Page 64 of The Darkland

He tore a leaf from a dead foxglove, picking at it distractedly. “Some strange female ailment. Her mother would not tell me everything, only that she bled to death somehow.” He could hear Mara’s footfalls as she came up behind him and he repressed the urge to look over his shoulder. As long as she was listening to him, he intended to keep her occupied. Even with a story that brought tears to his eyes. “She was a lovely girl. Tiny, with long brown hair and big brown eyes. And she could sing like an angel.”

Mara knew she shouldn’t be listening to him; he had been trying to confuse and intimidate her all evening and she had no reason to believe that this was anything other than a ploy. But because he sounded so sincere, she could not help but listen.

“I cannot sing,” she said, still standing behind him. “My sister can, a little.”

Spencer tossed the leaf he had been toying with into the pond. “I miss my Genevieve. I miss her laughter, her smile. And I suppose when I saw you… well, the attraction was instant. And I saw a chance for happiness again.”

Mara was feeling rather torn; he sounded so pathetic. But the fact remained that she wasn’t interested in him no matter how sorrowful his past. No matter how much he was attempting to draw her to him. Impulsively, she plopped onto the bench beside him.

“I feel for you, Sir Spencer, truly,” she said. “But the fact remains that I am not Genevieve and I am not interested in marrying you. When I flirted with you earlier today, it was for no other reason than to make Kirk jealous. I am truly sorry if I gave you false hope, but you must understand that I love Kirk and I shall be his wife. There will be another woman to heal your heart, I am sure. But that woman is not me.”

Spencer turned to her, studying the beauty of her face. “You say that with such certainty. How can you know?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “And I ask you, how canyouknow that I am the woman to replace your Genevieve? If, in fact, she truly existed at all.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “I would not lie to you, my lady.”

“Not even to entice my pity and, mayhap, even my comfort?”

“Nay,” he shook his head slowly. “Is that what you thought?”

She shrugged. “You have spent the evening truly to dissuade me from Kirk. What else am I to think?”

“I was simply trying to help you think clearly, but I will admit it was for purely selfish reasons.” His gaze raked her. “But Genevieve… she was very, very real. And the woman who was casting you the evil eye all night is Genevieve’s older sister.”

Mara’s eyebrows rose in mild astonishment. “Lady Lily’s woman? But you said you had rejected her suit.”

He turned away, his eyes lingering on the pond. “I did. When Geni died, Juliet took it upon herself to marry me. Only I wanted nothing to do with her and she resents me for it.”

Mara shook her head, rubbing her arms against the chill of the night. “How terrible for all of you,” she said. After a moment, she cast Spencer a long glance. “Then surely you of all people should see the reality of what I am telling you. As you rejected Juliet’s suit, I am rejecting yours. I am simply not interested.”

He refused to look at her, instead, tearing off another dried twig and tossing the pieces into the pond. “I can change that.”

“I do not want you to change it,” she said firmly. But her tone was kind. “Spencer, I love Kirk. If you loved Genevieve, then you can understand my position. Please do not make this difficult.”

His jaw ticked, his face ghostly beneath the haunting moon. “It was not my intention to be difficult,” he said softly. “But I know I can make you happy if you will only give me a chance. Kirk is the only beau you have ever known; how do you know he is the man to love and cherish you for the rest of your life? He guards The Darkland, for Heaven’s sake. The man has allowed several murders to happen, overlooking the fact that his liege is a vicious monster simply because he is afraid to confront the truth. Is that the kind of man you wish to marry? Loyal to his oath to the point of injustice?”

Mara never had the chance to reply. A soft hum filled the air and Spencer bolted to his feet, his hand moving to the sword strapped to his thigh. Mara gasped, stumbling away from the bench as flashes of moonlight against metal blinded her. And she knew, even before she saw the face, who had come upon them.

Stone-gray eyes that were as cold as the blade of his broadsword.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kirk faced offagainst Spencer beneath the silver moon, blade upon blade, will against will. And from the look in Spencer’ eyes, Kirk knew it would not be an easy fight.

“So you bring her into the night to feed her lies against me.” Kirk shook his head slowly. “I once considered you my friend, Spencer. I can see that I was mistaken.”

Spencer did not waver. His hand was steady, his broadsword against Kirk’s. “You were not mistaken, my lord. But there are times when friendship pales in comparison to desire. And in response to your accusation, I did not feed the lady lies against you. Nothing I have said has been untrue.”

Kirk regarded him carefully, his words directed at Mara. “Has he been bold against you, lass?”

Terrified of what was to come, Mara shook her head. “Nay, Kirk. He never touched me.”

“But he has tried to turn you against me.”

Tension filled the air. And Mara knew, once the battle started, it would only end when death claimed one of the combatants. And the thought that Kirk might fall victim scared her to death.

Quickly, she moved to his side, a gentle hand on the arm that held the sword. “He could never turn me against you,” she said softly. “Please come back to the hall with me. I want to dance.”