The Darkland (33 page)

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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

BOOK: The Darkland
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“Indeed,” he said. “You
already seem wise and reasonable. Speaking of wise and reasonable, do you have
any suggestions on how to release your sister from her bower?”

Micheline sighed. “I
know of no such way, my lord,” she said with regret. “She will stay in there
until she rots. She is very stubborn.”

“Can you not plead with
her to open the door?”

Micheline had no real
choice in the matter. They simply couldn’t leave Mara in the room forever. Again,
she signed.

“I can try.”

Lionel and Spencer stood
back as Micheline went to the door, half-hacked up and wrought with twisted
metal.  After a moment’s hesitation, she knocked on it softly.

“Mara?” she called.
“Mara, ‘tis me, love. Please let me in.”

They could all hear the
shriek behind the closed door. Suddenly, the door was rattling as the bolt was
thrown on the opposite side.  But the door was so warped that it wasn’t hanging
correctly any longer so the best Mara could do was open it three or four
inches. When she saw Micheline in the corridor, she shrieked again.

“Misha!” she cried. “You
have come!”

Micheline smiled at her
pale-faced sister. “Open the door, love.”

Mara jerked at the door
until her hair flopped in her face. “I cannot,” she said, looking at the warped
panel. “Those fools have ruined this door. I do not believe I can open it.”

Having heard the
conversation from his post several feet away, Spencer moved towards the door.

“Let me try,” he said.

As Micheline stood back,
Spencer threw his shoulder into the panel and shoved, but it wasn’t enough, so
Lionel came forward and also threw his shoulder into it.  When Mara saw Lionel,
she screamed and ran from their field of vision.

“Stay away!” she cried.

“Mara?” Micheline called
to her. “Please do not be frightened. Nothing is going to happen to you, I
promise.”

Mara, having spent more
than a day in the chamber with hardly any sleep or food, was at her wit’s end. 

“You… you liar!” she
screamed at her sister. “You wanted me to open the door so he would come in!”

Micheline quickly came
to understand what her sister meant and she hastened to reassure her. “Nay, love,
I promise that is not true,” she said. “I simply wanted to see you.”

Spencer and Lionel
managed to get the door partially open and Mara shrieked again when she saw
that it was wide enough for a man to slip through.  In a panic, she threw
herself into the slender lancet window.

“If you come any closer,
I shall jump!”

Spencer was already in
the room, coming to a halt when he saw Mara in the window. Lionel was a little
slower to enter, struggling his big belly through the narrow opening, but he
too came to a halt when he saw Mara in the window that was three stories above
the hard-packed bailey.  He threw out his hands.

“Nay, Mara,” he pleaded.
“All will be will, I swear it. You must get out of the window.”

Mara inched out of the
narrow ledge, gripping the frame of the window for leverage. “I will not get
out of the window,” she cried. “I will not marry you, do you hear me? If you
come any closer, I shall throw myself to the bailey below.”

Micheline was in the
room now, her eyes wide with fear. She well remembered a situation like this a few
weeks ago when Mara had threatened to jump and would have fallen to her death
had Kirk not saved her silly neck. She knew Mara wasn’t serious but she was
also reckless. She could easily slip and….


Please,
Mara,”
she begged softly. “I have not seen you in over a week and there is much to
tell. So much has happened. Edmund and Johanne are dead.”

Mara had much the same
reaction that Lionel had; her eyes widened and her jaw went slack. “Dead?” she
repeated. “What happened?”

“Now is not the time to
discuss this,” Lionel interrupted. He was seriously concerned. “Lady Mara,
please climb out of the window.”

Mara’s attention was
back on Lionel, her expression reverting to the panicked frown.  “Only if you
promise I do not have to marry you.”

Lionel wasn’t surprised
she was striking up a bargain.  He knew she was an intelligent creature; she
was trying to turn the situation to her advantage. But he knew he could never
let her gain the upper hand.

“Would it be so
terrible, lass?” he asked quietly.  “Would it be so terrible that you would
rather kill yourself that become a wealthy baroness?”

Mara’s bright eyes
flickered. “It would not be terrible under different circumstances,” she said,
calming somewhat. “But I would rather be the wife of a poor knight whom I love than
the wife of a wealthy baron I do not love.”

Lionel lifted a bushy
eyebrow. “I understand,” he said, “but what you have failed to consider is that
Kirk might not ever return from Ireland. He went over to fight a battle, my
lady. It was not a garden party. Men will aim to kill him and it is quite
possible one will succeed.  He could be dead right now for all we know and then
what will you do? Be a burden on your sister’s good graces for the rest of your
life?”

Mara turned red. “He
will
return,” she hissed. “He will return and he will kill you for what you have
done.”

“Perhaps,” Lionel said
softly. “That remains to be seen. Now, come down off the window sill before you
fall.”

“I will not!”

“Mara, come out of the
window, lass.”

The words spoken were
not Lionel’s. Nor were they Micheline’s or Spencer’s. The voice had come from
the chamber doorway and, startled, everyone in the room swung around to see
Kirk standing inside of the twisted panel. He’d managed to slip in and no one
heard or saw anything. Exhausted, clad in dirty and bloodied armor, he was
armed to the teeth as if ready to go to battle at any second.

They could not help but
noticed that he did not look pleased.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

 

 

At the sight of Kirk,
Micheline gasped with astonishment. Lionel might have also made a noise. But
Kirk had eyes only for Mara.

“Come out of the window,
love,” he told her again, softly.  

For a moment, nobody
moved.  They were stunned. But then Mara shrieked, propelling herself out of
the window and towards Kirk. But the moment she ran past Lionel, within arm’s
length, the old man reached out and grabbed for her.  Mara turned into a
wildcat, punching and scratching the man until he released his hold.  The next
arms that grabbed her were Kirk’s.

Mara threw herself
against him, sobbing hysterically. Kirk held her tightly, trying not to jab her
with sharp and deadly things strapped to his body. He stroked her dark head and
kissed her salty cheeks, so very grateful to have her in his arms.  He wasn’t
sure she would ever end up there again.

The truth was that his
trip home had been a nightmare of worry and helplessness. Having no idea what
had transpired at Quernmore during the time Corwin had withheld this explosive
information, it was easy to imagine the worst. Fortunately, the winds had been
with him and the trip across the Irish Sea had taken less than the usual day
and a night. It had been relatively swift. 

The moment the ship
docked, Kirk tore off to Quernmore, twelve miles from the port, and made it
there in the dark of night.  He hadn’t stopped moving, or worrying, in days. 
Now that he had Mara in his arms, the relief was indescribable.  But there were
still many unanswered questions and he struggled to keep a level head.

“All is well, love,” he
murmured into her dark hair. “I have returned. All is well.”

“Kirk,” Spencer’s eyes
were wide as he took a step in Kirk’s direction. “What are you doing here? Has
the entire army returned?”

Kirk kissed Mara one
last time before turning his stone-gray gaze in Spencer’s direction. “It has
not,” he said, his voice low and deadly. “I have returned prematurely because I
was told that Edmund offered Mara to le Vay in marriage. Was this information
incorrect?”

Spencer shook his head
reluctantly but it was Lionel who spoke. “It was correct,” he said steadily.
“Edmund de Cleveley, as Lady Mara’s legal guardian, offered her to me in
marriage and I have accepted.”

Kirk’s attention shifted
to le Vay. “Have you already married her?”

Le Vay shook his head.
“Not yet.”

Kirk relaxed somewhat. 
Now the most critical issue was answered so he allowed himself a bit of respite
from his worry. However, he found that his anger was gaining speed and he
struggled to keep it at bay.

     “My lord, you are aware that she belongs to
me,” he said, perplexed. “Why would you accept Edmund’s offer?”

Le Vay hesitated.
“Because…,” he said, paused, and started again. “Because it is my last chance
to have an heir, Kirk. With Michael gone, I am in need of a son. I
want
a
son. You cannot blame me or deny my wants. It is my right.”

Kirk’s brow flickered
angrily. “
Your
wants?” he repeated. “What about mine? Mara’s? Or are you
the only person of import and our wants do not matter?”

“I am a wealthy man,”
Lionel said, summoning courage.  Kirk was becoming intimidating. “I was legally
offered the lady’s hand and I legally accepted. I have done nothing wrong. To
want a son to pass my titles and wealth to is not a crime.”

“It is not a crime but it
is certainly a sin to knowingly marry a woman who loves another,” Kirk fired
back softly. “You know she belongs to me, my lord. I am shocked and
disappointed that you seriously considered this marriage proposal.”

Le Vay held Kirk’s gaze
a moment longer before lowering his head.  He couldn’t look at the man
anymore.  He found he was frustrated more than anything.

“So you have returned
from Ireland to stop me,” he muttered.  “Who told you?”

“It does not matter. I
have returned to claim what is rightfully mine.”

Le Vay’s gaze flicked up
to him. “Rightfully, she is
mine
.”

Kirk could see that the
man was deadly serious and more than being perplexed by his behavior, he was
quickly approaching desperation.  He knew that he had no real legal ground to
stand on; the contract le Vay had accepted trumped a love story.  His thoughts
moved to the real problem in all of this; Edmund.  His gaze moved to Micheline.

“Where is your husband,
my lady?” he asked, grinding his teeth. “I have a need to speak with him.”

Micheline was pale and
frightened but she met Kirk’s gaze evenly. “He is dead,” she murmured. “Both
Edmund and Johanne are dead.”

Kirk didn’t react except
with a flicker of confusion over his brow. Then his features seemed to slacken.
“Dead?” he repeated. “How?”

Micheline sighed
heavily, feeling exhausted and sick to the bone.  The past few days had been
too much to bear.

“Johanne went mad,” she
said softly. “She did not know that you and Mara were in love. Edmund purposely
kept the information from her, I can only assume, out of fear for you.  When
she found out that he had not told her the truth, she went mad and killed him. 
When she tried to kill me, Sir Spencer intervened and killed her in
self-defense.”

Kirk listened intently.
He was seriously shocked at the news but, oddly, he found he wasn’t
particularly surprised.  Nothing about events at the Darkland surprised him any
longer; he’d grown numb to that place and its poison. He looked at Spencer.

“What were you doing at
Anchorsholme?” he asked.

Spencer met his gaze
evenly. “I was there to deliver Lord le Vay’s acceptance of the marriage offer
for Mara.”

Kirk fell quiet,
digesting the information.  His mind was working swiftly, mulling over the
facts, the results, and the future. He realized that he felt a great deal of
relief at the news of Edmund and Johanne’s deaths, more than he ever imagined
possible.  He had no great love for Edmund and certainly no great love for
Johanne. No, he wasn’t disappointed in the least. He was glad. But one thought
became abundantly clear as he stood there and stewed; he looked straight at
Micheline.

“You are Lady de
Cleveley and I am sworn to you,” he said quietly. “You command an army of one
thousand men and a great Irish empire. Long live Lady de Cleveley.”

Micheline, slumped against
a chair, stared at him. But she could see the warmth in his dark eyes and she
smiled wearily.

“Thank you,” she
murmured.

Kirk’s warmth faded.
“That also means that you are responsible for the contracts your husband
brokered,” he said. “Should you wish to dispute the contract between Lord le
Vay and Mara, it is within your right to do so but know he will expect
compensation of some kind.”

Before Micheline could
reply, le Vay interrupted. “I will not give her up,” he said flatly. “I am
within my legal right to maintain the integrity of the marriage contract.”

Micheline showed
surprising courage; she wasn’t courageous by nature but the past few weeks had
shown remarkable growth.  She was Lady de Cleveley and the empire of
Anchorsholme was now hers. She could either fold or she could meet the
challenge; she chose to meet it.

“My lord,” she said
steadily. “It would seem that we have two choices in this matter; obviously,
you know what my sister and Sir Kirk are in love and plan to be wed.  Should
you choose to go through with the wedding to my sister, Kirk will not fade
away. As much as it is your legal right to enforce the marriage contract, it is
Sir Kirk’s moral right to fight for the woman you are taking from him.  He will
challenge you and you will lose. In fact, you will die.  Therefore, it would
make more sense to dissolve this contract and find a bride elsewhere.”

Le Vay looked at Lady de
Cleveley with some contempt as well as resignation.  Then, his attention turned
to Mara.  She was still in Kirk’s protective embrace and he knew there was no
way he would be able to wrest her from the man. But he also knew he didn’t have
to; he had a champion. 

“I choose to fight for
what is legally mine,” he said quietly. “I feel strongly that I must. Spencer,
it would seem you have a task ahead of you.”

Spencer knew that. In
fact, he’d known all along that it would come to this. He was to face off
against Kirk again and not at all looking forward to it. 
What an ironic
twist of fate
, he thought.  Once, he had faced Kirk because he himself
wanted Mara. Now it was because le Vay wanted her.  He would fight Kirk because
he was obligated to, not because he wanted to. If he was in Kirk’s shoes, he
would want his woman back, too.


I am not going to do
anything with Lady Mara in his grip,” Spencer said. “He will have to release
the lady before I make a move.”

Kirk didn’t want to go
through the effort of another dark and bloody fight. He knew Spencer was
cunning and sly; he also knew he was deadly.  He couldn’t take the chance that
the man would win. Before he could reply, a female voice interrupted.

“Father!” Lily gasped,
squeezing around the twisted door to enter the room. “What have you…
Kirk!

Lily nearly stumbled in
her surprise as her gaze fell on Kirk. The door was destroyed, Kirk had Mara in
his arms, and there were women in the room she didn’t recognize.  Her mouth
fell open.

“What on earth is going
on here?” she demanded, pointing to the door. “Father, did you do this? What
has happened?”

Lionel could see her
agitation and lifted an impatient hand to silence her. “Kirk has only just
arrived,” he said. “Where have you been?”

Lily didn’t look
pleased. She glanced at Kirk and Spencer as she answered. “I did not want to
watch you extract Mara from this chamber as one would extract a rotten tooth
from a gaping mouth,” she said, unhappy. “You would not listen to me so I left.
I have been in the chapel most of the day, praying for a calm solution to all
of this.  I see that my prayers have brought Kirk returned from Ireland although
I am not entirely sure that was the calm resolution I was praying for. I think
it may be the more violent option.”

Mara let go of Kirk and
went to Lily.  The woman put her arms around Mara and the two of them hugged
tightly.

“Lily, your father
refuses to release me to Kirk,” Mara said. “Kirk will fight for me and your
father has ordered Spencer to champion him. Please tell your father not to do
this. Please tell him to let me go.”

Lily was inflamed. She
looked accusingly at her father. “Kirk and Spencer are going to fight for your
right to keep Mara?” she was outraged. “Father, I have never known you to be
foolish or evil, but what you are doing is wicked. Do you hear me? You are
being wicked!”

Lionel would not be
reprimanded by his daughter. “Get out of here,” he told her. “Go to your
chamber. This does not concern you.”

Lily wouldn’t budge. She
held up an angry finger, wagging it at him. “I am ashamed of you,” she scolded.
“See what your greed and selfishness has done? Kirk will never trust you again
and you have even made Spencer miserable. How can you do this to people who
respected you?”

Lionel was furious. He
was also shrewd. He made his way over to his daughter, who still stood there
with Mara. He scowled at his only child.

“It is not your place to
rebuke me,” he told her. “Things in life do not always work out as we have
planned. Life is not a glorious white field of flowers, pure and for the
taking. We do not exist from one happy moment to the next.  In this world, we
must fight for survival and for what we want and if that meets with your
disapproval, so be it. I do not answer to you.”

With that, he snaked an
arm out and grabbed Mara, pulling her against him and throwing his forearm
across her neck in a threatening gesture.  As Mara screamed, Kirk went for his
sword but Spencer was also armed.  The broadswords came out and the battle for
Mara, in a flash, had begun.

“Defeat him any way you
have to, Spencer!” Le Vay yelled as he dragged Mara towards the twisted
remnants of the chamber door. “Kill him if you must!”

Micheline, Wanda, and
Valdine skittered away from the battling knights in a panic, pressing
themselves into the far reaches of the room, as Lily ran for her father.  She
grabbed Mara’s arm and began to pull in the opposite direction.

“Father,
no!
” she
cried as she yanked on her friend to prevent her father from pulling her
through the door. “Where are you going?”

Lionel had Mara half way
through the door, although Lily was tugging fiercely on her. “There is a priest
in the great hall,” he bellowed. “I am doing what is my right, do you hear? I
will marry Mara and we will be done with this foolish nonsense once and for all!”

Lily dug her heels in.
“You will not marry her!” she cried. “Let her
go
!”

Mara, in a bad position,
was being torqued quite seriously, but she managed to bite Lionel on the arm. 
He yelped and let her go, but was able to wind a hand into her dark, luscious
hair.  He pulled hard as she screamed.

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