Page 36 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Amalie eyed her aunt with the same unrelenting stubbornness every Rockwood possessed. Yesterday after Valeran had left her alone in the salon, she’d fled to her room a few moments later, refusing to come out. Several of her cousins, as well as Braxton and Greer, had entreated her to join them when they’d gone skating on the pond. Amalie had simply ordered them to go away.

When her mother had knocked on her door later in the evening asking to come in, Amalie had scowled at the door and declared she had no intention of speaking with anyone, least of all her parents.

She’d spent most of the night sobbing into her pillow and fallen asleep in the early morning hours. It wasn’t until her father knocked on her door, demanding to speak with him, that she awoke. When Amalie had opened the door, he’d ordered her to join her mother and aunts in the salon as soon as she was dressed. The Laird of Crianlarich’s expression had been devoid of emotion, which made his order all the more emphatic.

From the moment she’d entered the salon, Aunt Louisa had tried to cajole her into visiting London to acquire a trousseau. She’d been arguing with her aunt for the last ten minutes about a trousseau she didn’t want. Every word Aunt Louisa spoke only made Amalie dig her heels in deeper. With an inaudible oath of frustration, the Countess of Argaty threw her hands up into the air. Lady Patience eyed her youngest sister with a look of rebuke for her language, and the Countess of Argaty bobbed her head to acknowledge the silent chastisement before she heaved a loud sigh.

“Heaven help me, Patience, will you please explain to your daughter why she needs a trousseau. Amalie’s marrying an Earl for heaven’s sake. She needs to dress accordingly.”

Amalie glanced in her mother’s direction with an unspoken plea for support. Lady Patience ignored her and arched a stern eyebrow at the youngest of the Rockwood siblings.

“Under the circumstances, I think Amalie is probably right in refusing to visit Madame DuBois’s for a trousseau, Louisa,” her mother said in a placating manner.

“Perhaps not a trousseau, but at least a few more gowns to add to the new ones we convinced her to be fitted for last month,” her aunt retorted with exasperation.

“Madame DuBois can use the measurements she took a few weeks ago to make several new dresses for Amalie.”

“Fine. Since my niece refuses to visit London, you and I can choose her trousseau for her.” Hands on her hips, Aunt Louisa nodded sharply at her older sister. “She’s going to be under enough scrutiny at the parties as it is, not to mention when she and Val make their first official appearance as the Countess and Earl of Sommerville.”

Her aunt’s words sent a chill down Amalie’s spine. Dear God, Aunt Louisa was right. She would have to appear in public as Valeran’s wife. Her stomach churned at the thought of facing the humiliating gossip, as well as the Marlborough Set’s smug looks of amusement and contempt. Suddenly, a knot formed in Amalie’s throat, threatening to cut off the air she needed to breathe. Dread coated her skin in a layer of ice as all of Aunt Louisa’s words pounded through her head.

“Parties? What parties?”

“You’ve not told her?” the Countess of Argaty exclaimed in amazement, which made Lady Patience’s brow furrow with irritation.

“Told me what?” Amalie demanded as she looked at her mother, who was glaring at her younger sister.

“I had intended to tell her a day or two before the first party,” Lady Patience snapped. “But that’s not possible now, is it?”

“Answer me, Mother. What are you hiding from me?” Anger overrode her fear, and her fierce words made Lady Patience flinch. Coming to her sister’s rescue, the Countess of Lyndham quickly stepped forward.

“The first time you and Val appear in public as man and wife will not be easy, dearest.”

The Countess of Lyndham’s features were solemn as she met Amalie’s gaze. A snort of harsh amusement filled Amalie’s head. Her aunt wasn’t saying anything she didn’t already know. When she remained silent, Aunt Constance sighed softly.

“Lady Mary has already spread tales of last night’s events, but she isn’t the only one who witnessed the incident.”

“You know she’s right, Amalie,” her Aunt Helen, the Countess of Melton, interjected with a gentle note of sympathy. “Your Aunt Rhea and I know firsthand how painfully humiliating a scandal can be.”

“Helen is right, sweetheart,” Rhea Rockwood met Amalie’s gaze as pain and humiliation flitted across her aunt’s face. “People can be cruel and vicious. None of us want that for you.”

“Ye know they’re right, Amalie.” Her great-aunt Matilda’s brogue was quiet and loving. “It will be easier tae silence wagging tongues if the family hosts four small parties celebrating your betrothal to Val. Everyone will be told the entire thing was an innocent mistake.”

“It was a mistake, because Lady Mary tricked me into entering Valeran’s room.”

Amalie glared at the women in the salon. Why hadn’t she just fled the man’s room last night? She wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. But she hadn’t. Instead, she was at the mercy of the machinations of her mother and aunts.

Her Aunt Louisa crossed the floor to gently touch Amalie’s shoulder. While she knew it was meant to be a consoling gesture, Amalie wasn’t in the mood to be comforted. She was angry. Furious that she was being forced to do the one thing she’d said she didn’t want to do.

“We know Lady Mary is responsible for this scandal, Amalie,” her Aunt Louisa said with a quiet firmness that belied her normally vivacious personality. “But we need to have others telling a different story to save you from as much public humiliation as possible.”

“We’ll simply say Isabel was searching for Thistle and asked for your help,” the Countess of Lyndham said gently, before her Aunt Louisa continued detailing their plan of action.

“Exactly, we’ll tell everyone that Isabel was afraid of getting into trouble with Lucien and Constance for running around the abbey in the middle of the night. So, she went to you for help.”

“Which started off the misfortunate chain of events.” Aunt Constance smoothly finished the story they’d devised. In disbelief. Amalie eyed her aunts as if they’d lost their minds.

“Ye cannae think anyone will believe such a story.”