Page 16 of The Darkland

Mara nodded, leaning against the opposite wall. “We have always taken care of one another because no one else could.” She fixed him in the eye, her lovely face soft with emotion. “That is why I cannot allow her to marry a man who would treat her with such disrespect. Can’t you understand that I must protect her?”

Kirk sighed, resting against the wall. “You do not have a choice, love. This betrothal contract has nothing to do with you.”

Mara heard the affectionate term, unsure how to react. A name that seemed to intensify the odd, quivering warmth she was already experiencing.

“I realize that, but it does not discourage my determination,” she replied, her heart leaping strangely against her ribcage. “Misha is… delicate. She cannot take care of herself as I am able. And I refuse to allow this… I mean, Lord Edmund to humiliate her further. She’s known enough degradation in her time.”

Kirk crossed his muscular arms, his expression curious. “What does this mean? How else has your sister met with humiliation?”

For the first time since he had known her, Mara seemed to falter. She refused to look at him as she spoke.

“Father… he used Misha to support his gambling habit by forcing her to dance and sing for coin.” She kicked distractedly at the stone. “That is why she did not want to sleep in an inn last night. Father used to take her into taverns to entertain the soldiers while he left me on the street, pretending to be an orphan. Somehow I always managed to make more money begging than Misha did with her talents, which only added to her shame.”

He did not reply. When Mara finally looked up from her feet, she was surprised to note his expression harsh. She cocked her head curiously, gazing into eyes as cold as steel.

“Why do you look like that?”

Kirk seemed to stare at her a long, long time. “Because your father was a cruel man. And his cruelty continues as he forces his eldest to wed in order to settle a gambling debt.”

Mara nodded, moving closer to him. When he wasn’t taunting or threatening her, he was quite approachable. “Now you see why I cannot permit her to wed a man who will only continue to humiliate her. Our parents died within weeks of each other two years ago and since that time, we’ve known our only measure of peace. Now the cycle of shame threatens all over again.”

She was standing beside the stone seat, level with his eyes. He found himself devouring every contour of her face. “I will speak to Lord Edmund. Have no doubt that he will be considerate of your sister’s feelings when I explain the situation.”

Mara frowned. “If he wasn’t considerate of her feelings the moment he met her, why should your explanation make any difference?”

“Because Edmund trusts me.”

“And based on the word of his servant, he is supposed to amend his attitude?”

This time, Kirk frowned. “I am not his servant.”

Mara sat down on the edge of the seat, yelping when her sore bum touched the cold surface. Leaping up, she rubbed her backside as she spoke. “If you are not his servant, then what are you?”

Kirk crossed his thick arms. “My father and grandfather came into service through lands in Ireland that were a wedding dowry to Lord Edmund’s grandsire. I have freely pledged my loyalty to the House of de Cleveley and I am certainly not a servant.”

She continued to gaze at him and he could literally see the thoughts tumbling through her mind. “But you had little choice in the matter to serve the House of de Cleveley if you were part of a marriage contract.”

“I do not consider my fealty a matter of choice. I wanted to serve the House of de Cleveley, as it was my family’s legacy. I fostered at Kenilworth at a very young age and came into Monroe de Cleveley’s service as soon as I was knighted.”

“Monroe de Cleveley?”

“Edmund’s father.”

Mara nodded, eyeing him thoughtfully. “So you fostered at Kenilworth with a host of arrogant English boys. Then why do you still possess an Irish brogue? Did not your trainers whip it out of you?”

He smiled faintly. “They tried.” He scratched his ear. “God only knows, I was beaten, starved, belittled and tortured. But they could not take it out of me. The more they tried, the more I refused.”

Mara’s eyes widened. “They did that?”

“They did.”

She stared at him, the strong lines of his face, the square angle of his jaw. “Then you have known the same shame as Micheline and I have.”

He shrugged. “What my trainers did to me was not considered shameful. It was considered necessary.”

Mara continued to watch him as he scratched his head again, emitting a weary sigh. Now that the chaos of their journey had ended, he seemed fatigued and Mara impulsively knelt beside him, her small hands on his tree-sized legs. Considering she couldn’t sit, it was the only possible position.

“Please, Sir Kirk,” she said softly. “Please help me take Micheline away from here. If you understand humiliation as you said you have, then you should be eager to help.”