Page 48 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

“Then perhaps—”

“No. I think it’s important you know how highly the women in our family think of you.” Braxton interrupted in a firm voice that echoed with a note of respect and even pride. “My aunts are barely speaking to their husbands, let alone their brother-in-laws. I’ve not seen so many flowers delivered since Uncle Roderick was courting Aunt Matilda. Flowers, which are ceremoniously dumped in front of my uncles before their eyes, then crushed beneath a feminine shoe.”

“All of them?” Amazed, Valeran focused his blind gaze on the shorter man’s shadow and saw his future brother-in-law bob his head vigorously.

“Yes, there isn’t a single woman in the household who’s ready to forgive us. Not that we don’t deserve their scorn for our lack of faith in you, but my uncles adore their wives. I’ve never seen such grim, forlorn expressions. Jamie said they look almost as grim as they did the night they went into the East End to rescue Aunt Rhea and the fire at Westbrook.”

“Good God,” Valeran breathed quietly. The solidarity the Rockwood women were showing on his behalf was humbling. Lady Patience’s declaration that he was a Rockwood was being reinforced on every man in the family.

“Exactly. Even Fiona and Harriet, who are just twelve, tilt their noses up in the air and walk right by us without a word. Uncle Sebastian might be suffering the most. Aunt Helen is never angry. Never.” Braxton blew out a breath that sounded like remorseful disgust. “But Uncle Sebastian was banished from their bedroom the first night they returned to London. Although I overheard him telling Uncle Lucien, he’d slept on the floor at Callendar Abbey for two nights. But he’s been sleeping in his study for almost two weeks now. When Uncle Percy asked him why, Uncle Sebastian grumbled he was tired of being awakened every morning at the crack of dawn by the pitcher of water Aunt Helen dumped on his head.”

“Well, if any of your aunts will listen to you, please express my humble gratitude for their faith in me, and that I request they take pity on their husbands. Their apologies have made it clear they regret their behavior.”

“I believe Aunt Helen will hear me out, and her sweet nature will make her take your request to heart. If I can convince her to take pity on Uncle Sebastian, then I think the rest of my aunts will follow suit.” Braxton extended his hand. “And despite my behavior, I am convinced my sister could not have chosen a better husband. All I ask is that you be good to her.”

“I will make the same promise to you that I did, Jamie. Amalie will want for nothing as my wife, and I’ll do my best to ensure she’s happy.”

Valeran shook Braxton’s hand firmly in a silent confirmation of his promise. The moment he finished speaking, he saw the man’s body relax in obvious relief. The reaction indicated Braxton cared deeply about his sister’s well-being. With a final farewell, Braxton left, leaving Valeran alone with his thoughts.

While he’d accepted the apologies that had been extended to him, he knew it would take time for him not to be guarded when it came to the Rockwood men. He, on the other hand, owed a debt of gratitude to the Rockwood women and their belief in him. Their display of disapproval with their menfolk in such a dramatic way wasn’t just amusing, but humbling as well.

Their actions emphasized their confidence in his strong moral character. Unfortunately, Amalie didn’t feel the same way. The memory of how she’d been compromised at the Abbey made his mouth twist with self-disgust. Amalie’s reputation would still be intact if he’d let her go as she’d demanded, not once, but twice.

It had been his actions that had trapped Amalie into a marriage with a man she despised. Suddenly, his chest tightened as he realized what a hypocrite he was. When Crianlarich had burst into his room that night, Amalie had tried to convince her father she’d entered Valeran’s room by mistake. But he’d refused to answer her silent plea for support in explaining the situation.

Convinced she’d arranged the entire scene, he’d been livid and unwilling to save her. Just as the men in her family had questioned his honor, he’d judged Amalie by refusing to defend her reputation. He’d forced her to face humiliation alone. Whatever he’d done in the past to earn her contempt, his behavior that night at the Abbey had only reinforced her low opinion of him.

He’d found Amalie guilty without hearing her explanation. Worse, he’d questioned her word as to Lady Mary being responsible for their situation. The knowledge sickened and shamed him. Whatever he’d done to incur her initial dislike of him, his actions at the Abbey had simply deepened her antipathy.

Dragging in a deep breath of self-disgust, Valeran didn’t blame her. He deserved every seething ounce of her fury. Now the question was, could he change her opinion of him? Valeran clenched his jaw with determination. It would be an uphill battle, but he would do whatever it took to make Amalie see him for who he really was. An honorable, decent man who would do his best to make her happy.

Chapter 14

Valeran stood silently in the salon of the Laird of Crianlarich’s London home, his jaw tight with tension as he and Crianlarich waited on Amalie and her mother. Tonight was the first party to take place over the next four nights leading up to his and Amalie’s wedding. The man’s hostility had been more than evident the moment Valeran arrived. Crianlarich had greeted him coldly, offered him a cognac, then moved to stand in front of the fireplace to ignore Valeran completely.

Although he couldn’t see the man’s expression, he was certain the Scotsman wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if the man thought he could get away with it. Instead of looking away from Crianlarich, Valeran clasped his hands behind his back and studied the man with his near sightless gaze while maintaining a stoic expression. The two of them had been waiting for several minutes before a gruff sound whispered through the room.

In a movement that appeared to be one of discomfort, the tall Scotsman shifted his position. Straightening his spine, Valeran readied himself for the verbal lashing he expected from the Scotsman. It was understandable why Crianlarich had reason to dislike him, but he wished the man would at least acknowledge his innocence. Another rumble of low thunder rolled through the air as the other man cleared his throat.

“It was wrong of me tae question your honor, lad. The Rockwood family does nae abandon or condemn one of our own.” Crianlarich moved again, and the man’s posture made Valeran think Amalie’s father was embarrassed. “Nae even the deep love I have for Amalie should have allowed me tae think the worst when we found ye together.”

“Thank you, sir.” Valeran’s quiet acceptance of the man’s apology made the tall Scotsman’s shadow shift again, then straighten to his full height.

“While I dinnae agree with this elaborate ruse my wife and her sisters have arranged, it does nae change the fact that Amalie does nae like ye, Sommerville. I dinnae ken why she holds ye in such low esteem, but I am giving ye this one warning.”

The man’s flatly spoken words made Valeran grimace. His reputation with women had always been used to hide his work for the Crown. Unfortunately, it was now a monumental detriment. Crianlarich paused for a moment, and Valeran struggled for a reply that would ease the Scotsman’s mind when it came to his intentions toward Amalie. The man didn’t give him the chance.

“I love Amalie as if she were my own flesh and blood. If ye dinnae treat Amalie well, every Rockwood male will cry for your head.” Crianlarich’s voice was an ominous thunderclap in the room. “What they dinnae ken is they will fail, because I will have already torn ye apart limb by limb and dropped your body into the deepest loch, nae ever tae be found.”

Valeran went rigid. The cold finality in the Scotsman’s words said Crianlarich wasn’t exaggerating. Drawing in a deep breath, Valeran shook his head slightly.

“I give you my word, sir. Amalie will want for nothing, and I will respect her and protect her from anything or anyone who seeks to do her harm,” Valeran vowed quietly. “I have already realized Amalie is everything a man could want in a wife. She will do me credit as the Countess of Somerville. I hope to convince her I only wish to ensure her happiness.”

To his surprise, Crianlarich’s head jerked as if Valeran had landed a blow to the man’s jaw. A dark, shadowy arm swept upward as the Scotsman appeared to rub the back of his neck. The man mumbled something, but the whisper of material brushing against petticoats pulled his attention away from Amalie’s father. The heavy rustle of damask cloth was accompanied by the lighter sound of silk brushing the floor.

Although Amalie’s murmured words were impossible to distinguish, the soft lilt of her voice was a gentle breeze against his ear. Immediately, his body responded to the sultry cadence. It was a velvety caress of sound he would never forget.

Over the years, he’d stored many voices in his head, but there was something bewitching about Amalie’s that stirred his blood. Mysterious and alluring, it swirled around him, calling to him much in the same way Circe must have called to Ulysses.