The Darkland (25 page)

Lily laughed softly at
Mara’s embarrassment.  As the maids wandered away, she moved in close.

“I also know that you
have been sleeping in his chamber,” she whispered, watching Mara’s uncertain
expression. “My ladies have told me such things. They are terrible gossips.”

Mara cheeks flushed a
dull red. “I notice you did not bring them with you.”

Lily shook her head, a
dismissive gesture. “They are jealous of you,” she said. “I have told them to
stay away from you and if I hear them whispering any more gossip, I will slap
them all silly. They are amusing companions but at times they can be very
petty.”

Mara was pleased by the
woman’s defense of her. “Thank you, my lady,” she said sincerely. “But… but
they have not told anyone else?”

“Never,” Lily insisted.
“Have no fear; my father does not know. He also does not know that my betrothed
and I have also shared the same bed.  Wicked, are we not? Well, I do not care a
lick. I like being wicked.”

It was a great secret
and Mara’s smile hesitantly returned. “I did not look at it that way,” she
murmured. “Kirk and I have such feelings for one another… we are in love, my
lady. When there is love, I am not sure how sharing the bed of the man you love
is wicked.”

Lily giggled. “It
is
wicked before the marriage bed,” she said. “Perhaps it even makes me a whore. I
do not care, I tell you!”

She said it with such
glee that Mara couldn’t help but giggle. “Tell me of your betrothed,” she said,
feeling a kindred spirit with Lily now that they had shared their naughty secrets.
She’d never known female companionship like this in her life. “Is he strong and
handsome?”

Lily half-shrugged,
half-nodded as she began to fuss with the collar of Mara’s dress. “He is quite
handsome and strong,” she replied. “His name is Sir Thomas de Ryce and his
brother is very close to King Henry.  Thomas is Welsh and his family is very
powerful. It will be a wonderful marriage, I am sure.”

She said it as if she
was trying to convince herself. Mara watched the woman’s face as she fingered
the surcoat. “Do you love him?”

Lily met her gaze. “I am
quite fond of him,” she said softly. “He is kind and generous. He will make a
good husband.”

Mara nodded faintly,
silently accepting the explanation although she didn’t believe the woman. She
spoke without much enthusiasm.

“Then perhaps we can
convince Thomas and Kirk to take us to Rome,” she said. “Kirk has spoken of
taking me to Ireland but I would much rather go to Italy.”

The twinkle returned to
Lily’s eyes but before she could speak, the chamber door opened and Kirk stood
in the doorway. As the women turned to him, he surveyed the chaotic state of
the room with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“What goes on here?” he
asked.

Lily, ever-chatty and
right with wording, moved in his direction. “Lady Mara is doing me a great
favor,” she insisted. “When my mother passed away, she left a great many fine
garments that I have had to store. Mara has agreed to take them off my hands.
Does she not look marvelous?”

Lily pointed proudly to
Mara, who was still standing in the middle of the chamber where she had left
her, arms up as the maids finished with the sleeves of the too-long gown.  Kirk
lifted an appraising eyebrow as he sauntered in her direction, inspecting her
closely.

“She does indeed,” he
said with appreciation. “She looks beautiful.”

Mara, who had been
watching Kirk with some trepidation when he first entered the room, grinned
when he gave his approval. With a still-upraised arm, she pointed to the bed.

“Look at all of the
garments,” she said eagerly. “Lady Lily has had them all this time with no one
to give them to.  Are they not lovely?”

Kirk glanced over at the
pile of clothing on the bed. “Indeed,” he said, but his gaze returned to her in
the exquisite blue silk.  His eyes were warm on her. “Do you like them, love?”

Mara nodded excitedly.
“I love them all,” she said. “Lady Lily was very kind to think of me.”

“Indeed she was,” Kirk
said, turning to look at Lily. “My lady, you are most generous. We thank you.”

Lily smiled broadly as
she went to Kirk and looped a hand through his elbow. “Marry her soon, Kirk. I
like her very much. In fact, you are going to escort her to Rome when my
husband and I go.  Mara and I will travel very well together and I forbid you
to deny her the journey, do you hear?”

Kirk fought off a grin.
“You sound much like Mara when you say it that way.”

“What way?”

“Demanding.”

Lily laughed. “She is
not
demanding,” she said as she let go of Kirk’s elbow. She moved back over to the
bed and began collecting the surcoats. “My maids will finish with these dresses,
my lady, and will return them in time for supper. I should love to see you
looking finely dressed tonight.”

Mara nodded. “As would
I,” she replied. “Do you want to take this blue dress with you?”

Lily handed over the
garments in her arms to the nearest maid. “I think not,” she said, her gaze
warm. “It fits you well enough. Kirk can hardly keep his eyes off of you. I do
believe you should keep it on. I shall return to finish it later.”

Mara smiled at the woman
as she finished collecting the shifts and surcoats, chasing her maids out and
closing the door softly behind her.  When they were finally alone, Mara turned
to Kirk.

“Do you really like the
dress?” she asked.

Kirk’s gaze was steady,
but inside, the weight of the news he bore was dragging him down.  He just
needed a few moments with Mara to settle himself, to breathe, and perhaps even
to grieve privately.  His mind was whirling and his heart was heavy.  His smile
faded.

“You are the most
beautiful creature I have ever seen,” he said with soft sincerity. “No woman
can compete with your glory.”

Mara smiled modestly,
her cheeks flushing. She bobbed a stiff curtsy. “My thanks, my lord.”

He grinned, his gaze
moving over her face, the lovely dress. “Am I to understand that you and Lily
have become friends?”

She nodded, somewhat
embarrassed. “She has been very kind.”

“She is a kind lady.”

“I am sorry I was so
jealous of her before I came to know her. It was silly of me.”

Kirk’s attention
lingered on her a moment longer before moving over to the bed.  As he sat,
heavily, he held out his hand to her.

“Come here,” he
murmured.

Mara obeyed. When she
came within arm’s length, he reached out and pulled her onto his lap. As she
wrapped her arms around his neck, he felt both comforted and weakened. The
woman had the ability to stir emotion within him, making him feel vulnerable
and strong at the same time. He buried his face against her shoulder and closed
his eyes.

“You left early this
morning,” Mara said softly, her cheek against the top of his head. “Where did
you go?”

He was silent for a
moment. “A missive came from Anchorsholme.”

Mara’s pleasant mood
fled. She stiffened. “Micheline?” she asked in a panic. “Has something happened
to my sister?”

Kirk calmed her. “Nay,”
he assured her. “It contained nothing about Micheline. It was for me.”

Mara still wasn’t over
her fright. Her hand was on her chest as if to soothe her racing heart. “Thank
the Lord,” she said. “What did the missive say?”

He gazed into her blue
eyes. “There has been a rebellion on de Cleveley’s Irish lands,” he said
quietly.  “Wicklow Castle fell. My father was killed.”

Mara’s eyes widened.
“Oh… Kirk,” she breathed. “I am so terribly sorry.”

He went back to resting
his head on her shoulder. “As am I,” he muttered. “I am sorry that he will
never meet you. He would have liked you.”

“As I am sure I would
have liked him,” she said, so very sad at Kirk’s obvious distress. “Did the
missive say how it happened?”

Kirk lifted his big
shoulders. “It does not matter how it happened, only that it has. My father is
dead and nothing can bring him back.”

Mara wasn’t sure what to
say to that. He didn’t seem to want to discuss it. She held Kirk tightly, her
arms around his neck.

“What will you do now?”
she asked softly.

His embrace tightened as
he turned his face against her skin, smelling her. “I am instructed to take le
Vay’s troops to the docks at Fleetwood where we will meet de Cleveley troops,
board de Cleveley vessels, and sail for Ireland on the morning tide.”

Mara processed the
information.  She could feel the angst rise, not wanting him to leave her.  She
was terrified for him going to war, terrified for herself because she was
returning to Anchorsholme. But contrary to her nature, she didn’t voice her
concerns.  For the first time in her life, she kept her mouth shut because she
knew Kirk had enough on his mind. His father’s murder was surely killing him.

“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?” Spencer was
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.

Le Vay shook his head to
Spencer’s question, holding out a hand as the knight tried to climb out of
bed.  Recovering from his bout with Kirk, he was still rather weak and the
physic had prescribed bed rest.  Still, the man was fully prepared to rise up
and do his lord’s bidding no matter how poorly he was feeling.  Mustering the
troops to leave with Connaught had just about finished him.

“It has been years since
I have entered the knight’s quarters,” Lionel said, eyeing the small,
windowless chamber with its dark stone walls and dirt floor.  It was a dark
chamber except for the fat tallow candle near the bed. “I had forgotten how dismal
they are.”

Spencer looked around
the room as well. “I have not noticed,” he replied. “Other than sleep, I do not
spend any time in this room.”

Lionel wriggled his
eyebrows as he looked around for a chair. “I shall have you moved into the
keep. That is where you belong.”

Spencer didn’t reply. 
He was more interested in why le Vay had come.  The man was correct; he hadn’t
been to the knight’s quarters in years, so his appearance had Spencer curious
and, if he thought about it, perhaps on edge. It was an odd happening.  Something
was afoot.

But le Vay wasn’t
looking at him. He was more interested in finding a chair.  All he could locate
was a squat stool, so he pulled it up next to Spencer’s bed and sat heavily.  He
lifted the ends of his fine robes and tried to keep them out of the dirt.  When
he finally focused his attention on Spencer, the knight was watching him
intently.

“How can I be of
service, my lord?” Spencer asked quietly.

Le Vay shrugged. Then he
sighed and scratched his head.  “Are you well enough, Spencer?”

“I will heal.  In fact,
I suspect I will be back to my regular duties by this evening.”

“That is good.”

“Do you have a task for
me, my lord?”

Le Vay sighed heavily
again.  He seemed contemplative or, at the very least, ill at ease.  He paused
for several seconds before replying.

“With all of the
conflict between you and Kirk, I have not yet had the opportunity to tell you
why the man came to Quernmore,” he said. “Kirk and I had a lengthy conference
yesterday afternoon and it would seem that he came on behalf of Edmund to
solicit support for a revolt on his lands in Ireland, as you well know. You saw
the result last night and this morning when the army was mustered.”

Spencer nodded. “I know,
my lord.”

Lionel eyed the young
knight. “I told you to remain behind but I did not tell you why. I felt that your
wound should be allowed to heal. You are still quite weak.”

“My wound is not that
bad.”

Lionel cocked an eyebrow
at him. “Then I shall be plain. I did not send you to Ireland with Kirk given
what happened between the two of you. That would be a volatile situation and a
bad decision on my part.  That is why I sent Albert in your stead.”

Spencer knew as much but
he still wasn’t pleased with the directive.  He had been excessively furious
when the brash young knight had ridden off with Connaught.

“Albert d’Uberville is a
young knight, my lord,” he argued feebly. “He does not have excessive battle
experience.”

“He will learn. Kirk
will teach him. The call him the Master, after all.”

“Albert can be
reckless.”

“He will not be for long
with Kirk as his commander. The first time he makes a foolish decision, Kirk’s
wrath shall be fierce.”

Spencer could see there
was no changing le Vay’s mind.  With nothing more to say, he simply nodded his
head and averted his gaze.  His disappointment was obvious. “As you say, my
lord.”

Lionel watched Spencer’s
face for any sign of rebellion but saw nothing other than the displeasure.  He
continued. “There is something else,” he said softly.

Spencer turned to him,
struggling to force the disappointment aside. “And that would be, my lord?”

Lionel averted his gaze
and looked at his hands. It was apparent that he was searching for the correct
words to describe whatever ‘something else’ was.  It took him several long
seconds before he spoke again.

“You have served me for
six years,” he said.

“Aye, my lord.”

“You are aware that I
had a son who was killed in battle shortly before you came into my service.”

“I am, my lord.”

“In fact, you have been
something of a son to me in the absence of my own.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Lionel shook his head.
“But the fact remains that you are
not
my son,” he said. “When I die, Quernmore
will pass to Lily and her husband. That is not how I wish to bequeath my
inheritance.”

Spencer wasn’t following
the man in the least.  He finally lifted his shoulders. “Very well, my lord.” He
wasn’t sure what else to say. “Lily’s betrothed is a fine man.”

“But he is not my son,
my flesh and blood.”

“No, he is not.”

Lionel was still looking
at his hands.  The pause was lengthy before he spoke again. “It would seem that
I have an opportunity that I never thought I would have again.”

“And what is that, my
lord?”

Lionel lifted his head,
then, and looked at him. “The opportunity to have another son.”

Spencer still had no
idea what he was talking about.  He finally gave up pretending that he embraced
the conversation.  “I do not understand, my lord.”

Lionel knew that. He
hadn’t been very clear. But he was confused, hopeful, and bewildered all at the
same time. He stood up and began to pace.

“When Kirk arrived from
Anchorsholme, he carried two missives with him,” he said. “The first missive
was the request for support in Ireland.  The second was a marriage proposal.”

Spencer was genuinely
surprised. “A marriage proposal?” he repeated. “For whom?”

“Me.”

Spencer’s shock only
grew. “From Anchorsholme?” he said.  Then, a disturbing flicker came to his
eye. “Not Johanne…?”

Lionel shook his head
quickly. “Nay,” he said. “Not that mad woman, thankfully.  It would seem that
Edmund is proposing a marriage between me and the Lady Mara le Bec, sister of
Edmund’s new wife.  He has sent Lady Mara along with Kirk so that I may have a
look at her.”

Spencer stared at him.  “Mara?”
he repeated, astonished. “
Kirk’s
Mara?”

“The same.”

Spencer’s jaw dropped.
“The woman we were
fighting
over?” his astonishment grew, so much so that
he had to spell out the obvious just to make sure he understood correctly.
“Lord de Cleveley has proposed a marriage between you and Lady Mara?”

Lionel nodded, carefully
gauging Spencer’s reaction. He couldn’t tell if the man was pleased or outraged
but he suspected it was the later.  He felt defensive.

“I am a wealthy
widower,” he said. “Lady Mara is young, beautiful, and healthy. It is perfectly
acceptable to marry her so that she may bear me a son.”

Spencer couldn’t believe
what he was hearing. “And if she doesn’t bear you a son?”

“Then she shall be a
wealthy and respected wife nonetheless.”

“Is that all she is to
you, my lord? Someone to breed with?”

Lionel could hear the
judgment in Spencer’s tone.  He went from a calm demeanor to a frustrated one
in a flash.

“That is the purpose of
marriage,” he pointed out. “It is not for young knights to live out romantic
and lusty dreams. It is to breed empires, of which I intend to do. If you
cannot accept that, then I shall release you from your oath and you may seek
your comfort and fortune elsewhere.”

Spencer cooled. He could
see that Lionel would not be berated or judged for his decision. It was a reasonable
one, that was true, but Spencer was not thinking with reason. He was thinking
with his loins and with his heart. He was also thinking about Kirk; he couldn’t
help it. He pondered his liege’s words, forcing himself to settle.

“That will not be
necessary, my lord,” he replied, returning to his obedient demeanor. “But I
would assume that Kirk knew nothing of this proposal.”

Lionel was eyeing
Spencer for any further hint of rebellion. “I would assume not,” he replied.
“If he did, I am sure he would have destroyed the missive.”

“What do you think he
will say when he finds out?”

“That is not my
concern.  My concern is with my family and my holdings.” Lionel was coming to
realize how harsh he sounded simply by Spencer’s expression. He was not a harsh
man by nature; in fact, he didn’t like to take a stand of any kind. He was
fairly passive. After a moment, he took a deep breath and cooled. “Kirk is an
excellent knight, Spencer. I admire him a great deal. But he has his choice of
women. I do not. This… this is my last chance, lad.  When I die, the House of
le Vay dies with me and this I cannot abide. I have to do what I can to remedy
the situation before it is too late.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed,
caught up in le Vay’s passionate speech. “What do you mean before it is too
late?” he asked. “You speak like a desperate man.  If you want to marry so
badly to have another son, I am sure there are many women who would be more
eligible than a minor baron’s second daughter.”

Le Vay shook his head
firmly, rising from the stool.  He gathered his fine robes up around him to
keep them off the floor. There was agitation in his movements.

“But it would take time
to find such a woman,” he said. “Lady Mara is here, now. I could marry her
today without delay.”

Spencer was growing
increasingly baffled. “My lord, I have never heard you express importance in
another marriage,” he said. “I do not understand your sudden interest.”

“It is not sudden. It is
something I have been thinking of for some time.”

“But I do not understand
why…?”

Lionel cut him off.
“Because I
must
,” he fired back with more passion that Spencer had seen
from the man in a long time. “Time is running out.”

“What time?”

“
My
time,” Lionel
insisted, his words overlapping Spencer’s question. When he saw the look on
Spencer’s face, he realized how abrupt he had come across. He backed down, but
not entirely.  He put a hand to his chest, gesturing to himself in an
impassioned plea. “My time, Spencer. The physic says I do not have much longer
to live. When I die, the House of le Vay dies with me. Now I see a chance to
save it and I cannot let it slip away.”

Spencer sat in stunned
silence for a moment. “You are dying?”

Lionel nodded. Suddenly,
he wasn’t so passionate. He was exhausted. He returned to his stool and sat
heavily.  After a moment, he sighed.

“You know that I have
not been feeling my best as of late,” he said quietly.

Spencer was very
concerned. “For at least a year,” he said. “The physic said it was infirmaries
of old age.”

“That is because I told
him to tell everyone I was simply feeling my years and nothing more,” he said.
“It would seem that I have a mass growing in my belly. It has affected
everything about me from my eating to the ability to relieve myself. I do not
wish to get into graphic detail but suffice it to say that the mass has grown
so much that it is affecting my ability to walk. Soon, I will be crippled and
soon thereafter, it will kill me. Whatever it is grows swiftly. The physic thinks
it is a cancer.”

Spencer was horrified.
But he also understood now why le Vay was so anxious to marry and produce a son
before he was unable to move at all. It made perfect sense.  After a moment, he
simply shook his head.

“My lord,” he said
softly, “I do not know what to say to all of this. I take it that Lady Lily
does not know?”

Lionel scratched his
head. “She does not,” he replied, subdued. “I do not want her to know. She will
be a mess, mourning me before I have even passed on. I do not wish her final
memories of me to be those of sadness.”

“She will find out soon
enough if this cancer overtakes you.”

“Then we shall confront
the subject at that time. But until then, not a word to anyone.”

“I swear it, my lord,”
Spencer assured him.  He eyed the man as he sat on the stool, brushing the dust
from his robes. “But I still do not believe marriage to Lady Mara is wise.”

Lionel looked up from
his robes. “Why not?”

“Because Kirk loves the
woman,” he said softly. “She loves him. Would you ruin her life simply to
satisfy your own wants?”