Chapter Seven
Mara had no idea what Kirk meant by his strange statement.
And he never gave her the chance to ask.
One moment she was gazing into his stone gray eyes, and in the next his mouth was consuming her luscious lips with a hunger.
It was the first time a man had ever kissed her, slow and warm and insistent, and before Mara realized her actions, small hands were weaving themselves into his hair.
He was oh so tender with her, like a tiny fragile flower.
He tasted gently, tickling her lips with his tongue until she opened wide to his seeking warmth.
Mara gasped, squirmed, and gasped anew as his massive arms pulled her against his chest. Focused on the new experience of his wonderful mouth, she was unaware when he lay her on the bed, partially covering her with his enormous body.
One hand still held her tightly as the other forged into virgin territory.
Delicately, he touched the swell of her breast, listening to her purr like a kitten.
Feeling bolder, he gently enclosed the entire breast, his kisses more passionate, more forceful, as she responded.
He released her lips, intending to taste every inch of her beautiful face when she suddenly turned the tables on him, peppering his jaw and cheeks with hot little kisses.
“Dear God,” he breathed, caressing the firmness of her breast as she attacked his face. “Mara, Mara… you’re a hellion more than you know, lass.”
She heard him, kissing his eyes, clinging to him with a fervor.
For a sheltered young lady who had known little of the ways between men and women, it was apparent that Kirk brought out her animal instincts.
Fingers anchored in his dark hair, she was in the process of raining kisses across his forehead when he suddenly lowered his head, dragging his mouth over the swell of her breasts.
The too-long surcoat was loosening. Kirk pulled Mara away from his face, forcing her back onto the mattress as his hands sought her bare breasts.
She moaned softly as he pinched a nipple, rolling it into a hot little bud.
Consumed with the need to taste her, to suckle the life from her pert breasts, Kirk realized through his haze of lust that the neckline of the surcoat was too constricting for his needs.
But the moment he moved to lift her skirts, she balked.
“Nay!” she gasped, slapping at his hands. “Not… not that!”
He frowned with concern. “Not what, love?”
Panting with desire and a surge of fright, she tried to squirm away from him. Kirk grasped her wrists to prevent her from leaping off the bed.
“What is the matter?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm. “What have I done, Mara?”
She refused to look him in the eye, her cheeks flushing bright. Seeing her obvious discomfort, and fear, Kirk gently kissed her hands, hoping to ease her. Not a moment ago she had been alive with awakening desire; now she was withdrawn and fearful. And he would know why.
“Tell me, lass,” he whispered, straightening the neckline of her surcoat where it drooped. “I would know what I have done to upset you so.”
She struggled with herself for a moment. Finally, the bright blue gaze lifted hesitantly. “I… I do not want you to touch me… there.”
“Where?”
She lifted an eyebrow with as much force as she could muster. “There.”
He understood immediately. “I wasn’t going to,” mostly truth, although it had been his next target after her delicious breasts.
Still clutching her wrists, he pulled her toward him in a gentle, comforting manner.
“Mara, you realize that when men and women mate, at some point, touching is necessary. And when we marry…”
“I never said I’d marry you.”
He acted as if he hadn’t heard her. “When we marry, it will be necessary for me to touch you there in order to produce children. It’s perfectly natural, lass. Why does it frighten you so?”
Her expression was suddenly filled with shame and she turned her face away.
True to her forthright nature, however, she made no attempt to cover the truth.
No matter how humiliating. “The soldier in the inn… he touched me there and it was painful,” she could feel his gaze on her. “I hated every minute of it.”
Kirk was quiet a moment. “You told me that he did not take your maidenhood.”
“He did not,” she forced herself to look at him. “But his fingers… they touched me.”
He did not say any more. Pulling her stiff body against him, he lay back on the soft pillows, holding her tightly. Mara gave in to his comfort, his heat, sighing with contentment as he gently caressed her.
“Are you angry?” her voice was small.
“Why should I be?” he said softly. “I understand your fear and I am sorry that you are frightened of something that can be quite wonderful. Obviously, your first experience was dreadful. But you must realize that it will be different with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I will be gentle, lass. I shall take the time needed to introduce you into the world of desire.”
“But it will hurt, will it not? My mother told me once that it is painful for a woman to lose her virginity.”
“I have heard that it is,” his voice was quiet as he turned, capturing her against his chest and gazing down into her wonderful eyes. “In truth, I have never bedded a virgin before. I suppose this will be a new experience for the both of us.”
She raised an eyebrow and he caught a glimpse of her stubborn nature returning. “You speak as if I have already agreed to this. I told you quite clearly that I did not want to marry you.”
“Would you rather have someone else?”
“And if I did?”
“Then I will kill him,” Kirk sounded entirely sincere. “I shall kill any man who tries to take you from me, Mara. I swear it.”
The gently-taunting air of their conversation had turned serious.
Mara raised her head, leaning on an elbow as she studied his strong, handsome face.
“You once told me to jump from the window ledge to entertain you,” she said, reaching out a timid hand to stroke his cheek.
“I told you that I hated you. And still you want me?”
He smiled faintly. “I think I have from the moment I first saw you. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life.”
“Then why did you tell me to jump?”
His smile broadened. “So I could save you and you would be forever indebted to me. Why else?”
She matched his smile, giggling when he enfolded her in his arms and rolled across the bed. Mara ended up with her head hanging over the side of the mattress, quickly succumbing to the scorching kisses Kirk was depositing on her neck.
“I still say that I do not want to marry you,” she breathed, the blood rushing to her head. “But supposing I have a weak moment and agree, will we live here?”
He grunted, tasting her sweet flesh. “I think not. One of my brothers can come and serve Edmund and Johanne. You and I shall return to Ireland. You will not stay at Anchorsholme any longer than necessary.”
“Because you fear for me?”
He stopped kissing her. Mara raised her head, gazing into intense gray eyes.
“Because I fear what I might do if you are threatened,” he sighed heavily, his gaze raking her face.
“My family has served the House of de Cleveley for three generations, Mara. I would hate to be the link in the chain that destroyed the standards of service my father and grandfather set.”
“By killing for me?”
He nodded faintly. “Aye, love,” he whispered. “By killing for you. By killing them all.”
*
The evening feast was a less fanciful affair than it had been the previous evening.
Most of the guests had departed, leaving the cavernous grand hall rather empty.
Aside from a few senior soldiers, the knights and their ladies, all was silent and somber as the meal of pork and boiled vegetables was served.
Mara and Micheline sat at the head table, a bank of smoking tallow candles burning brightly before them.
They were clad in surcoats they had brought from Haslingden, faded garments in contrast to Johanne’s brilliant scarlet frock.
But there was no humiliation in their appearance this night; proudly, they wore the old dresses.
For no amount of convincing from Kirk or the twin ladies could convince them to wear the beautiful dresses of the dead women.
Kirk sat between Edmund and Micheline again this night, silently consuming his meal. Micheline ate silently as well, as did Mara. The only conversation, soft and intimate, was between Edmund and Johanne as they tittered and whispered privately.
Kirk ignored his young lord, casting long glances at Mara as she picked at her food.
An afternoon spent in her arms had been more than enough to convince him that he could not, would not, live without her whether or not she agreed to his marriage proposal.
He made feeble attempts to catch her attention, clearing his throat or banging his spoon.
But she deliberately ignored him, pretending not to hear his overtures.
He had to grin at her, stubborn little wench. The harder he tried, the more she ignored him. Just when he was about to throw a piece of bread at her, Johanne broke from her conversation with Edmund and focused on pale, subdued Micheline.
“I thought you would like to know that wedding arrangements have been made,” she said, mockingly-sweet. “The priest will arrive on the morrow from Crosby and you and my brother shall be wed.”
Micheline’s cheeks flushed. “I… I thank you for making the arrangements, my lady,” she said politely. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you.”
Johanne smiled thinly. “Not at all. A simple missive sent to the priest was the only undertaking. I would expect that by noon will see you and my brother as husband and wife.”
Micheline nodded submissively, though the entire idea shocked and sickened her. So soon. “If I may be of any assistance to you in the final preparations, please let me know. I should be happy to help.”