Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,45
arriving without an invitation.”
Hardane nodded. For the moment, he seemed incapable of speech as he glanced from Kylene to Selene and back again, wondering if he had imagined the dark pall that had seemed to engulf Kylene when she embraced her sister. Her twin sister. For some inexplicable reason, his shade had been received by the wrong woman.
“You’re welcome here, of course,” Lord Kray said, frowning at his son’s rudeness. “Tell me, where is your father?”
Selene squeezed a tear from her eye. “He has passed on, milord. I came here unbidden as I had nowhere else to go.”
“I’m sorry,” Lord Kray replied. “Carrick of Mouldour was an honorable man. In another time and place, we might have been friends.”
Hardane leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied the woman who was destined to be his bride. “How is it that you and your sister were separated?”
“I hesitate to say, since it makes my father sound quite cruel, but he decided that since I was the eldest, and betrothed to wed into the House of Argone, he would send Kylene to live with the Sisterhood. By so doing, he could enlarge my dowry.”
Selene glanced at Kylene, hoping to see the effect of her words, but Kylene’s face remained expressionless.
Hardane nodded. It was a common practice for the second sons of the Mouldourian nobility to be given to the church, since they had little hope of inheriting their father’s lands. He had not been aware that the custom pertained to women, as well.
Selene smiled benignly. “I am glad to see you again at last, sister. Our father spoke of you often.” Too often, she thought bitterly. But all that was over now. She would soon have everything she deserved.
“I am surprised to meet you,” Kylene said, her voice curiously flat. “How did our father die?”
“Of a fever. We have been in hiding for quite some time, trying to elude Bourke’s men. It was Father’s hope to regain his throne, but it was not to be. The Lord High Interrogator executed all those who tried to come to our aid, until our people feared to help us.”
Kylene shivered at the mention of the Interrogator. She could well imagine his evil influence striking terror into the hearts of any who opposed him. It occurred to her suddenly that Bourke was her uncle, that her father was dead, that her sister, a sister she had no memory of, was the woman who was rightfully betrothed to Hardane. She felt a curious emptiness inside, a disappointment that she could summon no sense of love or affection for the woman who was her kin, only soul-shattering envy.
Kylene stood abruptly, her legs trembling. “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Kray, I should like to go to my room. I’m sure Lord Hardane and my sister have much to discuss, and I . . . I . . .” She sent a pleading glance at Lord Kray. “Milord?”
His eyes were kind as he said, “You have my leave to retire, Lady Kylene.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, and hurried from the dining hall. Only when she reached the safety of her own room did she let the tears fall.
Chapter 21
For Hardane, the rest of the day passed in a blur, as if he were seeing it all through a layer of gauze. Selene was given a chance to refresh herself and then, clad in a clean gown of rose-colored silk, she joined the family in the informal sitting room.
Now, two hours after Selene’s arrival, Hardane sat beside the fireplace, listening impassively as his mother and Selene talked of the coming wedding. Lord Kray managed to sneak in a few questions about Carrick, about Bourke, about current conditions in Mouldour. Of her own accord, Selene spoke little of her father, his death, or the hardships they had endured since Bourke assumed the throne. She answered Kray’s questions, but that was all.
Hardane felt an emptiness inside, a sense that Fate had taken control of his life. His betrothed was seated across from him, the very image of the woman he loved, but he felt nothing for her. Her hair was the same color as Kylene’s, yet the red seemed to lack the fire that blazed in Kylene’s tresses. Her eyes were the same shade of brown, yet Kylene’s were as warm as sun-kissed earth, and Selene’s seemed as cold as frozen ground. When she smiled at him, he felt nothing. How was he to bed her, to breed her, when he felt no warmth,