His knees wedged between her slender thighs, sure fingers stroking her gently. Mara leapt with uncertainty but Kirk purred in her ear, words of desire and beauty that calmed her innocent heart. When his finger slipped inside her, discomfort was virtually unknown; she was slick, ready for his throbbing member. No pain, no fear; only rousing passion.
Thunder rolled again, filling the smelly room and all but drowning out Mara’s pants of pleasure. Kirk inserted another finger into her, listening to her groan and nearly exploding with his impatience. His tongue fondled her nipples and he could feel her slippery passage contracting around his fingers, a physical response to the timeless ritual of mating.
He removed his hand from her, no longer capable of restraining himself. Her soft, responsive body called to him and he was shaking with anticipation as he answered, placing his heavy arousal against her and pushing gently. Wet and pulsating, he slipped forward without effort.
He was anchored, sliding deeper by the moment. Mara squirmed, her pants of pleasure less evident as he gained headway. Kirk kissed her deeply, murmuring against her mouth and promising the pain would be momentary. She was so tiny that he was surprised with the ease thus far; still, it was becoming uncomfortable for her and he was acutely aware of the fact.
Gathering her tightly against him, he drew back and coiled his buttocks, driving into her again and feeling her maidenhood breach. Mara yelped into his mouth, the fingers clutching at him digging crescent-shaped wounds into his scalp. She continued to gasp with pain as he rolled onto his side to remove his tremendous weight off her. Holding her close and seated to the hilt, he did not realize that he was gasping, too.
“No… no more,” Mara groaned, feeling crushed and impaled by his huge body. “I do not want to do this anymore.”
He kissed her face, her hair. “The pain is over, lass, I promise,” he murmured tenderly. “You must trust me. ’Twill only become more pleasurable from now on.”
She struggled feebly with him but there was no possible way to escape; he had her tightly, his throbbing manroot clutched deep within her sugared walls. When she failed to respond to his soothing words, Kirk decided to show her what he meant. Holding her against his chest with one hand, the other cupped her heart-shaped bottom and he began to move.
Mara groaned miserably with the first couple of thrusts, feeling full and overwhelmed. But his gentle nurturing, his tender whispers, broke through her haze and instinctively she began to respond to him, experiencing the friction of his manroot as he penetrated deep. Soon enough, the discomfort gave way to a burgeoning fire that grew brighter by the moment.
But Mara’s fire was nothing compared to Kirk’s. He was far gone with passion, feeling her silken body in his embrace, experiencing every throb of her feminine core as the most erotic of caresses. Within seconds he had reached his peak, breathing her name as he released himself deep within her. But he continued to move, feeling the slippery wetness he had put in her, wondering fleetingly if she would be with child by the time they married. He was a selfish man in that he hoped so.
Mara felt his spasms, hearing her name on his strangled groan. But his thrusting continued as he reached between their sweating bodies, his fingers probing her wet curls. A gasping scream erupted from her lips as he gently pinched her throbbing nub, bringing her to a powerful release. Thrashing about as the waves of pleasure consumed her, Mara was vaguely aware of Kirk’s soft laughter.
“So you like this, my little hellion,” he murmured, kissing and nuzzling every inch of her face. “I thought you would.”
As the waves settled, Mara rasped for air. “My… my God, Kirk. What has happened?”
He laughed again, his trencher-sized hands caressing her buttocks. “Delicious, is it not?”
She swallowed, gasped, and swallowed again. She wasn’t sure how to answer him. “I feel so… weak. Weak and wonderful.”
He was still in her, cradling her trembling body against his broad chest. “Aye, lass, weak and wonderful describes me as well. As if I have waited for this moment all my life.”
Mara was silent a moment, listening to her heart pounding in her ears. Brushing the hair from her eyes, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “I had no idea that feelings like this were possible,” she said softly. “And I certainly would never have thought you capable of bringing them about.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “And why not?”
She smiled faintly, a gesture he found utterly beautiful. “Because I hated you, once.”
“You do not hate me now.”
She shook her head, slowly. “Nay,” she reached up, touching his stubbled cheek. He kissed her fingers, the warmth and tenderness of the moment evident. “I do not.”
The thunder rolled again and the rain pounded as he took her mouth with his own, kissing her tenderly until she fell asleep in his arms. More content that he had ever been in his life, sleep claimed him before he realized it.
Chapter Twelve
Lord Lionel le Vay, Baron Wyresdale, was a big man with bushy black eyebrows and gray hair. He greeted Kirk as one would a lost son, welcoming him into the Norman stronghold of Quernmore Castle. And the same warm greeting went for Lionel’s flame-haired daughter as well.
Mara tried not to lash out when Lady Lily le Vay turned her pretty smile in Kirk’s direction. And she further kept her mouth shut when the graceful young woman took his arm and escorted him into the great hall of Quernmore’s tall and block-shaped keep where a lavish table had been set. With Niles as her escort, Mara’s spirits continued to sink as she watched Lady Lily tend to Kirk hand and foot.
The fare served by Lord Lionel was premium. He was a very wealthy man, having gained much of his wealth in shipping so close to the sea. Roast beef, ale, vegetables and sweetcakes filled the lengthy dining table as Niles helped Mara to her seat. The fair-haired knight served her himself but Mara had little appetite; her bright blue eyes were riveted to Kirk as he politely responded to Lady Lily’s attentions.
He met Mara’s piercing stare, several times, winking reassuringly at her. But Mara refused to respond to his gesture, instead, glaring headily at the lovely young woman so obviously infatuated with him. Even after Kirk introduced Mara as Edmund’s sister-in-law, she maintained her grim mood in the face of Lady Lily’s bubbling personality.
She seemed to be nice enough, but Mara could hardly see past her own jealousy. Lady Lily’s ladies-in-waiting joined them for the refreshments and Mara found herself contending with not one, but four women all eager to speak with Kirk. Her cheeks flushed but she said nothing, as hard as it was for her to control herself. She had promised Kirk that she would behave and was determined to keep her promise no matter what the circumstance.
Kirk did not seem particularly interested in the women, his gaze mostly on Mara or on his food. She had long since stopped glaring in his direction, instead, focused on her trencher lest she be forced to break her promise. Next to her, Niles’ voice lifted in greeting and much to her reluctance, Mara found herself pulled into the conversation.
Lifting her gaze, she found herself staring into the pale blue eyes of a very large, very blond knight. He was a handsome fellow with a wide, toothy grin and he took Mara’s hand chivalrously.
“Sir Spencer de Shera, my lady,” he kissed her fingers gently, his eyes never leaving her. “At your service.”
Mara was a fast thinker. Gazing into the face of the handsome knight, she suddenly saw the opportunity to make Kirk pay for Lady Lily’s attention. If she could only make him jealous enough that he would shun the woman and drop to his knees to beg Mara’s forgiveness, then she would ask no more. Smiling brightly at Sir Spencer, she gestured him to sit between her and Niles.
“A pleasure, Sir Spencer,” she scooted over to allow the man room. “Would you share our meal?”
Spencer continued to grin, practically shoving Niles to the ground in his haste. “ ’Twould be an honor,” he sat heavily, his scabbard pinching Mara’s thigh. She yelped and he was mortified
. “Forgive me, my lady. I should have been more cautious!”
She rubbed her leg, smiling weakly, wondering if Kirk was watching the exchange. “No harm done, truly,” she removed her hand from her throbbing thigh, collecting her chalice. “Tell me; how long have you served at Quernmore?”
“Six years, my lady,” he could hardly eat with such a beautiful lady by his side. “Lord le Vay knighted me personally and I have been commanding his troops ever since.”
Mara acted as if truly involved in their conversation, hoping Kirk was beginning to boil. “How splendid. Where were you born?”
“York. My mother was Scots, royal by blood.”
“Is that so?” she could see Niles’ expression over Spencer’ shoulder and she imagined that he looked rather on-edge. And she could guess the reason. “Very impressive. I have had several uncles that have served various kings, but I have no direct blood relation to the crown. Is your mother still living?”
He nodded, warming to her and feeling like a giddy squire. “She and my father reside near Alnwick Castle in Northumberland. I have six younger sisters that they are trying to marry off as we speak.”
Mara laughed. “If the ladies are anything like their brother then I am sure your parents will have little difficulty,” his freckled cheeks flushed profusely and she laughed again. “Your modesty is astounding, Sir Spencer. Surely you have been snatched by some fortunate lady?”
He shook his head. “I have not,” his voice softened, his pale blue eyes intense. “Are… are you spoken for, my lady?”
Mara never had the chance to reply. Kirk was suddenly between them, cleaving any further conversation. Spencer glanced up, startled by the abrupt appearance.
“Sir K-Kirk,” he stammered, leaping to his feet. “An honor, my lord. I did not want to interrupt your conversation with Lord Lionel, else I would have greeted you already.”
Kirk struggled to keep from wrapping his hands around Spencer’ throat. He was a good knight, intelligent and strong, and Kirk liked him a great deal. Or at least he had until the man turned his interest on Mara, who did little to discourage the attention.
“If you will notice, Lord Lionel has left the room to tend to a brief matter,” he was growling. “Now you may properly greet me. And you will vacate this seat immediately.”
Spencer did as he was told. Mara was sorry she had caused the man trouble, but the end result was what she hoped for; Lady Lily was alone at the head of the table. And Kirk, even though he wasn’t begging forgiveness for allowing another woman to occupy his attention, was nonetheless standing by her side.
“I… I apologize, my lord,” Sir Spencer said respectfully. “I was not aware that I was offending anyone.”
“You were not,” Mara said, rising from the bench. “I enjoyed meeting you, Sir Spencer. Mayhap we can continue our conversation at another time.”
Kirk gazed down at her, suspecting what she had been up to and greatly perturbed. He was about to remove her from the room and explain his displeasure with the palm of his hand to her buttocks when Lord le Vay re-emerged into the great hall. Motioning to Kirk, the knight had no choice but to go with the man and deliver his message privately.
But not before he looked to Mara and then to Niles. “Take her in hand, Niles,” he said deliberately, ignoring Spencer altogether. “I shall trust you and you alone.”
Niles nodded, watching as Kirk passed a heady glare at Spencer before departing. And Spencer, normally mild-mannered and quite congenial, glared in return. Without benefit of spoken word, Niles realized the battle lines had already been drawn.
Mara, too, wasn’t oblivious to the intense expressions between the men and it was oddly flattering. Not that Spencer had any possible chance in pursuing her; still, it somehow made her feel more secure. As long as Kirk was willing to obviously establish that she belonged to him, then she was satisfied.
As Kirk marched away, she called after him. He paused, waiting as she caught up to him. His expression did not soften even when she smiled.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To meet with le Vay.”
She gazed at him a moment, studying his hard features. “Why are you so angry?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You know why. And you are not behaving yourself in the least in spite of your promise.”
This time, she hardened. “I believe I have behaved myself quite well. I did not tear Lady Lily’s hair out by the roots when she put her hands on you, did I? And when her ladies vied for your attention, I kept silent, did I not? How dare you accuse me of breaking my promise!”
His jaw ticked and she could see his facade wavering. “Lady Lily is certainly no threat and her ladies are barely mentionable. I am used to their silly games. But as for de Shera….” He cast a long glance at Spencer, now in conversation with Niles. “You will stay away from him, Mara.”
“Will you stay away from Lily?”
He sighed with frustration, laboring to keep his voice quiet. “It is different with her. I must be polite lest I offend le Vay. But with de Shera, there is no reason for you to even communicate with the man. Am I understood?”
A smile played on her lips. “You are jealous of him.”
He growled. “You are mine, lass, body and soul. I shall kill the man if he comes near you again.”
Her smile broke through. “Then why do not you announce to the world that I am yours? That should keep Lily and Spencer away from us.”
“I cannot announce anything until I speak with Edmund and he makes our betrothal official. Not that I have any doubts, but it is best to remain silent until we have his blessing.”
Mara regarded him a moment before turning a coy gaze in Spencer’s direction. “He seems very nice, actually.”
He was in no mood for her foolery, taunting him with her mastery over him. “Enough of that nonsense or I shall spank you as I did before.” He pointed a mailed glove in the direction of the table. “Now, go and sit with Niles and behave yourself. I do not know how long I shall be with le Vay and I do not want to worry over you while I am gone.”
Her smile faded as she sensed more than irritation in his manner; he had failed to respond to her teasing in his usual fashion. Reaching out, she grasped his arm. “You will not,” she said softly. “Is something the matter, Kirk? You seem… edgy.”
He found himself swallowed by the brilliant eyes, thoughts of the previous night filling his veins with warmth. “Nothing you should concern yourself over, love,” he patted her hand. “Go with Niles. I shall seek you when I am finished.”
As Mara watched him disappear from the great hall, a thought occurred to her; he had never clarified why they had come to Quernmore in the first place, aside from the fact that he wanted her away from Anchorsholme. Obviously, there was a motivation and she wondered seriously what it might be. Kirk had been perfectly calm until they had arrived, but now, he seemed preoccupied and harsh.
Thoughtfully, she turned for the table laden with a half-finished feast and chattering people. Niles and Spencer had finished their conversation, Niles waiting patiently for her to return as Spencer seemed focused on his drink.
Niles served her a fresh helping of meat and she delved in with gusto. Ignoring Lady Lily’s inquisitive stares and Spencer’s brooding silence, her mind remained focused on Kirk as he met with Lionel le Vay. She wondered why he seemed so edgy even though he had told her not to be troubled by it. Anything that worried him, she was naturally concerned.
But there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. Her more prevalent concern was staying clear of Sir Spencer now that she had enticed the man. As she approached the feasting table that looked as if it had been picked over, she was considering all manner of behavior to un-entice him.
Unfortunately for her, he proved rather resistant to her revolting charms.
Chapter Thirteen
“This has just arrived, Lord Edmund,” Corwin’s voice was tight, his face beaded with sweat from racing up three flight
s of stairs. “From Wicklow.”
Edmund snatched the missive, damp and stained, from the knight’s hand. He nearly tore it in his haste to unroll the parchment, his faded green eyes greedily consuming the message contained. After a moment, he sighed with great remorse.
“My God…,” he breathed, his eyes still glued to the vellum.
“What’s happened?”
Edmund sighed again. The sun was beginning to set on the winter-dead fields of Lancashire, a break in the storm permitting a few weak rays to caress the landscape. The small solar was musty, dim, lit only by a tallow taper and a fire in the hearth. As Edmund rounded the large desk, the vellum still in his hand, Corwin struggled to make sense of the expression on the man’s face.
“So it comes,” Edmund said slowly, letting the parchment fall to the desktop. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed again as if his entire body was deflating. “My foolish Irish vassals have finally managed to overrun the Castle. Kirk’s father has been killed in the siege.”
Corwin visibly blanched. “Christ,” he hissed. “We must send Kirk a missive immediately.”
Edmund nodded, watching the weak flicker of the hearth. “I have lost him completely.”
“Who?”
“Kirk,” Edmund turned away from the blaze, pacing. “The arrival of the le Bec sisters has driven a wedge between us. Kirk appointed himself their protector and his loyalty to me was weakened.”
“Foolishness, my lord,” Corwin chided softly. “Kirk is ever loyal to the House of de Cleveley.”
Edmund stopped pacing, shaking his head. “Not at all,” he insisted. “Certainly, I cannot give him what the youngest sister has. My loyalties would be swayed, too, by a beautiful face and sensual body.”
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