Chapter Four #3
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.”
He 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.”
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.”
She glared at him as they crossed the urine-soaked mud. “Do not say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I shall not have you!”
He nudged her with a big arm. “Admit it, Mara. You would have only me.”
She shrieked with frustration, gaining speed to out-walk him. “No!”
Laughing, he followed.