Page 16 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Accepting the man’s invitation to dance two reels was a mistake she regretted. But she’d seen Valeran turn her head toward her the moment he’d heard Melham’s voice. Frantic to avoid speaking with him, she’d agreed to dance with the merchant.

Worse, Amalie had seen the satisfied looks on the faces of all her aunts. Aunt Matilda had even appeared to be gloating. But it had been Lady Patience’s expression Amalie had found troubling. Her mother’s surprise and speculation made her wonder if dancing with Mr. Melham had made her mother question Amalie’s recent decision not to marry.

Scowling at the mirror, she lambasted herself for telling her father several months ago she had no desire to marry. Amalie winced at the memory of her father’s amazement and concern that she intended to spend the rest of her life at Crianlarich Castle. It hadn’t taken long for the Scotsman to share Amalie’s confession with her mother. In weeks, the entire family had learned of her decision, including her cousins.

Everyone had pressured her for a reason, except her mother and Jamie. The two of them had accepted her refusal to discuss the matter. Amalie knew everyone wanted to understand the reason for her decision, but she couldn’t explain something she didn’t understand herself.

You know the reason, Amalie Rockwood. You simply don’t want to admit it.

She quickly rejected the mocking laughter in her head. Valeran was not the reason for her decision. It had only been recently that she’d realized she’d never find a man who would love her as deeply as her father loved her mother.

A knock on her door made her invite her visitor in. In the mirror, Amalie saw Lady Patience enter and close the door behind her. The worried frown on her mother’s face made Amalie look away. With a soft sound of concern, Lady Patience quickly crossed the room to join her on the dressing table’s wide bench. When seated, her mother wrapped a loving arm around her. As Lady Patience pulled her close, she smiled sympathetically at Amalie in the mirror.

“This week has been difficult for you, hasn’t it mo nighean ghaisgeil?” The moment the Gaelic words for my brave daughter passed her mother’s lips, Amalie winced.

“I’m a coward for letting it overwhelm me.” Head bowed, she closed her eyes in regret. As a Rockwood, she should show more grit when it came to the tension and discomfort she experienced while in a crowded room.

“You are no such thing, Amalie Rockwood. The entire family has seen what a struggle it’s been for you not to flinch from all the noise this past week.”

Lady Patience admonished her with a hint of loving exasperation. A second later, gentle fingers forced Amalie’s chin up so her mother could see her face in the mirror.

“We’ve all seen it, and everyone is proud of the way you’ve hidden it so well from the guests. It is a testimony to the Rockwood determination to rise to any challenge we face.”

Amalie’s shoulders stiffened at her mother’s words. She didn’t enjoy knowing her attempt to hide her discomfort from her family had failed. Eyeing her mother with her normal stoicism, Amalie arched one eyebrow.

“I hope you told everyone I was fine.”

“I did, but several in the family have noted your mood seems bleaker than usual. Your Aunt Matilda and Aunt Louisa are convinced you’re in love with someone who doesn’t have feelings for you. They believe it’s why you’ve decided never to marry.”

“What?” Amalie stared at her mother in horror. “I’m not in love with anyone.”

“They specifically pointed out your avoidance of every bachelor Aunt Matilda invited this entire week.”

Her mother’s reply eased some of the tension in Amalie’s body. The idea she was in love was ridiculous. There wasn’t a man in the house who even came close to standing shoulder to shoulder with her father, let alone her uncles.

Liar.

The tendril of thought whispered its way into the forefront of her mind to tangle with her denials. Meeting Lady Patience’s steady gaze in the mirror, she saw the Mistress of Crianlarich’s eyebrows arched in skepticism. Instantly, tension tightened Amalie’s muscles.

“I know that look, Mother. What aren’t you telling me?” At her combative tone, Lady Patience’s eyebrows arched higher.

“While others commented on your morose manner, Jamie and I noticed something else. There is one man in particular you avoided more than others this week.”

“Is it any wonder I avoided Mr. Melham?” she said quickly, fear slithering down her back. “He’s kind, but exceedingly boring. You’ve even said his conversations are monotonous.”

Lady Patience narrowed her eyes at Amalie’s reflection in the mirror. Alarm rose and crested inside her. Merciful heaven, had someone other than her mother seen her watching and wishing she’d been dancing with Valeran, not Mr. Melham? Mouth dry with fear, she tried to control the way her stomach roiled with a nauseating apprehension. Even without a mirror, her icy cheeks would have told Amalie how pale she was.

She forced a laugh of cynical amusement past her lips in an effort to hide her alarm from her mother. With trembling fingers, she quickly picked up her hairbrush. In the mirror, she saw her mother glance at Amalie’s shaky hands, then back up to meet her gaze. The insightful gleam in Lady Patience’s brown eyes made her begin to drag her brush through her hair with hard, vicious strokes.

“I wasn’t referring to Mr. Melham,” her mother said softly.

Amalie’s heart sank as her brush stopped before it reached her shoulder. Panic crested inside her. The Mistress of Crianlarich meant Valeran. She shook her head in denial. The Earl of Sommerville had nothing to do with her decision never to marry.

You know that’s a lie, Amalie Rockwood. You simply don’t want to admit the truth.

Amalie rejected the mocking laughter in her head. Her decision to remain a spinster had been based on her conviction she’d never find a man who would love her as deeply as her father loved her mother. Even her aunts and uncles had marriages rich with love and adoration.

While she’d not shared her reasons with anyone, her mother had only questioned her decision one time. When she’d refused to answer, the Mistress of Crianlarich had not spoken of it again. Was that about to change? Lady Patience gently pulled the brush out of Amalie’s hand and began brushing her hair as she’d often done when Amalie had been a child.