Page 39 of The Darkland

Kirk stared down at the woman, his heart aching for her plight. Never had he imagined Edmund or Johanne capable of such debauchery and he grappled furiously with his outrage, so much so that beads of sweat peppered his brow. After a moment, he shook his head in a helpless gesture.

“But I promised Mara…” he sighed heavily, turning away from Micheline. “Dear God, I promised your sister that I would protect you. I alone would prevent further humiliation to your fragile character. And see how I have failed.”

“You have not failed,” Micheline was calmer now, watching the broad back pace away from her. “You have done all you can, Sir Kirk, and I am grateful. To have failed would have been to confront Edmund when it is not your place to do so. And I could not allow you to jeopardize yourself, not when Mara loves you so.”

He froze in mid-pace, his chest heaving with emotion. Slowly, with great wonder, he focused on the pale, trembling lady.

“She told you this?”

Micheline smiled weakly. “She spent the night crying over you, though she would not tell me the exact circumstance. I know my sister well, Sir Kirk, well enough to know that she loves you and would be lost without you.”

Kirk’s face was pale, the stone-gray eyes wide. “I… I do not know what to say.”

Micheline wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks, her smile steady as she approached him. “Say that you love her, too.”

He did not hesitate. “I have from the start.”

“And you will marry her?”

“She does not want to marry me,” he shrugged. “And… last night, I said things I should not have. But she was so stubborn, so pugnacious, I simply couldn’t….”

Micheline put her hand on his chest before he could finish. “The trick with Mara is to be more stubborn and more pugnacious than she is. She loves a good fight, but she respects someone who can beat her at her own game. It’s the Irish in her, I suppose.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Mara has Irish bloodlines?”

Micheline nodded. “On our mother’s side. Her grandmother was from Dublin.”

Kirk chuckled, his composure returning as Micheline succeeded in calming his rage with talk of Mara’s stubborn nature, of all things. “She has a lot of fire in her. Certainly it could only be Irish blood.”

Micheline laughed softly, feeling her mood lighten and her horror fade; to have Kirk’s support was more of an emotional boost than she realized. If he wasn’t already smitten with Mara, she might have declared interest in him herself.

“You will promise me something, Sir Kirk,” she said after the laughter faded.

“Anything, my lady.”

“Promise that you will not tell Mara what happened here today. I shall think of something to tell her, but she must never know the truth.”

Kirk gazed into the pale blue eyes before answering. “Of course,” he said softly. “There is no telling what she will do if she learns what Edmund and Johanne subjected you to.”

Micheline turned away from him, sighing heavily as her composure, her wits, returned. “Have you always been aware of their… relationship?”

He paused a moment. “Aye,” he muttered. “But it is something we do not speak of simply for the fact that it is too vile to comprehend. I… I am sorry I did not forewarn you. I truthfully do not know if it would have made a difference even if I had.”

Micheline nodded, running her hand over the mussed coverlet, smelling of sweat and sex. “It would not have,” she murmured. “I would have been forced to marry him regardless.”

Kirk watched her as she gazed at the bed, pondering the course of her future. “Still, I will speak to him,” he said quietly. “Mayhap he will listen to me.”

“And mayhap he will take your interest out on my hide,” Micheline looked at him, amazingly composed now that her cleansing cry was complete. “For my sake, I ask that you not intervene. This is my marriage and I must take responsibility as best I am able.”

Kirk sighed heavily; there was nothing he could say against her sound logic. “As you request, my lady,” the stone-gray eyes twinkled. “Tell me; did you inherit all of the common sense in your family?”

Micheline smiled. “Mara has a good deal of common sense, though she pretends otherwise. Have you never shared a calm conversation with her, Kirk?”

Now he grinned. “Once, after I spanked her. She harbors a great deal of wisdom in her little brain, wisdom I should like to nurture. Mayhap it will overshadow the wild nature, someday.”

“But not entirely.”

He chuckled. “Nay, not entirely. I rather like a hellion.”