The Darkland (5 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

It was difficult to
describe the smell of their lovemaking; somewhere between animal fat and a
rotting corpse. When the heavy breathing subsided and the sweat cooled, it
always smelled the same. It was a foul stench, emitting from the foul depths of
their warped relationship.

 A woman stood by one of
three lancet windows offering weak illumination into the richly-appointed
chamber. The heavy oilcloth was pulled back, a cool breeze caressing her naked
body as her lover languished on the massive bed behind her.

"They've finally
arrived," she said faintly. Perhaps a bit ominously.

The man on the damp,
dirty sheets stirred a bit, eventually rising. He went to stand beside the
woman, their gazes lingering on the activity in the bailey below.

"They are
late," the man said, turning away in search of his clothes.

The lady remained
focused on the scene, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman she knew to be in
the party. A woman she hadn't yet decided to love or hate.

"This marriage, Edmund."
She turned from the bright day, watching the man secure his hose. "You
promised me that it would be in name only. Isn't that what you said, dear
brother?"

He nodded, scratching
his scalp before collecting his fine tunic. "Father accepted the pledge on
behalf of a gambling debt, darling. I had no choice but to agree and well you
know it."

The woman's naked body
crossed the floor, a thin woman with tiny breasts. Even as her brother put his
tunic on, she rubbed against him like a cat in heat. "You must consummate
the marriage."

"I am bound
to." He collected his gold-link belt. "For breeding purposes, of
course. Once she's pregnant, I shall forget I even have a wife."

The woman smiled,
rubbing her Venus Mound on his thigh and leaving a damp streak. "And
return to me, where you belong," she purred. "Into the arms of your
beloved Johanne."

Edmund raised an eyebrow
at his younger sister. The sister he had acquired when his father had married
the wealthy widow Seymour those years ago, but his sister nonetheless. Blood or
marriage was of little difference to him. "You would not be my beloved Johanne
if Kirk were to show interest in you," he said, slapping her on the
buttocks. When she yelped and moved away, he sat on the mattress to put on his
boots. "He is the man of your dreams; not me."

She continued to smile
at him, rubbing her bum where he had smacked her. "'Tis you who loves me
best, Edmund. You always have. Teaching me the ways of men and woman so my
flesh would not be polluted by the touch of an outsider. When Kirk finally
comes to his senses, he'll be pleased with the skills you have taught me. Won't
he, Edmund? Just like you said?"

Last boot in place, Edmund
de Cleveley, Baron Bowland, rose from the bed and fixed his step-sister in the
eye. "He shall be pleased. As pleased as I have been since you were eleven
years old."

Johanne's smile
broadened, rubbing herself against the canopy post and imagining it was Kirk.
"And what of your new wife, Edmund? Will she be as pleasurable as
me?"

"I am sure not.
She's a virgin; it's guaranteed in the marriage contract. Silly, useless
wench."

Johanne's smile faded,
her unbalanced mind evident in the dull green eyes.  "Can I wish her away
if she displeases us both?"

"And how would she
do that?"

"By disapproving of
our relationship, of course. If she cannot be made to understand, might I wish
her away like I have the others?"

Edmund paused by the
door, studying the woman he couldn't seem to be without. It wasn't as if he
loved her; but, truly, he had never been without her. The need to have her, to
dominate her, had always been a part of his psyche. To do without her would be
like relinquishing a limb; so very necessary if he wanted to remain in control.

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. Beautiful 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.