Page 26 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

If his best friend knew the liberties he’d taken with Amalie or how close Valeran had come to bedding her, the other man would be pummeling him into oblivion. But the truth was, he didn’t have an answer as to why he’d refused to let her go. Mocking laughter filled Valeran’s head.

To silence the sound, he reminded himself that he and Jamie had consumed a great deal of whisky before he retired this evening. It would be easy to lie and blame his behavior on the whisky. But it would be precisely that—a lie. No, there was only one reason he’d kept Amalie from fleeing his room.

Desire.

Valeran had succumbed to his base instincts, and the unwavering need to let his fingers explore and memorize Amalie’s face. He’d reveled in the softness of her voluptuous curves pressing into his. Just as soft had been the scent wafting off her skin. Amalie’s intoxicating fragrance had been fresh and sweet, with a faint hint of citrus. It was as if they’d been standing in a forest while a gentle summer rain fell down on their heads.

Combined with the whisky he’d drunk, everything about her had been a drug that had left his brain sluggish and clouded. Valeran had been well on his way to seducing the woman and would have succeeded if Crianlarich hadn’t arrived. In the back of his mind, a memory tried to push its way out of his muddled thoughts. It vanished as Jamie released an abrupt sound of fury and disgust.

“Damnation, this is one hell of a mess.”

Valeran saw the dark length of the younger man’s arm rise as he shoved his hand through his hair in obvious frustration. As he contemplated Jamie’s solemn remark, Valeran’s muscles tensed and stiffen. Just as a stone tossed into a pond created an ever-expanding circle of ripples in the water, tonight’s disaster was no different.

But that was where the similarity ended. The ramifications of tonight and his impending marriage were far more dangerous. Valeran drew in a sharp breath at the thought. If the Prussians learned he was working for the Secret Intelligence Service, as his wife, Amalie would be in danger.

“It’s far more serious than that,” he bit out as his brain immediately set to work trying to develop several feasible solutions to the problem. As her husband, it was Valeran’s duty to protect Amalie, no matter the cost.

“Christ almighty,” his friend uttered softly, immediately understanding Valeran’s comment. “You’ll have to tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Valeran snarled. “That in addition to marrying a man she loathes, her life is now in danger because her new husband is a spy?”

“Amalie doesn’t know you well enough to hate you, Val. Every time she sees you coming, she heads the other way.”

“I’m all too aware of that fact. It’s why I didn’t recognize her voice this afternoon,” he said between clenched teeth. “But I have no doubt as to how much your cousin detests me.”

“Well, if Amalie has taken a dislike to you, it’s easy to imagine how blunt she was.”

“If you’re suggesting she skewered me, then I can confirm that your cousin’s tongue is sharper than the sigan dubh you showed me the other day.”

Valeran scowled in the other man’s direction in an effort to avoid any hint of what he was really thinking. The words rolling off Amalie’s tongue might have been sharp, but she’d only tasted soft, smooth, and hot when he’d kissed her. She’d been a fiery warmth as her tongue had tangled with his. Sugared lemon drops had never tasted as sweet or tart as she had.

“You’ll survive my cousin’s sharp tongue,” Jamie said with a strong dose of amusement that made Valeran believe the man was grinning, but it was impossible to tell. “Just charm her the way you do all the women you spend time with.”

“Somehow, I don’t think your cousin is the type of woman to fall at the feet of a man willingly, if at all.”

“True, but then you thrive on challenges. It’s one of the reasons we’re such good friends and partners,” Jamie said cheerfully before he cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back. “But we need to find out who arranged this fiasco and why. Do you think Chattfield or his wife might have had a hand in this?”

“Are you asking if Miriam knows we’re investigating her and her husband?”

The moment he asked his friend the question, Valeran grew rigid. Damnation, was that possible? He hesitated for a mere second before shaking his head. It was true he’d been burning the candle at both ends, but he was certain Miriam didn’t have an inkling as to why he was showering her with attention.

“No.” Valeran made an indistinct sound of disgusted anger and turned back toward the warmth of the fire remembering Lady Chattfield’s warning not to fall into the marriage trap. “But if I’ve slipped up somewhere, then anything’s possible.”

“Well, you have been out of sorts for several months.” Jamie’s observation made Valeran stiffen. He must have been more tired than he’d realized if his friend had noticed. Jamie cleared his throat.

“I imagine spending almost every night in Spitalfields or the East End isn’t helping.”

“How the hell do you know about that?” Valeran spun around to face his friend.

“C told me. He said you refused to give him a reason for your nightly jaunts, and the man was quite put out as to how tight-lipped you were about it. So, he ordered me to watch your back, something I didn’t need any orders to do.”

“Are you telling me you’ve been tracking my activities?” Valeran narrowed his eyes in anger and pinned what little eyesight he possessed on the dark figure standing a few feet away.

“Several times, but whenever you got into a scrape with someone, you came out on top. It was clear you weren’t following up on any leads from the foreign section, so I stopped. Although, you’ve become damned clever with your disguises, Val. They’re almost equal to the ones Featherstone always wore.”

“And my failure to realize you were tracking me says your ability to blend in has improved far more than you’ve let on.”

Irritated he’d not detected Jamie on his heels, Valeran frowned. Failing to noticed he was being followed meant he was getting sloppy. If he didn’t take care, he could easily wind up dead in the street, just like Featherstone.