Page 18 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

“Yes, but—”

“In fact, the book one of the maids found under Vincent’s pillow the last time we were here did portray a man and woman in a similar position to a stallion copulating with a mare.” She grinned. “Although, I’m sure it’s somewhat different between a man and woman given the other drawings.”

“They showed the book to you?” Lady Patience gasped in horror.

“No, I caught them giggling over it and demanded to see it.” Amalie frowned with puzzlement as she remembered one drawing. “However, I’m puzzled as to how a woman’s head between a man’s legs has anything to do with sex.”

“Oh, dear God. I cannot…I…have…if your father ever—” Lady Patience sputtered before a look of distress pulled the scarred tissue of her cheek taut. “Oh, Amalie, is that why you don’t want to marry? Are you frightened by what will happen between you and your husband in the bedroom?”

The question took Amalie by surprise and she met her mother’s gaze in the mirror with amusement. She found Lady Patience’s embarrassment sweet and endearing, especially when she was certain her parents demonstrated their love for one another even more passionately in the bedroom than they did when they thought no one would see them.

When she’d been much younger, Amalie had accidentally stumbled upon her parents locked in an embrace outside her father’s office. The quiet, teasing laugh escaping her mother had been accompanied by a low growl of pleasure from her father as he’d nibbled at his wife’s neck. It wasn’t until they realized she was watching them that they’d jerked apart.

She’d been surprised to see her father’s kilt fall downward as her mother had jumped back from him, but thought nothing of it at the time. Then last year, the book she’d seen had made her realize how intimately her mother had been touching her husband. Amalie laughed.

“No, I have no fear of a marriage bed. How could I when I see the way you and father look at each other at the end of the day and quickly move toward your rooms?” Amalie smiled slyly at her mother. “I’ve even seen how father kisses you when you think no one is looking. Somehow, I don’t think sleep is the only thing you do. After all, Father is a Scotsman, and they’re said to be a lusty lot, especially in a kilt.”

“Amalie.” Another gasp escaped Lady Patience, as color stained her cheeks. Her mother’s blush made her wonder if she was remembering the time she’d interrupted her parents.

“Well, clearly, you find it pleasurable,” she said with a laugh. “Or you wouldn’t—”

“That’s quite enough, young lady,” her mother snapped. The color in Lady Patience’s cheeks became a deep scarlet. But Amalie was certain she saw her mother’s mouth twitch as if holding back a laugh. Amalie wrapped her arms around Lady Patience to hug her tightly.

“I love you, Mother, but there’s nothing for you to be worried about,” she said quietly. Lady Patience pulled away from Amalie to cup her cheeks.

“All your father and I want is for you to be happy.” The Mistress of Crianlarich eyed her carefully, and when Amalie didn’t speak, her mother kissed her brow. “I’ll say goodnight then, mo nighean luachmhor, try to get some sleep. It will do you good.”

With that final word of advice, her mother was gone, leaving Amalie alone with her thoughts. Amalie turned away from the mirror, her mind a jumble of emotions. It had been an incredibly long day, and even her nap after Jamie had carried her back to the abbey hadn’t refreshed her.

Exhausted, she climbed into bed and leaned toward her nightstand to douse the oil lamp. She’d just managed to adjust her head comfortably on her pillow when a soft knock echoed through the air. Frowning, she rolled onto her back, reluctant to get out of bed. Perhaps whoever was knocking would go away. They didn’t. Irritated, Amalie climbed out of bed clumsily and headed toward the door. Whoever was standing in the hallway outside her room was going to regret knocking.

Chapter 6

Ready to make mincemeat out of someone, Amalie threw open her bedroom door. It was rare for her to be rendered speechless, but the sight of Lady Mary in the hallway managed to silence her completely. Now, still stunned by the woman’s appearance at her door, Amalie struggled to comprehend Lady Mary’s request. What in the name of heaven had made her nemesis come to her for help? Their dislike for one another had been established years ago, the details of which she couldn’t remember.

But last year’s incident at Callendar Abbey’s Hogmanay house party had done irreparable damage. When Amalie learned her cousin Rufus had been escorting Lady Mary to various social events for more than two months, she’d been horrified. Determined to make her cousin see Lady Mary for who she really was, Amalie had forcibly dragged her cousin into the Abbey’s library before he joined others on their way out to a shooting party.

Viscount Norbury had evidently seen them and eavesdropped on her conversation with Rufus. Private words she’d meant only for her cousin’s ears had been made public by Norbury. Harsh criticism that had made Lady Mary the focus of gossip for months. While Amalie refused to take responsibility for Lord Norbury’s actions, she regretted not being more cautious when she’d expressed her concerns with Rufus. She would never have shared such a withering commentary if she’d known someone was listening.

However, Amalie believed Lady Mary shared a small amount of responsibility for becoming a target of gossip among the aristocracy. The woman’s scathing and condescending refusal of the viscount’s proposal of marriage two years ago had humiliated the man. Norbury’s glee in sharing Amalie’s private conversation had only exacerbated the woman’s humiliation.

Now, as she met Lady Mary’s gaze, Amalie found herself wishing Aunt Louisa wasn’t friends with Lord and Lady Blackburn. Whenever the couple were invited to a Rockwood party, Lady Mary came as well. Amalie liked the older couple, but Lady Mary was their only child. They’d indulged her until the girl believed the sun and moon revolved around her. As she stared at the young woman, Amalie wanted nothing more than to simply slam the door in her face. But she didn’t because she liked Lady Daisy, who was flighty, but sweet.

“But why me? I’m not married or even engaged, what advice could I give her?”

“I’ve heard you give advice to your sister,” Lady Mary exclaimed. “You’re perfect for helping Daisy understand she doesn’t need Lord Mansfield. She’s such a sweet girl. There are dozens of men in London who would leap at the chance to propose to her.”

Lady Mary’s words sounded just as genuine as the pleading look on the woman’s face. Despite her seemingly innocent request, Amalie still found it difficult not to think the woman was up to no good.

“I’m still not sure I can be of any help, but—”

“Oh, thank you Miss Rockwood.” Lady Mary grabbed Amalie’s hand and pulled her into the hallway. “Nothing I’ve said has done any good at all, but I’m certain you’ll be able to make her see things in a different light.”

“Wait, let me get my robe,” Amalie protested as Lady Mary pulled her out into the corridor.

“No, there’s no time,” Lady Mary said in a hushed tone. “Daisy is quite distraught, and I’m truly worried she’ll do something rash, and it is just the three of us, after all.”

Amalie muttered an oath beneath her breath as Lady Mary pulled her down the hall. While it was unlikely they’d meet anyone in the halls of the Abbey at this hour, Amalie still didn’t care to roam the corridors in only a nightgown with so many people in the house.