Page 53 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

“I ended my relationship with Lady Chattfield the day after I returned to London,” Valeran said quietly. He saw a shudder ripple through her, and he reached out to take her hand. The instant he touched her, she froze. “I give you my word, Amalie. I’ll never betray or humiliate you.”

For a long moment she remained motionless, then slowly nodded her head and with a quiet murmur of gratitude, she pulled her hand from his. It was the last thing she said as they drew up in front of the home of the Baron and Baroness Turnbridge.

Once inside, they were guided into the parlor, where they were quickly engulfed by a large contingent of Rockwoods, as well as a larger than expected number of other guests. They’d only been in the room for a few moments when Amalie went rigid next to him. The tension radiating off of her was like a fire burning his skin. Concerned, his hand touched her arm as he pressed his mouth against her ear.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Lady Mary is here.”

The whispered reply was devoid of any emotion, but the muscles in her arm were taut. Amalie’s detached, almost nonchalant response was nothing more than a tarp covering a powder keg ready to explode.

“Would you like to leave?”

“And let the woman ken she’s won a second time? Nae, but I make nae promises as tae what I will do if she comes near me.”

“Very well, perhaps I should warn Lady Turnbridge’s cook to ready another spit for the fire?”

“What?” Amalie jerked, and Valeran saw the gently rounded shape that was her head tip back sharply as she looked at him. He shrugged.

“Since you plan on skewering the woman, it would make things easier if we notify Lady Turnbridge’s cook that Lady Mary is about to be dressed and prepared for roasting in short order,” he murmured.

Valeran schooled his features into a stoic expression, waiting for her answer. After several seconds, he heard a small gurgle of laughter whisper out of her. It slowly expanded until it became a musical laugh. Like a soft summer breeze at Callendar Abbey, her amusement became an exquisite scrape of sensation over his skin.

“Nae, I dinnae think ye need anyone tae ready the spit,” she said softly with another laugh. As the muscles beneath his fingers relaxed, he knew the powder keg had been defused. But the tactile caress of her laugher lingered.

“Excellent, I was worried my taste buds would be sorely tested if you agreed.”

Another laugh whispered out of her. It wrapped around him like magical, invisible strands of light, and Valeran wished he could hear her laugh more often. The thought made him wince. What the devil was happening to him? If he wasn’t careful, the future Countess of Sommerville would be making him dance to her tune. But there was one thing he was certain of, he needed to ensure she laughed more often.

Chapter 15

What ails ye, mo ghràdh?”

Julian’s quiet question made Patience jerk as she looked up from fastening his cuff links before she turned to the business of undoing his tie and tying it properly. With a forced smile, she shook her head.

“You always manage to make your tie look worse than a spoonful of rumbledethumps.”

“Which is one of the many reasons why I married ye, mo leannan. Ye were the only woman with an appetite for rumbledethumps I could find.”

“If I recall, it was my laugh that made you fall in love with me. “

“Nae, ye ken well and good that it was your lust for food that did that.” A sinful glint darkened his gaze as he grinned. “Of course, there are other kinds of lust that have ensured I never let ye stray far from my side.”

“Stop being wicked, Crianlarich.” Patience laughed. “Our daughter is to be married shortly.”

“Aye that she is.” Julian nodded. The moment she finished with his tie, he grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Is that what troubles ye so, lass?”

The moment she winced, Julian muttered a soft oath.

“Out with it, Patience. I know that look. Ye’ve been meddling again.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, Julian, do you think we’re doing the right thing insisting Amalie marry Val? I’m sure she could have weathered the scandal at Crianlarich Castle. You know she’s much happier at home or Callendar Abbey, and London is far too noisy.”

“Are ye saying ye are having second thoughts about practically browbeating me in tae ordering Amalie to marry a man she does nae love?”

“I don’t know. What if the…if I’m wrong?”

“Patience MacTavish, are ye telling me the an dara sealladh is why ye adamantly demanded I order Amalie to marry Sommerville?” The quiet rumble in his chest made Patience flinch.