Page 17 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Silence fell between them, and her mother’s brow was furrowed in concentration as she gently pulled the hairbrush through Amalie’s hair in one stroke after another. It had a calming effect on her, but she knew her mother wasn’t done with their conversation. After several minutes, the Mistress of Crianlarich laid the brush down on the dressing table.

Fingers tapping out a soft drumbeat against the table surface, the Mistress of Crianlarich’s gaze was watchful as she studied Amalie in the mirror. When Amalie shook her head in silent denial, her mother sighed.

“Amalie, for the past two years, I’ve seen you go to great lengths to walk the other way when Val is anywhere near you. Jamie has noticed it, too.” The quiet words made Amalie flinch.

“Dear God, does everyone know?” she choked out in a horrified whisper, and her mother quickly caught Amalie’s hand and squeezed it.

“No, just Jamie and me. What we don’t understand—”

“Then what does it matter if I’ve avoided the man?”

“Because Jamie believes the an dara sealladh showed you something about Val the night you met. A vision so frightening you’ve stayed as far away from him as you could.” Worry creased Lady Patience’s brow slightly. “Then this afternoon. Jamie said you and Val were arguing before the an dara sealladh swept over you.”

Reeling from her mother’s words, Amalie fought to breathe. If her mother thought she would share her vision from that night at Lyndham House, she was wrong. Amalie had no intention of sharing what the an dara sealladh had shown her that night or this afternoon. The memory of this afternoon sent a small shudder through her. When she’d slipped in the snow, Valeran’s strength and agility had taken her by surprise.

The man had moved with the same graceful movements and speed of a cat hunting a mouse. The irony was not lost on her. Held fast in his muscular embrace, Amalie had fought desperately not to press herself deeper into his hard male strength. Spicy and warm, his scent had invaded her senses until she was weak-kneed. And dear God, when his fingers had caressed her brow, the intimate touch had left her breathless.

Seconds later, the an dara sealladh had pulled her under. Like the vision she’d experienced in Lyndham House, the an dara sealladh had repeated the images she’d seen two years ago. Just as before, she’d seen herself locked in Valeran’s arms, their naked bodies entwined in the throes of passion.

The image had vanished in the blink of an eye to reveal her father standing in front of her, surrounded by a group of people she couldn’t identify. Then there had been the familiar image of her holding a shield with the Sommerville coat of arms. That was where the vision had changed, and for the first time she’d experienced sheer terror.

Light had bounced off the knife’s narrow steel blade as it had emerged from the darkness at a blistering speed. As it had slashed downward toward her, a silent scream had parted her lips. The sharp cry had never materialized as the an dara sealladh had released its grip on her.

Drained from the terrifying images, she’d been vaguely aware of Valeran cradling her in his arms. Features ashen, Valeran’s sightless eyes had stared down at her, a frown of deep concern lining his brow. His expression was identical to the troubled one he’d worn that night at Lyndham House.

Suddenly aware her preoccupation had intensified the way her mother was studying her in the mirror, Amalie flinched. Lady Patience’s sympathetic gaze of understanding made her heart slam into her chest. Forcing herself to roll her eyes with ironic amusement, she shook her head.

“I know what you’re thinking, Mother, and you couldn’t be further from the truth. I cannot abide the Earl of Sommerville. I can’t stand to be anywhere near him.”

You’re a fool, Amalie. You’re lying to yourself. Remember how willingly you would have surrendered to Valeran if he’d kissed you this afternoon? Admit it. You’re afraid to be alone with the man. You’re afraid of what might happen.

The jeering accusation made Amalie’s heart pound violently in her chest. Sharp, acute anguish streaked through her until her muscles were rigid with pain. The voice in her head cackled louder. She was afraid to be alone with Valeran. Denial was futile in that respect. Her reaction to him the instant he’d saved her from falling this afternoon was more than enough to convince her of that. But Amalie’s desire for the man was simply a physical response, nothing more.

Even now, the memory of how her body ached for his touch made her blood run hot. Once more, she met her mother’s assessing gaze. Slowly, she turned her head toward Lady Patience, who now appeared quite perplexed.

“I don’t understand, dearest, Jamie and—”

“What? You thought my decision not to marry was because of an unrequited love for the earl?” Amalie disguised her panic and fear with a snort of disbelief.

“Well, it did make sense,” her mother said with confusion.

Pain and humiliation rose inside Amalie. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. And to think she’d almost been fooled by Valeran’s quiet sincerity this afternoon. She’d actually been on the verge of confessing why she detested him. No, she’d almost admitted how deeply he’d hurt her. Thank God she had come to her senses in time. Amalie met her mother’s gaze in the mirror.

“The Earl of Sommerville is the last man I would ever consider marrying,” she bit out with the same icy disdain she’d used this afternoon. “Lord Sommerville is a philanderer and a lecherous reprobate, Mother. It appalls me that no one else in this family sees it.”

“Amalie Rockwood, what in heaven’s name would make you say such a thing?”

“The man’s reputation proceeds him. Are you going to deny Valeran’s carrying on with a married woman?” she said between clenched teeth.

Renewed humiliation fanned the flames of anger as she remembered Lady Chattfield challenging Valeran to seduce her. Worse was his laughter as he’d blatantly said he could.

“It’s not for anyone to judge Val’s behavior,” Lady Patience admonished Amalie with disapproval. “Jamie has repeatedly said Val’s relationship with the woman is platonic.”

“Well, that’s not what Lady Chattfield thinks, and if they’ve not tumbled into bed already, it’s only a matter of time. I’ve even overheard several women commenting on the man’s prowess in the bedroom.”

“Amalie,” her mother gasped in a mixture of shock and disapproval.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, Mother. I know what happens between a man and a woman.” When her mother’s stunned expression didn’t disappear, Amalie laughed for the first time in more than two days, relieved her headache had receded. “It’s not like I haven’t seen one of our stallions on top of a mare.”