Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,47
service to others no longer had the power to soothe her.
Glancing outside, she was surprised to see that night had fallen. When Hadj came to the door to tell her dinner was ready, Kylene pleaded a headache and begged to be excused.
Returning to her bed, she closed her eyes and sought to calm her troubled spirit by thinking of the vows she had made at the Motherhouse in Mouldour. But she no longer wanted to live a life of poverty, chastity, and obedience. She wanted to be Hardane’s wife, to spend her nights in his arms, to spend her days surrounded by their children. How could she hope to lock herself behind high stone walls when her heart would ever be here, in Argone?
Soft clouds scudded across the sky as she made her way out of the castle into the welcome darkness of evening. The air was fragrant with the scent of night-blooming flowers, the grass damp beneath her bare feet as she walked to the small lake behind the castle and sat down on the stone bench. It was peaceful here, quiet. She stared at her reflection in the still water, gasped as a man suddenly appeared behind her.
“Hardane.”
There was a world of longing, of sadness, in her voice.
“Lady.” His hands caressed her shoulders, his thumbs lightly massaging the sensitive skin along her nape.
Ah, she thought, the magic in his touch. She tilted her head back and he bent forward to kiss her, his mouth covering hers. Somehow, he was on the bench beside her and she was in his arms. Her lips parted under his and she moaned softly as the latent fires between them burst into glorious flame.
He groaned her name, his hands moving restlessly over her back, and she pressed herself to him, wanting to be closer still.
And then, somehow, she was standing beside the lake, watching, and it was Selene in Hardane’s arms, Selene’s name that rumbled in his throat, Selene’s hands twined in his hair.
“No!” She screamed the word, the sense of hurt and betrayal sharper than a dagger in her breast.
“No!” She cried the word again, and woke with the sound of her own voice echoing in her ears.
It had only been a dream, she thought, and then she frowned. Perhaps it hadn’t been a dream, at all, but a vision of what was to come.
Rising, she bathed and changed her gown and then, reluctantly, made her way downstairs toward the dining hall. She heard a babble of excited voices as she approached the room, stared in wonder at the gathering that met her eyes.
Besides Hardane and Lord Kray, there were six men in the room, all talking and gesturing at once, their voices echoing off the walls like thunder.
Sharilyn sat at the foot of the long trestle table, her eyes glowing as she gazed at each man.
They could only be Hardane’s brothers, Kylene thought. All had the same long black hair, the same tawny skin. But none were quite as tall, quite as handsome. And none had his eyes.
Hardane saw her then, his face lighting with a smile that was hers alone. “Kylene,” he said, his voice warm with affection, “come and meet my brothers.”
Feeling like a dwarf among giants, she crossed the room to Hardane’s side.
“This is my oldest brother, Dubrey. The twins, Dirk and Garth, Morray, Liam, and Dace.”
Kylene nodded to each one in turn, noting that they all had dark eyes, wondering how a woman as slightly built as Sharilyn had produced such a brood of strapping young men.
“And who,” Dubrey asked with a wink at Hardane, “might this be?”
“This is Kylene.”
Dirk and Garth exchanged knowing grins. “Kylene,” they said together. “So, she is not your betrothed.”
“No.”
Dubrey stepped forward and took Kylene’s hand. “I’m happy to meet you, my lady. Might I interest you in a walk through the gardens later?”
“Excuse me,” Dace said, shoving his elder brother aside. “Might I interest you in a ride across the south meadow?”
Kylene glanced from one to the other, flustered by their attention, by the admiration in their eyes.
“Perhaps you’d sit with me at table this morning,” Morray asked, sidling up beside her.
“That’s enough,” Hardane said irritably. Taking Kylene’s arm, he drew her away from the others and ushered her toward the table, where he held her chair as she sat, then sat down beside her.
“Hadj!” he roared.
Moments later, the serving girl entered the room bearing a tray filled with hot honey bread and fruit.