Al bent over her. And he saw the bright evening star reflected in her eyes, and he saw the black cloud reflected in her eyes.

And once he had got really drunk on wine, Then he would speak no language but Latin.

I don’t bed with children.’  ‘Rumour says,’ said Catherine d’Albon, ‘that you did. Or are the Knights of St John all mistaken?’  ‘You know too much,’ said Francis Crawford slowly. ‘Shall I amend it? I don’t bed with young girls who are virgins, unless they ask me, and unless I am married to them.

She didn't love him and he didn't love her; she was like an addiction, and what they were doing had a darkness to it, a weight.

Written By Kim Edwards

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