Brides of Ireland

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  And this wishing away business; she had started it as a child, wishing animals away that displeased her. A rabbit that bit her, a kitten that scratched. As her step-brother and protector, Edmund had made sure the offensive beasts were removed and convinced Johanne that the powers of her mind had made it so. But as she got older and her psychosis more evident, she took to wishing people away and it was Edmund obligation to continue what he had started.

  “If she does not understand our relationship, then I will permit you to wish her away as you have done the others,” he said after a moment. “But not before she bears me a son. Until such time, Lady Micheline is safe from your wishing powers.”

  Johanne seemed satisfied, lying down on the mattress and stroking herself intimately. “I have saved my wishing powers for those women who turn their attentions on Kirk. This will be the first time I have used them for you.”

  Edmund lifted the bolt. “Patience, Johanne. Lady Micheline might work into our family quite nicely.”

  “Mayhap.” Johanne closed her eyes as her orgasm began to build. Edmund paused, watching his step-sister manipulate herself. “If all else fails, mayhap I shall put the two of you in bed together and watch. And if Kirk is a good boy, I shall ask him to join me.”

  “Kirk would never do such a thing,” she murmured. “He’s far too pure. He’s saving himself for me, you know.”

  “You mean you have eliminated all competition.”

  “I have had to.”

  Gaze lingering on his sister as her frail mind lost itself in the throes of a powerful climax, Edmund turned and quit the room.

  His virgin bride was waiting.

  The first time Edmund beheld Mara, he immediately announced his satisfaction in his bride. Mara blushed as Kirk corrected his lord, introducing the Lady Micheline le Bec as the man’s intended. Edmund’s response couldn’t have been crueler had he slapped her.

  It was obvious he wasn’t pleased. Micheline stammered through her gracious speech, her cheeks flushing madly and her hands trembling. Mara remained astride her worn palfrey, fury such as she had never known filling her as Micheline offered herself to her displeased groom. When the elder sister finished her speech and gave the man a timid smile, Edmund did nothing more than turn his back and return to the keep. Leaving the escort party embarrassed and sympathetic, Kirk endeavored to make amends to the humiliated bride.

  “Lord Edmund has never been the congenial sort, my lady,” he said apologetically. “But he is fair. In fact, I would be surprised if he did not apologize for his conduct at the feast tonight.”

  Mara was off her palfrey, her bright blue eyes blazing. “There will be no feast!” she spat. “We’re going home, Sir Kirk, and you are going to take us. We’re not staying another moment where we’re not wanted.”

  Kirk could hardly demand she control herself when Micheline had been righteously insulted. Maintaining his calm, he grasped Mara by the arm.

  “You are indeed wanted, my lady,” he said quietly. “I realize it is difficult to believe given Lord Edmund’s reaction, but you must trust me when I say that he has been anticipating your arrival.”

  “He was anticipating the arrival of a beauty,” Micheline said softly, turning for her mare. “I do not meet his criteria, Sir Kirk. Mayhap it would be best if you return us home.”

  Kirk watched the lady move for her horse, her movements slow and shameful. His heart ached for her, another strange emotion he had never experienced. But, given Edmund’s character, he should not have been shocked by the man’s behavior. He should have expected it.

  “I cannot, Lady Micheline,” he said quietly. “Only Lord Edmund can return you home. For now, I suggest you settle into your room and prepare for the evening’s meal.”

  “Prepare for what? More humiliation?” Mara shook her head. “I shall not allow it, Sir Kirk. I shall cut the man’s heart out if he shames her again.”

  Kirk raised an eyebrow. “Watch your tongue, lady. You speak of your benefactor.”

  “I speak of an insensitive, boorish clod,” she snapped. “He’s no prize himself. What gives him the right to judge my sister’s appearance?”

  Kirk drew a steadying breath. “Corwin,” he said slowly. “Please take Lady Micheline into the keep. I suspect Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda are waiting to show her to her chamber.”

  “What of Lady Mara?” Niles did not like the look in Kirk’s eye. “I’d be happy to take….”

  “I shall take her in hand.” Kirk cut him off. “You may disband the escort.”

  Niles did not argue. Turning to the men-at-arms, he began to bellow orders as Corwin collected Micheline’s satchel from her horse. There was a small wagon containing a few trunks and other personal items and he ordered several hovering servants to see to those things. Grasping the red-cheeked bride by the arm, he escorted her past Kirk and Mara without a glance.

  Mara watched her sister disappear into the castle. The moment Micheline vanished, she turned to Kirk.

  “I do not care what you do to me, I am not going to apologize for my words,” she said in a low voice. “Your precious Lord Edmund is a fiend and if you expect me to….”

  He cut her off by yanking her across the bailey. His strides were long and Mara had to run to keep up. Even as he pulled her to a side entrance that led into the castle, still, she refused to recant her words. Just inside the door lay a cool, vacant corridor and he let go of her arm. The moment he fixed her with his stone-gray gaze, however, apprehension began to simmer.

  He did not waste any time. Planting himself on a stone seat jutting from the wall, he yanked Mara over his knee and tossed up her skirts. Furious, not to mention terrified, Mara twisted and shrieked as he brought his gigantic palm to bear on her bottom not once, but twice. Listening to her yelp, he paused briefly, his hand hovering above her reddened bum.

  “I told you what would happen with your next infraction,” he growled. “No more unbridled words, no more rebellion. Do you understand me?”

  She did not answer him, struggling to remove herself from his lap. He spanked her again and her resistance waned.

  “Answer me. Do you understand?”

  She was breathing heavily against his thighs; he could feel her. “Beat me if you must, Sir Kirk, but I will never surrender to your tyranny. Especially when I speak the truth!”

  He swatted her again, not quite as hard, for her buttocks were becoming terribly red. Tender, white, heart-shaped buttocks he would have much rather sank his teeth into than strike with his hand.

  “Correct or no, you will listen to me and you will obey.” He suddenly put her skirts down, flipping her onto her back. Cradling her as if she was a very large infant, he wagged a grim finger in her face. “We will not have this conversation again. I spanked you in punishment for your actions, but hear me now as I explain the rules you will live by here at Anchorsholme. There will be no more impolite behavior, no more disobedience. You will present the model of a perfect lady or you will answer to me as you just have. Is this clear?”

  Mara’s eyes were wide, staring into orbs of cold steel. He was holding her tightly and had she not been so unbalanced, she might have allowed herself to experience the sensation. But she could only gaze back at him, into the face that Micheline had called handsome. And she suddenly found herself willing to admit, for the very first time, that Micheline had been right. He was handsome.

  “It… it is,” she heard herself whisper, hardly believing that she was giving in so easily. But she couldn’t seem to control her submission, a submission accompanied by a weakening warmth. The longer he glared at her, the more powerful the warmth became.

  “Good.” He, too, could hardly believe she had surrendered as easily as she had. In fact, it was too good to believe. “If I need to pound out another rhythm on your buttocks to underscore my point, then I shall be happy to do so.”

  Mara shook her head weakly, unable to tear herself away from his incredible eyes. Beautiful eyes, she found herself thinking. Beaut
iful eyes of a beautiful, powerful man who wasn’t intimidated by her in the least. And mayhap that was a good thing.

  “No need, my lord.” Her voice was sweet, faint, as he had once remembered thinking on the day she had nearly thrown herself from the window. “I understand perfectly, although I cannot guarantee the lesson will be immediately.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, his thoughts turning from spanking her buttocks to the wonderful warmth of her in his arms. “What does this mean?”

  Mara swallowed, realizing his grip on her had tightened. As much as the new sensation enticed her, it was also frightening. Frightening that a man she had sworn to hate could create such havoc in her naive, stubborn mind.

  “Would you mind letting me stand?” she asked.

  He obliged, aware that he liked her much better in his arms. Mara straightened her surcoat before fixing him in the eye, far calmer than she had been when they had entered the deserted corridor.

  “It means that old habits die hard,” she said frankly. “I am used to speaking my mind, Sir Kirk, and….”

  “Kirk.”

  “Beg pardon, my lord?”

  “You will call me simply Kirk,” he said without a hint of warmth. “Now continue.”

  Mara looked strangely at him but did as he asked. “I… very well, if you insist. As I said, I am used to speaking my mind and it will be quite difficult for me to rein my natural actions.”

  “Unbridled responses are not natural. They are the result of a complete lack of discipline. Did not your father maintain any control over you whatsoever?”

  Mara looked away from him, studying the walls, the floor. “Nay,” she said. “He was too busy losing money. Or drunk. And mother was sick most of the time, too ill to deal with me.”

  Kirk’s hard stance softened as he watched her emotional vulnerability come through yet again. Last night in the inn had been only a foretaste.

  “So you and Micheline took care of each other,” he finished quietly. “And from what I have seen of your sister, she is hardly able to take a stand against you.”

  Mara nodded, leaning against the opposite wall. “We have always taken care of one another because no one else could.” She fixed him in the eye, her lovely face soft with emotion. “That is why I cannot allow her to marry a man who would treat her with such disrespect. Can’t you understand that I must protect her?”

  Kirk sighed, resting against the wall. “You do not have a choice, love. This betrothal contract has nothing to do with you.”

  Mara heard the affectionate term, unsure how to react. A name that seemed to intensify the odd, quivering warmth she was already experiencing.

  “I realize that, but it does not discourage my determination,” she replied, her heart leaping strangely against her ribcage. “Misha is… delicate. She cannot take care of herself as I am able. And I refuse to allow this… I mean, Lord Edmund to humiliate her further. She’s known enough degradation in her time.”

  Kirk crossed his muscular arms, his expression curious. “What does this mean? How else has your sister met with humiliation?”

  For the first time since he had known her, Mara seemed to falter. She refused to look at him as she spoke.

  “Father… he used Misha to support his gambling habit by forcing her to dance and sing for coin.” She kicked distractedly at the stone. “That is why she did not want to sleep in an inn last night. Father used to take her into taverns to entertain the soldiers while he left me on the street, pretending to be an orphan. Somehow I always managed to make more money begging than Misha did with her talents, which only added to her shame.”

  He did not reply. When Mara finally looked up from her feet, she was surprised to note his expression harsh. She cocked her head curiously, gazing into eyes as cold as steel.

  “Why do you look like that?”

  Kirk seemed to stare at her a long, long time. “Because your father was a cruel man. And his cruelty continues as he forces his eldest to wed in order to settle a gambling debt.”

  Mara nodded, moving closer to him. When he wasn’t taunting or threatening her, he was quite approachable. “Now you see why I cannot permit her to wed a man who will only continue to humiliate her. Our parents died within weeks of each other two years ago and since that time, we’ve known our only measure of peace. Now the cycle of shame threatens all over again.”

  She was standing beside the stone seat, level with his eyes. He found himself devouring every contour of her face. “I will speak to Lord Edmund. Have no doubt that he will be considerate of your sister’s feelings when I explain the situation.”

  Mara frowned. “If he wasn’t considerate of her feelings the moment he met her, why should your explanation make any difference?”

  “Because Edmund trusts me.”

  “And based on the word of his servant, he is supposed to amend his attitude?”

  This time, Kirk frowned. “I am not his servant.”

  Mara sat down on the edge of the seat, yelping when her sore bum touched the cold surface. Leaping up, she rubbed her backside as she spoke. “If you are not his servant, then what are you?”

  Kirk crossed his thick arms. “My father and grandfather came into service through lands in Ireland that were a wedding dowry to Lord Edmund’s grandsire. I have freely pledged my loyalty to the House of de Cleveley and I am certainly not a servant.”

  She continued to gaze at him and he could literally see the thoughts tumbling through her mind. “But you had little choice in the matter to serve the House of de Cleveley if you were part of a marriage contract.”

  “I do not consider my fealty a matter of choice. I wanted to serve the House of de Cleveley, as it was my family’s legacy. I fostered at Kenilworth at a very young age and came into Monroe de Cleveley’s service as soon as I was knighted.”

  “Monroe de Cleveley?”

  “Edmund’s father.”

  Mara nodded, eyeing him thoughtfully. “So you fostered at Kenilworth with a host of arrogant English boys. Then why do you still possess an Irish brogue? Did not your trainers whip it out of you?”

  He smiled faintly. “They tried.” He scratched his ear. “God only knows, I was beaten, starved, belittled and tortured. But they could not take it out of me. The more they tried, the more I refused.”

  Mara’s eyes widened. “They did that?”

  “They did.”

  She stared at him, the strong lines of his face, the square angle of his jaw. “Then you have known the same shame as Micheline and I have.”

  He shrugged. “What my trainers did to me was not considered shameful. It was considered necessary.”

  Mara continued to watch him as he scratched his head again, emitting a weary sigh. Now that the chaos of their journey had ended, he seemed fatigued and Mara impulsively knelt beside him, her small hands on his tree-sized legs. Considering she couldn’t sit, it was the only possible position.

  “Please, Sir Kirk,” she said softly. “Please help me take Micheline away from here. If you understand humiliation as you said you have, then you should be eager to help.”

  He gazed down at her. A massive gauntlet reached out, stroking her cheek before he could stop himself.

  “I cannot,” he murmured. “But I promise that I will speak to Edmund. He is not an unreasonable man.”

  Mara stared at him as he continued to caress her cheek, the strange warmth in her belly igniting into a raging fire. But it wasn’t enough to overcome her frustration and she jerked away, turning her back on him.

  “You will not touch me that way,” she said, her quaking voice belying the thrill of his touch. “I do not think I like it.”

  He laughed. Startled, Mara turned in time to see him rising to his feet, snorting with mirth.

  “Aye, you do, but you’re too stubborn to admit it,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Tell me, Mara; does your guard never go down?”

  She turned her nose up at him. “I have never been given reason enough to lower it.”

  H
e laughed again. “Fair enough. Mayhap someday, if I am in the right mood, I shall give you reason enough.”

  She did not like his smug attitude. But he made her grin just the same and she kept her face averted as she picked at her nails. “Mayhap I have already had a better offer,” she said, simply to poke holes in his confidence. “Mayhap another knight will declare his interest. Sir Niles, or someone else.”

  Kirk’s smile vanished. Mara continued picking at her nails but she could feel his presence behind her, hovering.

  “Did Niles declare his interest?”

  She shrugged carelessly, biting her lower lip to keep the smile from spreading. “Not yet. But I have seen the expression on his face when he looks at me. Yet, I suppose it would be foolish of him to believe he could tolerate my lively nature.”

  It took him a moment to realize she was goading him. Staring at the back of her luscious head, he raised an eyebrow.

  “I am the only man alive who would be able to tolerate your lively nature, as you call it.” He turned for the door that led back into the bailey. “And I shall, when the time is right.”

  She cast him a long glance, somewhere between coy and doubtful. “What does that mean?”

  He paused in the doorway, the light beyond giving him a surreal silhouette. Mara could see the gleam in the stone-gray eyes. “It means that someday, when I am feeling particularly foolish, I might take you off Edmund’s hands.”

  She her lips twitched with the threat of a smile. She did not want to give into the grin, knowing that he was speaking of marriage, but somehow the thought of marriage to Kirk Connaught wasn’t entirely repulsive. As much as she professed her hatred for the man, still, he intrigued her like no one ever had.

  “I do not want you,” she sniffed. “I would rather marry a pig.”

  He grinned. “I will give you time to reconsider. Or mayhap I shan’t marry you at all. I haven’t yet decided.”

  Her eyebrows rose to his careless statement. “Is that so? Then I shall decide for you. The answer is no!”

  She gathered her skirts and pushed past him, out into the bailey. Smirking, he followed. “Now you make my decisions for me? Ah, just like a good wife.”