“Unbridled responses are not natural. They are the result of a complete lack of discipline. Did not your father maintain any control over you whatsoever?”

Mara looked away from him, studying the walls, the floor. “Nay,” she said. “He was too busy losing money. Or drunk. And mother was sick most of the time, too ill to deal with me.”

Kirk’s hard stance softened as he watched her emotional vulnerability come through yet again. Last night in the inn had been only a foretaste.

“So you and Micheline took care of each other,” he finished quietly. “And from what I have seen of your sister, she is hardly able to take a stand against you.”