Beneath a Midnight Moon (8 page)
Read Beneath a Midnight Moon Online
Authors: Amanda Ashley
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 bird lulled her to sleep.
And he was there, walking through the corridors of her mind, his gray eyes warm with desire. Murmuring her name, he took her into his arms and kissed her, gently at first, and then with a spiraling intensity that left her breathless.
Be mine, lady,
he coaxed.
Admit that you’re Carrick’s daughter, and let us be wed in the seventh month, as planned.
he coaxed.
Admit that you’re Carrick’s daughter, and let us be wed in the seventh month, as planned.
She gazed into his eyes, wishing she could say the words he longed to hear, wishing that she were, indeed, his betrothed. Here, in his arms, with her heart pounding and her blood racing, she put all her lies behind her and knew that it wasn’t the peace and security of the Motherhouse she wanted, but the love of the man who held her in his arms. For an instant of time, she considered lying to him, considered telling him that she was indeed Carrick’s seventh daughter.
I can’t wait until the time of ripe fruits,
she wanted to cry.
Marry me today. Now. This minute.
But the words would not come. She could not lie to him. Much as she wished it, she could not pretend to be someone she was not.
she wanted to cry.
Marry me today. Now. This minute.
But the words would not come. She could not lie to him. Much as she wished it, she could not pretend to be someone she was not.
He drew her close, crushing her breasts against the solid wall of his chest, letting her feel the heat of his desire. With a wordless cry of pain, she pressed her lips to his, the ache of needing him bringing tears to her eyes.
Do not cry, lady, all will be well.
“Do not cry, lady.”
His voice penetrated her dream, and she opened her eyes to see Hardane stretched out beside her, so close that his breath fanned her face.
For a timeless moment, they gazed into each other’s eyes, and then his hand slid around the back of her neck and his mouth closed over hers.
It was a gentle kiss, as light as thistledown, and yet the wonder of it, the beauty of it, suffused her from head to foot, making her heart pound and her blood sing a new song.
She felt bereft when he took his lips from hers. In her mind she heard the echo of his words:
Be mine, lady. Be mine, be mine . . .
Be mine, lady. Be mine, be mine . . .
It was tempting, so tempting. But she wasn’t a princess and she couldn’t say she was. As much as she yearned to belong to Hardane, she could not live a lie, could not spend the rest of her life pretending to be Selene, no matter how tempting the thought might be. And, sooner or later, he would discover the lie and she would be exposed as a fraud. It was a humiliation she could not begin to imagine.
Aware of his gaze, his disappointment, she stood up, her fingers worrying the folds of her skirt. “I wish to go back now.”
He rose lithely to his feet, his gaze never leaving her face. “As you please, lady.”
Moments later, he lifted her onto the back of her horse. For a long moment, he remained at her side, his eyes searching hers, and then he turned away.
As they rode back to the castle, Kylene had the feeling that she had lost something precious though it was never meant to be hers.
Chapter 14
Hardane stared at Jared, a frown creasing his brow. “What are we doing here?”
A hint of mischief danced in Jared’s brown eyes. “It’s what you need, my friend.”
Hardane sent a dubious glance at the pleasure palace. It was a large square building made of dark stone. There were no windows, only narrow slits that admitted a minimum of light during the day. A narrow iron door was the only entrance.
He let out a quick breath. He had never been inside such a place, though he had heard tales of what went on inside. Anything a man desired could be his for the right price. Women of all sizes and shapes, all colors and ages. The finest ale, the softest beds, the most willing courtesans in all of Argone.
“It’s what you need,” Jared said again. “I know, I know, you promised your mother to live like a monk until you wed, but you’re not a monk, my friend. You’re a man, with a man’s needs, a man’s desires, and it’s time you had a woman.”
Hardane stood there for a long moment, torn between the need to relieve his sexual frustration and his determination to keep the promise he’d made to his mother. But his mother was not a man. She couldn’t know how painful it was for him, wanting a woman, needing a woman. Until Kylene entered his life, he’d been able to keep his sexual tension under control by constantly keeping busy, by training for battle, by working such long hours during the day that he went to bed utterly exhausted.
But now, no matter how hard he worked, how tired he was when he sought his bedchamber, there was no respite from the hunger that plagued him. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to give his body the release it needed just this once.
“Well?” Jared looked up at Hardane, his fists resting on his hips. “Are you ready to be a man?”
“Yes.”
A broad smile played over Jared’s lips as he opened the iron door and ushered Hardane inside. He felt no guilt at urging Hardane to break the promise made to Sharilyn. He understood Sharilyn’s reasoning, but he also felt a strong loyalty to Hardane and it grieved him to see his friend hurting when there was no need for it. Sometimes a man needed a woman, any woman.
Hardane noticed the smell first. The heavy mixture of perfume and powder and the faintly pungent scent of incense. A tall, yellow-haired woman came forward to meet them, her lithe body enveloped in a gossamer gown of purple silk.
“Jared,” she purred, extending a slender hand. “How good to see you again.” She saw Hardane then, recognition and surprise flickering in her eyes.
Before she could speak Hardane’s name and thus draw attention to the future ruler of Argone, Jared said, “Susna, this is my friend, Brayce. He’s visiting from Chadray.”
“I see,” Susna murmured, a knowing smile playing over her lips as she realized she would be well paid to keep Lord Hardane’s visit a secret. “Welcome, Brayce. I hope you’ll come back often.”
Hardane nodded, his senses reeling.
“What type of woman do you prefer?” Susna asked.
“He wants a redhead,” Jared replied. “About this tall, with brown eyes and pale skin. Young. Not too experienced.”
“I see.” Susna smiled at Hardane. “You’ll find what you’re looking for upstairs in room seven.” She glanced at Jared. “Mina is waiting for you.”
Jared slapped Hardane on the back. “Shall we?”
Heart pounding, Hardane followed Jared up the long staircase, then down a dark hall.
“This is it,” Jared said, stopping in front of a blue door. “Room seven. I’ll meet you downstairs in . . . an hour?”
Hardane nodded, then watched as Jared continued down the hall, stopping in front of a yellow door.
Glancing over his shoulder, Jared grinned at Hardane, then opened the door and stepped into the room.
Hardane took a deep breath. What was he doing here? He was about to turn away when the door opened and he found himself staring at one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her skin was like porcelain, her eyes a deep brown, her body ripe and firm. A curtain of red hair fell over her breasts and down her back, almost to the floor.
“Come in,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
When he hesitated, she took him by the hand and led him into the room, softly closing the door behind her.
His gaze darted around the room. It was blue—floor and walls and ceiling. There was a large mirror on one wall, a small chair and a table in the far corner. And a bed, the biggest bed he had ever seen, covered with a blue counterpane.
“Have you been here before?” the woman asked in the same sultry voice.
“No.”
She closed the distance between them, her hips swaying provocatively. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.” Her arms slid around his neck, her breasts pressing against his chest as her mouth covered his.
With a cry of desperation, Hardane put his arms around her and kissed her back. His nostrils filled with the scent of perfumed hair and the musky scent of a willing woman. Her skin was warm under his hands, her lips pliant, her body humming with readiness and desire.
And he felt nothing but disgust.
For the woman.
For himself.
With a low growl, he twisted out of her arms and backed away, his mind filling with Kylene’s image. He didn’t want to bed an experienced courtesan; he wanted to share Kylene’s sweet innocence, to savor her virginity as he lost his own.
The woman looked up at him, confused. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “I . . . I can’t.”
“Can’t?” Her gaze moved over him, coolly assessing his masculinity. “Is there something wrong with you?” she asked candidly.
The back of his neck felt suddenly hot and he flushed under her probing gaze.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she said. “Lots of men have . . . trouble. That’s why they come here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” he said curtly.
“Perhaps the fault lies with me. Perhaps I don’t please you?”
“You’re very beautiful, but . . .”
She smiled sagely. “But I’m not her?”
“No, you’re not.”
“She’s a lucky woman,” the courtesan murmured. “Perhaps, if things don’t work out between the two of you, you’ll come see me again.”
“Perhaps,” Hardane replied, but he knew it was a lie, and so did she.
Without another word, he left the woman’s room. In the hall, he drew a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Other men might find relief here, but he felt degraded, unclean.
Downstairs, he ordered a flagon of ale, then sat in a dark corner to wait for Jared, wondering how his friend could find pleasure in the arms of a woman who sold herself to any man who could pay the price.
He was half asleep when Jared entered the room, a grin stretching across his face.
“Well, aren’t you the quick one,” Jared remarked, slapping Hardane on the back. “Been waiting long?”
“No. Shall we go?”
“In a minute. How was she? Did she give you your money’s worth?”
“I learned what I needed to know,” Hardane replied ruefully, and wondered if he’d perform any better with Selene than he had with the woman in the blue room.
And if he didn’t, what then? What of the prophesy that foretold the birth of twin sons? How could he hope to produce an heir when his body refused to respond? Perhaps there was some flaw in his masculinity, perhaps he could only be aroused by a woman he couldn’t have . . . Kylene.
He cursed softly as he felt his manhood stir to life. He had only to think her name, he mused, and desire ran through him, as hot and swift as lava spewing from a volcano.
Kylene.
He hurried to his horse, Jared and the woman in the blue room forgotten in his haste to return home, to see her face, hear her voice.
He railed at the cruel hand of fate that had played him such a cruel trick, and then he forgot everything but the need to be with her, the woman who held his heart.
Kylene. The one woman who could never be his.
Chapter 15
Hardane left Jared to look after the horses and hurried into the keep, driven by an uncontrollable urge to see Kylene, to hear her voice. He needed the company of her sweet presence to banish the last vestiges of the pleasure palace that lingered like a bad dream in the back of his mind.
The castle had never seemed so huge as it did now as he walked through it room by room.
He found her in the small sala in the far reaches of the keep, a delicate piece of lace embroidery in her lap, a faraway look in her eyes as she gazed out the open door into the gardens beyond.
He stood inside the doorway, just watching her, for a long moment before he spoke her name.
Kylene’s heart fluttered with excitement at the sound of his voice. All day, she had been thinking of him, wondering where he had gone, when he would return. It baffled her, how eagerly she had awaited his return, how empty the hours seemed when he was not there. And mingled with that bewilderment was a strong sense of guilt because she spent so much time thinking of him, only him, when she should be examining her soul, seeking penance and forgiveness for her wayward thoughts.
She laid the needlework aside as he crossed the floor to stand beside her. She tilted her head back so she could see his face, mesmerized, as always, by his rugged good looks.
Hardane stared down at her, suddenly at a loss for words now that he’d found her. The sunlight streaming through the open door made her skin glow and cast golden highlights in her hair. But it was the look of welcome in her eyes that brought a smile to his lips.
He nodded toward the gardens. “Do you . . . would you care to take a walk?”
“Aye, my lord.”
He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet, pleased that she was a woman who knew her own mind, that she didn’t feel the need to be coy, or to play silly games.
Outside, they walked along the wide paths that wound in and out of the gardens. The flowers were in bloom and a rich sweet fragrance filled the air.
Kylene surveyed the gardens in wonder, captivated by the shrubs that had been cut and shaped to resemble animals—wild cats, horned leopards, snarling wolves . . .
She slid a glance at Hardane, remembering how he had appeared in one of her dreams in the shape of a wolf. He was remembering, too; she could see it in his eyes. But, more than that, she felt it in her thoughts. And then, to her surprise, the image of the black wolf appeared briefly in her mind.
Kylene came to a halt and stared up at him. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You know very well what. You were reading my mind. You planted the wolf’s image there.”
“Did I?”
“You know you did!” she exclaimed. “Didn’t you?”
“Aye, lady,” he admitted with a roguish grin. “I did. I sensed you had a fondness for the beast.”
Kylene lowered her gaze, embarrassed to recall how pleasurable the touch of the wolf’s tongue upon her palm had been.
“You can deny it all you wish,” Hardane mused, “but I know that you’re Carrick’s daughter, else you could not receive my thoughts, nor could I read yours.”
“If you can read my thoughts so easily, why can’t I read yours?”
“Have you tried?”
“Of course not,” she retorted. Her first reaction was horror at the mere idea, but then . . .
“Try,” Hardane urged.
She gazed into his eyes, those fathomless gray eyes, and tried to see what he was thinking. But all she could think of was how handsome he was, how much she wished that she was indeed the woman he thought her.
“You must concentrate on my thoughts,” Hardane remarked with a knowing grin, “not the color of my eyes.”
She flushed from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. “Stop that!”
“I’m sorry, but some thoughts are easier to read than others, especially those that concern me.”
“It’s . . . it’s indecent.”
“Indecent, lady?” he asked wryly.
“It makes me feel naked.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. Mortified at what she’d said, she stared up at him, waiting for him to make some ribald suggestion.
Instead, he took her hand in his and held it over his heart. “You need never hide your thoughts from me, Kylene. I will never betray you, or shame you.”
His gaze met hers, held it, and in that moment she knew that he desired her, heart and soul, and that he would never do anything to hurt her.
Overwhelmed with the depths of his desire, not knowing how to respond, she started walking again. He quickly fell into step beside her, shortening his long stride to match her shorter one.
They walked in silence for a long while, weaving through the garden paths until they came to a maze. Kylene hesitated a moment, and then continued on. In moments, she could see nothing but green on all sides.
“Why, lady?” Hardane asked at length. “Why do you continue to deny me?”
“Why, sir, do you continue to plague me? I’ve told you and told you, I’m not Lord Carrick’s daughter.”
She came to an abrupt halt and turned to face him. “Don’t you think I’d admit it if it were true? Even if I didn’t find you . . .”
“Attractive?” he supplied, stifling a smile.
“Attractive,” she admitted. “I’d be a fool to refuse all of this.” She made a broad gesture that encompassed the whole of the castle. “I’ve lived in poverty all my life. If it were up to me, I would gladly stay here. But it isn’t up to me. I have sworn fealty to the Sisterhood, and you’re betrothed to the Princess Selene. It’s your duty to wed her, just as it’s my duty to honor the vows I’ve made.”
Hardane felt a rush of admiration for the woman standing before him. She was honest. She was loyal. She would, he thought, have made a valiant knight.
He dismissed her protestations that she wasn’t Carrick’s daughter. Whether she denied it from fear or pretended ignorance, he knew it to be a lie. And yet, when he probed her mind, he found nothing to indicate she was other than she claimed to be, a foundling raised by the Mouldourian Sisterhood. Still, deep inside his own soul, he knew she was the woman destined to be his. And he would prove it. One way or another, he would prove it.
Kylene held Hardane’s gaze a moment more, and then she began walking again, conscious that he was there beside her.
A short time later, they reached the heart of the maze. “Oh,” Kylene exclaimed. “It’s beautiful.”
And yet beautiful didn’t begin to describe it. A crystal geyser bubbled from an underground spring. Huge lacy ferns and wondrous flowers grew in profuse abundance. A small stone bench was shaded by the leafy umbrella of an ancient willow tree. A golden shrub grew beside the spring. Cut in the shape of a unicorn, it seemed vibrant and alive.
It was like being in a different world, a magical world where dreams could come true, where the innermost desires of one’s heart might be granted.
Slowly, she turned around, not wanting to miss the smallest detail, until she came face-to-face with Hardane.
For a timeless moment, they gazed at each other.
And then, wordlessly, helplessly, he held out his arms.
And she, willingly, eagerly, stepped into his embrace, lifting her face for his kiss.
He lowered his head, blocking the sun, the sky, until there was nothing in all the world but the man bending over her. With infinite tenderness, his lips claimed hers. Feather-light, no more than the merest whisper of his mouth on hers, yet the heat of his touch engulfed her like a living flame, consuming every thought, every emotion.
Unaccountably, the image of a black-haired, gray-eyed wolf padded quietly down the corridors of her mind, and she felt the palm of her hand tingle, felt a rush of pleasure that was as warm and sweet as the finest Mouldourian wine.
Too soon, he took his mouth from hers, and yet, in that one brief instant, Kylene knew her whole world had been changed forever.
With a sigh, Hardane let her go.
With a sigh, Kylene took a step backward.
And yet his arms still felt the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin.
Her lips still tingled with his touch, his taste.
For the first time, he wondered if it might be possible to break his betrothal if Kylene proved to be a commoner, as she claimed.
For the first time, she wondered if she had truly been called to the Sisterhood.
Because he had to touch her again, Hardane reached for her hand, his fingers curling lightly around hers.
“We should go back,” he said reluctantly.
“Yes.”
His gaze moved over her face, resting briefly on her lips. “Kylene . . .”
She smiled up at him, knowing that everything she was feeling was reflected in her eyes. “My lord?”
Slowly, he shook his head. “Nothing, lady. I wanted only to say your name.”
His words pleased her beyond measure, making her heart swell with an emotion she had never before known.
A pleasant warmth filled her as they left the maze, walking in companionable silence back to the castle. She very carefully stored the memory of his kiss, the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes, into a corner of her mind. No matter what the future held, no matter if she spent the rest of her life in a tiny cell within the confines of the Motherhouse, she would always have the memory of this day to keep her warm.
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