Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,102

or another. She’d never realized how much time and effort went into the running of a country.

Under other circumstances, she might have resented the many hours he spent away from her. But not now. She was hurt and angry because he was determined to avenge his father’s death no matter what the cost.

For the first time, she was glad that she had a room of her own where she could hide and lick her wounds.

How could he be so uncaring of her feelings? How could he even consider doing something that would put his life in jeopardy when he would soon be a father? Was shedding the blood of the Interrogator more important than being there for his sons?

And what would she do if he were killed? Argone was not her home. Much as she loved Sharilyn, as much as she adored Hardane’s brothers, she had no desire to remain in Argone without Hardane. In spite of everything, Mouldour was her home.

She spent long hours with her father, expecting him to console her, to take her side. Instead, Carrick urged her to be forgiving, to try to see things from Hardane’s point of view. His father had been killed. His mother had been held captive. Hardane, himself, had been imprisoned and badly abused. Even Kylene had felt the wrath of the Interrogator. Did she truly expect her husband, a man born and raised to be a warrior, to ignore such treachery?

“Yes!” Kylene had exclaimed. “I should mean more to him than revenge.”

“He’s a man, daughter,” Carrick had replied quietly. “A man of courage and honor. He must do what he thinks is right.”

Right! Kylene had stamped her foot, too angry for words. What difference did it make if avenging Lord Kray was the right thing to do if it cost Hardane his life?

She had sought out Dubrey, certain he would take her side, certain that he could make Hardane understand how she felt, that Dubrey would speak to Hardane and make him see things her way.

But Dubrey had agreed with Carrick. And so had Hardane’s other brothers. Every one of them.

Most shocking of all was the fact that Sharilyn also thought Hardane was in the right. And that bewildered Kylene. How could Hardane’s mother even think of letting Hardane go off to Mouldour to avenge Kray’s death? Sharilyn had just lost her husband. Did the possibility of losing a son mean nothing? Did the Wolffan put vengeance above everything else?

Now, sitting in the window seat of her chamber, Kylene rubbed her temples in an effort to ease the throbbing in her head. She was lonely and unhappy. She wanted to be in Hardane’s arms, to feel his strength, to bask in his love, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to him. And he wouldn’t come to her. Not after the way she’d behaved the night of the funeral.

Night after night, she’d gone to her lonely bed only to lie awake, staring into the darkness, wondering how she could miss him so much when he’d lied to her. Knowing he had no intention of keeping his word, he’d promised he wouldn’t seek revenge, and then he’d broken his pledge and vowed to avenge his father’s death.

Hadn’t he? She tried to remember what he’d said when she’d begged him not to go after Renick. Slowly, the words he’d spoken came back to her.

Lady, he’d said, you don’t know what you ask. He’d never promised her anything, she realized. She’d only heard what she wanted to hear. The realization had filled her with a deep sense of shame and an ever-growing need to apologize.

Knowing he could read her thoughts, she had silently begged him to come to her. Each time she heard his footsteps in the adjoining chamber, she had hoped he would open the connecting door, that he would sweep her into his arms and beg her forgiveness, that he would forget his blood vow and put aside his need for vengeance.

And night after night, the door between his bedchamber and hers remained closed.

And her arms remained empty.

One night she had tried to walk in his thoughts, but his mind had been closed to her, as solid as the door that shut her from his presence.

With a sigh, Kylene wrapped her arms around her belly, now burgeoning with new life. Closing her eyes, she let the tears fall, weeping with regret for the harsh words she had spoken in haste and in anger, crying because she was lonely and unhappy, because