Page 51 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

“What an excellent idea,” his future mother-in-law exclaimed. “Too much noise often proves unpleasant for Amalie, even if it’s just the family and a few friends.”

“Seeing to her comfort is part of my promise to do everything I can to ensure her happiness.”

Valeran smiled as he looked down at Amalie again. Her head angled slightly downward, she appeared to be studying their clasped hands. Another tremor pulsated through her and into his hand. Once more, the urge to comfort her slammed into him, and the force of the emotion sent him reeling.

The night air blew cold against his face a few minutes later as they left the house. But compared to the heat the woman on his arm was generating in him, he hardly noticed. Carefully counting the steps leading down to the sidewalk, his hand cupped Amalie’s elbow as he guided her forward to where Cochrane held the door to the Rolls Royce open for them.

Nervous energy vibrated off her as Valeran released her elbow so she could slide into the back seat of the Silver Ghost. While waiting for her to get situated, he murmured their destination to his driver. The automobile’s door closed behind him, and Valeran leaned forward to close the divider separating the driver and passenger compartments of the vehicle.

Silence weighed heavily in the space between them as the Rolls Royce rolled smoothly away from the curb. Despite the Silver Ghost’s custom coach enclosure, the cold still seeped in, making it only a few degrees warmer inside the automobile than the air outside. Without a word, Valeran pulled the blanket Cochrane always kept tucked behind the fold-down seat opposite him.

Swiftly shaking it out, he turned toward Amalie. Valeran’s chest tightened at the way she had pressed herself into the wall of the automobile. Frozen in place, she could have been a statue. Not even the air vibrated with her trembling, she was that still. Christ, how the devil was he supposed to woo her when she seemed absolutely terrified of him?

“Take this, it will keep you warm.”

She didn’t move for a moment before she accepted the large woolen blanket and draped it over her lap, letting it fall to the floorboard.

“Thank you.”

The monotone reply reminded him of all the times she’d greeted him softly in the past before retreating into the shadows. Frowning, he shifted his body to face the front of the car. The small, almost imperceptible breath of relief she exhaled tightened his mouth.

Damnation, what had he done to make the woman so terrified of him, or was it her intense dislike for him that had her on edge? Cool air with only the sound of their breathing filled the space between them as Valeran tried to think of something to say.

“You’ve been well?” The moment the words passed his lips, Valeran winced at how awkward sounding his question was.

“Yes.” It was a short, unemotional reply.

It suddenly occurred to Valeran that he should mention a post-wedding trip. While he knew it was unlikely she had any wish to go anywhere with him, he wanted to at least make the offer. If she accepted, he could make arrangements for a week in Paris.

“I know a wedding trip is customary. Would you like to go to Paris?” At the question, he saw her stiffen, but she didn’t look at him.

“Do ye really want me tae answer that question?” she snapped in that lilting burr of hers, and he smiled with pleasure as the sound caressed his ears.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“At least I’m nae marrying an eejit,” Amalie muttered sarcastically, and Valeran chuckled at the irritation in her voice.

“No, you’re not marrying an idiot.”

Silence met his answer, and his amusement faded. The woman was definitely not going to make things easy for him. He’d known Amalie would be a challenge, but he was beginning to think he’d underestimated the difficulty of his task. Valeran rubbed the back of his neck as he contemplated how to engage her in a conversation.

Still huddled in the corner, her tension pulsed between them like a living thing. Amalie’s head was turned away from him as she stared out the window, but he sensed fear beneath her tension. Was she afraid of him, or was it the plan her mother and aunts had concocted to convince London’s aristocracy theirs was a love match, not that Amalie had been compromised? Deep inside, a voice firmly told him it was the latter.

“Are you apprehensive about this scheme your mother and aunts have manufactured, Amalie?” His question made her jerk her head in his direction.

“Apprehensive?” She studied him for a brief moment before she shook her head and looked away from him. “Even if I were, I would nae show it. I’m a Rockwood, we dinnae run from anything.”

“So you are apprehensive?”

“Dinnae put words in my mouth, Lord Sommerville.”

“Then answer my question. Are you apprehensive?”

“Nae.”

The abrupt response was followed by a small shudder, and he knew she was lying. She was clearly intimidated by the small theatrical production they were embarking on. Once more, the impulse to take her in his arms and comfort her rushed through him. The strength of the sensation made his gut tightened.

“Of all the Rockwoods, I think you’re the most stubborn of the lot. I don’t think you’d ever admit to feeling unsettled or frightened about anything.”