Page 27 of The Darkland

“No one is for certain. And no one is willing to ask.”

Mara felt sick. And terrified. Slouching on the rock, she shook her head as she pondered the lad’s stunning account on the happenings at Anchorsholme.

“So that is why they call it The Darkland,” she murmured, more to herself.

Robert nodded. “The House of the Death. Young ladies never leave here alive.”

Mara’s gaze snapped to him, trapping him within her intense focus. “Well,Iam leaving here alive,” she hissed, rising swiftly from the rock. “My sister and I are leaving and never coming back, betrothal or no!”

Robert and his siblings were instantly on their feet as Mara gathered her too-long skirts. Retraced her steps up the hill, the collection of children followed.

“How are you going to leave?” Robert pulled her skirt free of prickly bramble when it snagged. “Do you have horses, a wagon?”

“We have palfreys,” Mara said firmly. “We are leaving and no one is going to stop us. I shall kill anyone who tries!”

“Even Sir Kirk?”

“Especially Sir Kirk. How dare he not tell us of the danger we are in!”

“Sir Kirk was the reason the ladies died,” Gilly’s soft voice came from behind her brother.

Mara came to an abrupt stop, causing the children to bump into each other. Bright blue eyes were fixed on the pale young girl with the untamed curls.

“Tell me all,” her voice was hoarse with dread.

Gilly swallowed hard, struggling for courage. She had been bold enough to make the statement, but explaining her words were clearly another matter. “The dead ladies all had eyes for him,” she said softly. “It was known that he did not return their feelings, but the ladies died just the same. Mayhap by their own hand. Some have come to think that Kirk Connaught is cursed.”

Mara’s eyebrows rose in shock. “Cursed?” she repeated. Taking a deep breath to soothe her shattering composure, she turned her eyes toward the dark stone bastion reaching for the heavens. “Dear God. Why did not anyone tell us this before?”

Robert was standing beside her, his blue eyes sympathetic and fearful at the same time. She was such a pretty lady, far prettier than any lady he had ever seen at Anchorsholme Castle. And she was nice, too; none of the other ladies had ever spoken to him. But Mara had.

“We shall help you leave, lady,” he said, nodding to his siblings. “Get your things together and we shall whisk you from Anchorsholme before anyone is the wiser.”

Mara should have been grateful for the lad’s assistance. But instead, she was overwhelmed with despondency over Kirk’s apparent hex and found herself unable to focus on anything else.

“Do you believe that Kirk is cursed, Robert?” she asked softly.

He shrugged weakly. “I do not know, lady. But some say he is.”

“Who?”

“Servants mostly. The soldiers defend him, saying he had nothing to do with the ladies’ deaths.”

“What of Edmund and Johanne? What do they say?”

Robert’s gaze faltered. After a moment, he shrugged again. “Who can say? Everyone is a’feared of them because of Johanne’s madness.”

“Madness?”

The boy nodded. “She rages with the change of the moons. She’s been known to beat serving wenches, or burn them with pokers. One time she bit a wench on the hand and tore off her finger.”

Mara’s eyes widened with horror. Without another word, she returned to the kitchen yard through the tunnel in the wall. With a hasty farewell to Robert and his silent siblings, she made way to her chamber as fast as her feet would carry her.

*

Micheline was tryingon her sixth surcoat by the time Mara reached her. Huffing with exertion, she raced into the room and slammed the door, bolting it from the inside. But when she turned and saw Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda hemming one of Micheline’s new dresses, she screamed at them to leave and, in perfect synchronization, they did so.

Mara bolted the door again when they were gone. Puzzled and incensed, Micheline came down from the stool she had been perched on.