Page 46 of The Darkland

“I do not know,” Niles said, trying to avoid her when she sneezed again. “He only asks that you prepare yourself for the trip.”

“And he gave no reason at all?”

“He did not. But mayhap, given yesterday’s events, a few days away from Anchorsholme might do you well.”

Mara sneezed, her raven-colored hair shaking violently. “This is madness,” she said irritably. “There is no reason why I need travel to this Castle. What if I do not wish to go?”

Niles met her gaze steadily. “It is not a choice, my lady. Lord Edmund asked that you travel to Quernmore this day.”

Mara stared at him, frowning, before slamming the door in his face. So Edmund wanted her to ride to Quernmore Castle, did he? Most likely to be rid of her, as Niles suggested. Or, mayhap, he was hoping the party would be set upon by bandits and she would fall victim to their murderous rage.

Whatever the case, she had little choice in the matter. And since Micheline was nowhere to be found, having spent the night with her new husband, Mara quite frankly did not care where she went or what she did. Micheline was keeping secrets, Kirk hated her, and she was doomed to a life of misery of her own making. It had started when she agreed to come to Anchorsholme Castle in the first place.

So she packed a small satchel. Sneezing and coughing, she donned the warmest dress she owned and pulled her hair away from her face, securing it in a loose braid at the nape of her neck. Her mother’s worn brown cloak served its purpose as she slung it over her shoulders, collecting her bag. The moment she opened the door, however, Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda were there to greet her.

They bowed in perfect unison. “Good morn…”

“…my lady. Sir Niles informed us that…”

“…you were not feeling well. May we…”

“…assist?”

Mara hadn’t the strength to reject them. Or the will. Depressed and ill, she simply shook her head. “I do not know what you can do for me. ’Tis a simple bout with the chill that only time will cure.”

Lady Valdine suddenly produced a pewter flask. Mara eyed the steaming contents. “What is that?”

The ladies smiled at the same time. “Herbs. And…”

“…secret ingredients. It will…”

“…heal you if it does not make…”

“…a drunkard out of you first.”

Mara couldn’t help but grin. “How much do I take?”

Lady Valdine put the flask in her hand. “A few sips now. And a…”

“…few sips after the morning meal. A few…”

“…sips here and there throughout the day. But not…”

“…all at once.”

Mara smelled the contents and, with a shrug, took a long, deep swallow. Smacking her lips, she shrugged again. “I taste whisky.”

“Irish…”

“…whisky. And how would a…”

“…lady know the taste of whisky?”

Mara grinned again and took another swallow before the ladies could stop her. “My father was a drunkard, ladies. I have been exposed to whisky since I was old enough to know what it was.”

Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda were fixed with identical grins, suggesting to Mara that the ladies were not so prim and proper as they appeared. She raised the flask.

“Would you like some?”