Page 107 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

“But if ye hadn’t remembered the transfusion…I would nae have thought of it until it was tae late. We would have lost her, Val.” The deep guilt reverberating in Wills’s voice made Valeran shake his head in disagreement.

“If anyone’s to blame, I am. I should never have let her come to the abbey. We should have stayed in London,” he rasped, closing his eyes. “And when she left the salon…she was furious with me. She stormed upstairs and a minute later…”

“Will ye…eejits nae…stop fretting? I cannae…rest with…all your blethering.”

The barely audible words made both Valeran and Wills jump. Wills immediately reached for his pocket watch, and for a second time he lifted Amalie’s hand, his forefinger pressing into her wrist. Valeran leaned over her, tracing a gentle path across her brow.

“Mouse,” he choked out as joy expanded his heart until he thought it would burst. “Mouse, I thought I’d lost—”

“Haud yer wheesht…Sommer…ville. I need…rest.”

Valeran did as she ordered, and his fingers brushed aside the matted hair at her temple, before he pressed his lips to her skin. She was warm against his mouth, and he trembled as his hand held hers. His wife’s hand gave his a gentle squeeze, before a quiet sigh parted her lips, and in seconds, she was asleep.

d d d

Valeran smiled with happiness as he heard Amalie’s laughter echoing out of their bedroom. It had been more than a month since his wife had delivered their son, and he offered up a daily prayer of gratitude that she was still with him. They’d spent all of January at Callendar Abbey with Amalie confined to her bed.

Yesterday, Wills had extended her confinement until next week. She’d pleaded with her cousin to let her go home, but before the young doctor could open his mouth, Valeran had roared an emphatic no. His response was so harsh, Amalie had immediately ended her protesting.

Despite Will’s orders, only two weeks into her convalescence, Valeran had caught Amalie out of bed trying to walk around her room. When he’d angrily pointed out how close she’d come to dying, his wife had immediately become contrite and returned to bed. But she was continuously disobeying orders to stay in bed.

Quickening his stride, Valeran reached their bedroom doorway and stared in horror at the gray outline of Amalie’s beautiful plump curves as she walked back and forth beside the bed. Their son in her arms, her head was bent over the child as she cooed and laughed at the tiny hand clinging to her finger.

“Goddamnit, Amalie.”

His sharp voice startled her, and she stumbled slightly as she turned to face him. Racing forward, he steadied her, then guided her to the bed before taking their son from her as she slid beneath the covers.

“Dinnae scare me like that, ye eejit. I could have fallen, or worse, dropped the baby.” The annoyance in her voice tugged a growl of anger out of him.

“And there wouldn’t be the slightest chance of such a thing happening, if my wife would stay in bed.”

“Oh Valeran. I’m almost completely—”

“Wills has made it perfectly clear you’re not allowed out of bed for another week,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman. What would William and I do if something happened to you. We need someone to keep us on our toes.”

Valeran sank down onto the bed and looked down at the small gray shape he held against his chest. His fingers gently explored the face of their son, a small smile tipping the corners of his mouth.

“He has my hair, doesn’t he?”

“His hair isn’t—”

“Black? No, I know that,” he said with a grin, remembering Amalie’s irritation that William had brown hair like hers. Valeran slid his hand through the full head of hair on top of his son’s head. “But you always tell me how soft and silky mine is. His hair feels just like that.”

Amalie drew in a breath that was a soft, throaty sound. Startled, Valeran lifted his head and saw her brushing her fingers across her cheeks. Alarmed, he quickly put his son in the bassinet close to the bed, then returned to Amalie’s side and pulled her into his embrace.

“Don’t cry, mouse. You and William are here with me, safe and sound.” A sniffle drifted out of her as she reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. Blowing her nose, she pulled away from him slightly, then tipped her head at an angle he recognized as a glare of irritation.

“I am nae crying for me, ye daft mon. I’m crying because ye won’t ever be able tae see how beautiful he is. And he is beautiful, cat.” The tears in her voice made Valeran pull her closer, silently offering his shoulder for her to weep on.

“It’s all right, sweetheart. You know I don’t need to actually see your face to know you. William will be the same way.”

She burrowed herself into his side and wrapped her arms around him, but she didn’t cry. While what Amalie said was true, surprisingly, it didn’t bother him. Valeran was simply grateful his wife was in his arms, with their son lying quietly in his cradle.

Content to hold her without speaking, Valeran reclined against the headboard, pulling her with him. Silence filled the air around them, and it was as warm and comfortable as a pair of old slippers. Eyelids drooping, he was on the verge of dozing off, when Amalie suddenly retreated from him again and sat up straight. Startled, he opened his eyes, arching an eyebrow in curiosity .

“Ye were nae lying tae me the night William was born, were ye?” The question caught him off guard. Frowning with puzzlement, he shook his head.

“Lying about what, mouse?