Chapter Five #2
He could see she was close to tears. “These people,” she whispered. “They are staring at Micheline and I. I want to leave!”
Micheline heard her sister’s plea, meeting Kirk’s gaze.
His expression was surprisingly gentle, considering his usual reaction to Mara.
Even after spanking her earlier in the day, which her sister had explained with very little outrage, it was obvious he was no longer angry.
And Mara, too, apparently held no grudge.
“Relax, lass,” he said. “They are simply curious and nothing more.”
She shook her head, still holding his hand.
He had escorted Micheline to the dining hall, clean shaven and without his armor.
Mara had followed on Niles’ arm, awed by the sight of Kirk, combed and bathed and in gentlemen clothing, as he chatted pleasantly with her sister.
If she had thought him handsome before, the new picture was enough to set her head spinning.
And he smelled nice, too. A smell of precious oils and pine that filled her nostrils even as he knelt beside the chair and attempted to comfort her.
“They are laughing at us,” she hissed, her bright blue gaze full of uncharacteristic emotion. “You promised there would be no more humiliation for Micheline!”
He sighed, patting her hand. “They are not laughing, love. I would kill them all if they were laughing.”
Mara was not convinced, frustrated that he could not see the truth of the situation.
“Look at us, Kirk.” She let go of him and grabbed a fistful of her skirt.
“Look at this surcoat; it was my mother’s and it is several years old.
And Micheline; she is wearing a silk surcoat that was once burgundy.
Now it’s pink. We’re shamefully dressed, I tell you! ”
He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“You could wear rags and you would both still outshine every woman in this room.” He caught a glimpse of Micheline’s grateful smile from the corner of his eye.
But Mara was still frowning and he touched her cheek gently, rising.
“Do not worry so, Lady Mara. Enjoy the feast and forget about these women who stare. They are simply jealous.”
Mara rolled her eyes miserably. Kirk smiled at her, enjoying her animated response, when Corwin and two women approached the table. Before Mara could further lament the atmosphere of the room, Kirk turned her in the direction of the visitors.
“Lady Mara, you have not yet been introduced to Sir Corwin’s wife and sister-in-law.” He gestured to the identical pale-faced women. “Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda, may I present the Lady Mara le Bec.”
Mara smiled weakly at the woman on Corwin’s arm, who bowed crisply. As she did so, the woman standing next to her mimicked her actions perfectly. It was like watching two of the same person.
“’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Lady Valdine,” she said. “Your husband’s pleasant conversation helped pass the time on our journey here.”
“We…”
“… thank you, my lady.”
Mara blinked. Lady Valdine had started the sentence; her sister had finished it. Puzzled, she looked to Micheline for support. But her sister merely smiled.
“The Lady Valdine and her sister helped me settle into my chamber while you and Sir Kirk were… well, shall we say, in conversation.” Micheline nodded her head at the two ladies. “Good eve to you, ladies.”
The twins bowed again. And they smiled at Micheline at exactly the same time.
“Good eve…”
“… to you, Lady Micheline. We hope…”
“… you chamber is…”
“… satisfactory?”
Mara’s mouth was hanging open. She couldn’t help it. Again, Lady Valdine started the train of speech, Lady Wanda finished it. But Micheline seemed unfazed by the conversation, merely nodding at the pair. “It’s wonderful, thank you. Will you be sitting with us for the meal?”
They shook their head in synchronization. “Nay, my lady. We…”
“… will be seated to…”
“… your left, with the other…”
“… knights and ladies.”
Mara’s head was spinning from the echo-like effect of their peculiar speech. As they bowed their farewell to the table and moved in perfect rhythm for their assigned table, Mara watched with a mixture of fascination and confusion.
“They talk at the same time!” she turned to Kirk, still standing behind her.
He laughed softly. “Nay, they do not. If you notice, they speak in perfect order. One never overlaps the other and they are very precise in what they wish to say.”
“But….” Mara shook her head. “Can they not speak separately?”
“I have never heard them.” Kirk glanced up, noting that the gaily-dressed crier was preparing to announce the arrival of Edmund and Johanne. “Corwin says it was quite difficult to court Valdine. Wanda always seemed to be interfering.”
Mara’s expression was droll. “How in the world could he tell? I’d say the man has two wives for the price of one.”
Kirk snorted softly, observing as the heralds took position for the grand entrance of Lord Edmund de Cleveley, Baron Bowland. Excusing himself politely, he moved away from the table.
Mara watched him move to the grand hall entrance, a towering doorway with carved oak panels. His movements were graceful, agile, and she found herself staring at him as he waited patiently for Edmund’s arrival.
“He is in a far more pleasant mood this eve than he has been,” Micheline said softly.
Mara was still staring at him. “Oh… who?”
Micheline smiled. “Kirk, dear. He seems quite amiable toward you.”
Mara tore her gaze away, focusing on her sister and trying not to appear too agreeable. “It’s amazing what a peaceful afternoon can do for one’s spirits.”
Micheline continued to watch her sister as the woman’s gaze returned to the towering knight. Leaning close, she whispered in her ear. “Did he really spank you this afternoon? Or did he do something else?”
Mara looked puzzled. And shocked. “What else would he do?”
Micheline kissed her on the ear. “This.”
Mara nearly leapt from her chair. “I would never… I never…!”
Micheline laughed softly, grabbing the woman before she could run away. “If you say so, Mara. I will not mention it again, I promise.”
Red about the ears, Mara maintained her seat but refused to look Micheline in the eye.
A kiss was so intimate, so… serious. And it would only lead to the same actions the soldier in the inn had forced upon her.
Actions that were painful and degrading and she had no intention of allowing them to happen again.
Even if the actions would be coming from Kirk.
“I do not like him, Misha.”
“I know.”
“Nay, you do not. I am sincere when I say this.”
“I realize that.”
Mara looked at her sister then, just as the crier announced the appearance of Lord Edmund and his beloved step-sister, Johanne. The heralds blasted their trumpets and the lavishly-dressed guests rose to their feet, but Mara ignored the pomp; her focus remained on Micheline.
“Do not mock me, Misha. I am serious when I say that I want nothing to do with Kirk Connaught.”
Micheline rose, too, her smile fading as she caught sight of her short, muss-haired groom.
“That may be, Mara,” she whispered, “but he wants everything to do with you.”
*
Johanne’s reaction to Micheline hadn’t been quite as severe as Edmund’s.
After the introduction by Kirk, she sized the woman from head to toe before seating herself at her brother’s left.
While Micheline struggled to maintain her composure as Edmund ignored her, Johanne’s attention moved from her brother’s future wife to the dark-haired woman seated at the end of the table.
When Kirk introduced the Lady Mara, Johanne’s eyes narrowed.
“I did not believe the marriage contract called for the addition of a younger sister,” she said as servants began to bring out great trenchers of beef. “Will you be returning to Haslingden after the ceremony, Lady Mara?”
By Edmund’s request, Kirk was seated on his right hand, between the reluctant groom and his new bride. The knight begrudgingly did so, although he was glad for his mediating presence when Johanne began her catty dialogue. Eyeing Mara, his gaze conveyed the demands of proper behavior.
“Nay, my lady.” Mara wasn’t the least bit intimidated by the skinny woman or Kirk’s intense stare. “My sister is my guardian since our parents’ death, a duty that shall go to her new husband. I am afraid I shall be staying at Anchorsholme.”
Johanne’s features tensed as she looked at her brother, who merely lost himself in his boiled carrots and meat. “I see,” she said quietly. “Then we shall simply have to find you a husband, too. There’s hardly room for you here.”
Both Kirk and Micheline watched Mara’s expression as she pondered Johanne’s statement. Challenging would have been an accurate description.
“I do not want a husband, Lady Johanne.”
“Then the cloister is preferable? Excellent. The sooner the better.”
Mara lifted an eyebrow and Kirk groaned inwardly. “Why are you so anxious to be rid of me, Lady Johanne? I have only just arrived. In fact, I rather like it here.” She smiled prettily, settling back in her chair. “I do believe I shall stay a long, long time.”
Micheline sighed heavily, delving into her plate of beef. The head table made an odd picture; the bride and groom devouring their meal and ignoring all else as Kirk sat tall and silent in the center. On the ends, Johanne and Mara were working themselves into a serious confrontation.
“It is obvious to me why you have accompanied your sister, Lady Mara,” Johanne said, her green eyes flashing. “After all, look at your clothing; it is apparent that you have merely come to seek my brother’s wealth.”
Mara shook her head, struggling not to lash out. “I came because I was forced to come, my lady. I have no use for your brother’s wealth.”
Johanne laughed shortly. “Certainly you can use it. By the state of your dress, I’d say you could use it very badly.” She looked at Micheline. “And your sister, too. I must say the two of you are very brave to be seen in public, dressed like paupers.”