Page 78 of The Darkland

“You leave tomorrow?” she asked softly.

“Aye. And so do you.”

“Back to Anchorsholme?”

“Aye.”

Mara didn’t say anymore after that. They’d already spoken of it and the subject was already settled. Still, she couldn’t help the tightening in her gut. She pressed her face into the top of his head.

“I am truly sorry about your father,” she whispered. “What of the rest of your family?”

“I do not know,” he replied. “The missive only mentioned my father.”

She sighed faintly. “I have spent nearly all my life at Haslingden,” she said softly. “I have never been around a battle. I would be lying if I said I was not frightened for you. Please take great care.”

He hugged her. “I will, I swear it,” he said. “I have much to live for.”

She pulled her face from his head, looking at him with a smile on her lips. “Me?”

He met her grin, gently tweaking her nose. “You.”

Her smile faded as she gazed into his eyes. “Will it be a big battle?”

He shrugged. “Possibly,” he said. “When the Irish are angry, there is no knowing how many will answer the call to aide.”

“Then mustn’t you go and muster your troops? Surely you have duties to attend to.”

Kirk shook his head. “Le Vay has asked me to stay away from Spencer as he prepares the men,” he said. “I have nothing more to do than spend the remaining hours with you, for which I am grateful.”

Mara was thrilled. She toyed with his dark hair, memorizing the texture to tuck away in her memories for days when she was feeling particularly lonely. She watched Kirk’s expression, seeing such sorrow in it.

“When was the last time you were in Ireland?” she asked quietly.

“About four years ago. A lot can change in four years.”

“What… what should I do if you do not return?”

His gaze grew intense. “Raise my son in the manner you see fit.”

A twinkle came to her eye. “The son you gave me last night?”

“The same.”

“Are you so sure I carry your son?”

“I have prayed for it since last night.”

The humor vanished from the conversation. He was deeply sincere and it frightened her. The man was sailing into the unknown, to face tragic circumstances, and she could read his uncertainty. Without another word, she threw her arms around his neck and he swallowed her up in his big embrace. There wasn’t much more either one of them could say that hadn’t already been spoken of.

Fear of the future, grief from Kirk’s father’s murder, and their longing for one another came together in a cataclysmic clash. Kirk took Mara back to bed and didn’t leave her until he was forced to the following morning before dawn.

Mara’s last vision of Kirk was as he rode from Quernmore’s gatehouse, astride his massive charger as he faded out into the breaking dawn.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“My lord?” Spencerwas startled to see Lionel in his chamber. “Have you need of me?”

It was early morning following the departure of Kirk and over half of Quernmore’s army for the green shores of Ireland. Now the bailey was a quiet and somewhat still place, drained of the men with weapons and knights on horseback.