Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,24

to brush a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You needn’t weep for them,” he said, his voice low and husky. “They’re quite happy.”

“You’ve seen them?”

Hardane nodded. “Often, on cold winter evenings when the moon is full and the night is quiet.”

“Is it another of your gifts, to be able to see ghosts?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps it’s only because I believe.”

He bent toward her, his face filling her gaze, his scent surrounding her. “What do you believe, lady?”

“I . . . what do you mean?”

“Do you believe in the Sisterhood? Do you truly wish to take your final vows, to lock yourself behind cold stone walls, to grow old there, alone and unloved?”

“You have no right to ask me such questions.”

“I saved your life,” he reminded her quietly. “I have every right.”

“I gave my word to abide by their rules. I’ll take my final vows when I return.”

“If you return.”

“When I return,” she said firmly, and knew a sudden need to return to the safety of the Motherhouse, to be away from dark, probing eyes and a voice that ensnared her like a silken web, urging her to turn her back on all that she was, all that she had promised to be.

Hardane looked deep into her eyes for a full minute and then, with a muttered oath, he stood up and walked away, away from tantalizing rose pink lips and golden brown eyes that silently begged for his touch even though her words pushed him away.

Kylene watched him go, aware of a sudden emptiness that seemed to creep into every part of her heart and soul. She had to find her way back to Mouldour, she thought desperately; she had to get away from this man who played havoc with her heart. Once she returned to the Motherhouse, she would find the security she had once known, the inner peace she craved. She didn’t want to be tormented by dreams of strong brown arms and stormy gray eyes. She wanted only to be left alone to pray and serve others. Didn’t she?

For a long while, she sat on the boulder, gazing at the waterfall as it rushed down the mountainside, wondering at the woman who had loved a man so much that she had joined him in a watery grave rather than live without him. Such devotion was foreign to her. The only love she knew was the love of the Sisterhood, her love for Him who was the Father of All. She had no knowledge of the kind of love shared between a man and a woman. Indeed, she had never given much thought to carnal love until Hardane walked into her dreams.

Hardane. He was so handsome, so brave and strong. Surely he had known many beautiful women. She saw the way the maids at the castle looked at him, their eyes wide with admiration and adoration, the way they hurried to do his bidding, vying for his attention. No doubt women were constantly throwing themselves at his feet, yearning for his touch . . .

She heard the sound of his footsteps behind her, felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment because she had been thinking of him.

She glanced over her shoulder to see him standing behind her, a large basket over his arm.

“Perhaps we should eat now,” he suggested.

His voice, rich and deep, made her skin prickle.

“I . . . yes,” she stammered, “perhaps we should.”

“Do you want to eat here, or over there in the shade?”

“In the shade, please.”

With a curt nod, he spread a blanket under the leafy canopy and began to empty the basket.

Feeling somewhat ill at ease, Kylene sat down beside him, accepting the plate he offered her. Nan had sent along a veritable feast: sliced venison, biscuits, a loaf of brown bread, a variety of fruit, tea cakes, and ale.

Kylene ate slowly, ever aware of Hardane’s nearness. It was an uncomfortable meal. Try as she might, she could think of nothing to say to break the awkward silence between them. She wondered if he was having the same trouble, or if his lack of conversation meant he was angry with her.

Once, glancing up, she caught him watching her, a bemused expression in his eyes. She looked away quickly, but not before she felt the heat of his gaze, the spark of desire that seemed always to vibrate between them.

Later, sated and drowsy, she curled up on the blanket and closed her eyes. The sound of winged insects and the distant song of a