Page 8 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Apparently, the unknown woman had been so fascinated with the conversation that had floated over the wall she’d failed to keep track of the time and had been forced to make a hasty departure. If the woman was a gossip, Miriam’s words would spread like wildfire, and his role in the whole damn debacle would reinforce the aristocracy’s belief as to his reputation as a reprobate.

Worse, outside of telling the truth and destroying his reasons for even being with Miriam, he didn’t have a reasonable argument to explain his words to anyone in the Rockwood family, except for Jamie. But not even his friend would be able to save him from the close-knit family’s wrath.

In fact, Valeran didn’t have any defense for taking part in the conversation at all. He should have put an end to Miriam’s vicious words immediately. Valeran closed his eyes with regret. The best he could hope for was that the woman wasn’t a gossip, or that she didn’t know anyone in the Rockwood family. Grimly, he returned to his table. He was done with Lady Chattfield for the day. The sooner they parted company, the better.

Chapter 3

Callendar Abbey

Hogmanay - December 31, 1912

Perched on the flat rock Amalie always used whenever she climbed the cnoc beag, she ignored the cold that had been pushing its way through her skirts for some time. Evergreens surrounded the cnoc beag to form a hidden retreat only the family knew about. Crisp winter air mixed with the fresh scent of pine as she inhaled a deep breath, then expelled it slowly.

Muted laughter filtered its way through the pine trees, but it was so soft she barely heard it. She’d been at the summit for almost an hour, but she was reluctant to leave, even though she was beginning to grow cold. The peace and serenity of the silent space reminded her why she loved this spot so much.

It was rare for anyone other than her to climb to the summit, especially in winter, which made it a peaceful retreat. Today she’d needed an hour or so to fortify herself for the last of the Hogmanay festivities as they welcomed in the new year tonight.

This year’s annual Hogmanay house party was the largest one Callendar Abbey had ever seen. The abbey was overflowing with guests. At least six of the unmarried women were sharing a room, while more than half a dozen of the eligible gentlemen in attendance were doing the same. Amalie muttered an unladylike oath.

Aunt Matilda had obviously had her in mind with at least two eligible prospects for her. Mr. Melham had proven to be exceptionally tedious. The man was kind-hearted, but incredibly boring. Thank God he’d be returning to London tomorrow with all the other guests, including the Earl of Sommerville.

Besieged with all the noise in the abbey, her tension had been exacerbated by Valeran’s presence every time Mr. Melham called out her name. The businessman had the instincts of a hound chasing a fox, and wherever Mr. Melham was, so was Valeran. It had taken her a full day to realize it was deliberate on Valeran’s part.

For the first time since choosing to hide in the shadows, it had proven more challenging than ever before to avoid him. She’d spent the past week constantly looking over her shoulder.

Both men had tested her skill at eluding them, but Valeran seemed to have a second sense where she was concerned. Worse, just the sight of him was a sharp reminder of her humiliation in Rules. Through it all, her constant vigil to stay out of Valeran’s path had proven physically and emotionally draining. Then yesterday evening had happened.

Fingers tingling, Amalie shuddered at the vivid memory. It was bad enough that her great-aunt had planted Mr. Melham in her path, but it was the mistletoe, which had almost dealt her the final abasement. At Aunt Matilda’s instructions, mistletoe adorned every doorway of the abbey’s downstairs rooms.

Amalie had successfully managed to avoid the offensive sprigs until yesterday evening. The noise filling the inside of the salon had been daunting, and she’d hovered in the doorway debating whether to charge into the valley of death as the Light Brigade had done.

Out of the corner of her eye, she’d seen Valeran and Imogene standing together. The moment her cousin whispered something to him, he’d immediately turned his head in her direction. As always, his silvery blue eyes threw her off balance as he stared at her with that blind gaze of his that seemed to bore into hers.

The moment she saw a wicked smile curve his sensual mouth, her pulse raced at the same frantic pace it had the first time they’d met. As he’d walked toward her, the air had been sucked out of her lungs, leaving her struggling to breathe. Wild shouts of panic echoed in her head, telling her to run, but she hadn’t. Like a small mouse fascinated by a predator, and resigned to its impending doom, Amalie had remained frozen in the doorway.

Her gaze flitted to Imogene’s, trying to make sense of what was happening. As her cousin had glanced upward, Amalie had followed Imogen’s gaze. Ice had swept across her skin with blinding speed, and she could feel the blood draining from her face. Nausea pooling in the pit of her stomach made her sway beneath the mistletoe. Desperate to flee, her limbs refused to obey her brain’s frantic commands to run, which sent panic cresting over her like a wave ready to drown her beneath its force.

Imogene’s look of distress distracted Amalie for a brief second, and it was all the time Valeran needed to reach her. The warm fingers wrapping around her wrist had sent one tremor after another coursing through her until she was trembling wildly. Not even a bolt of lightning could have engulfed her with such an all-consuming fire as Valeran’s fingers had the moment he touched her. Dazed, she’d stared up at him, unable to speak.

Shock darkened his handsome face, and she moved slightly, which made him tighten his hand more firmly around her wrist. The two of them had faced each other for what seemed like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. As hard as she tried not to, Amalie failed to crush the hope unfurling inside her as she studied his chiseled features.

Varied emotions flitted across his face, and what she saw left her breathless. There was little doubt in her mind that he was feeling the same charge of current she felt. Puzzlement, then determination slowly replaced his shock. As he pulled her toward him, Amalie’s heart pounded like a runaway horse. Stumbling slightly, she’d instinctively braced her palm on his chest, and the touch sent another shock wave pulsing through her.

A quiet sound had rumbled in his chest at her touch, and the vibration thrummed against her fingertips. It sank into her pores, then her veins, until a blaze streaked through her blood. It was the large hand that settled on her waist that finally jolted her out of her trance. Without caring who might have been watching, Amalie had wrenched free of his hold and fled.

Muscles taut with tension, Amalie trembled at the visceral memory, then dragged in a deep breath. Slowly releasing it, she tried to ease the tension that had returned to bombard her senses. Dear God, what was wrong with her? Why hadn’t she fled the second Valeran headed toward her? She loathed the man.

Yet with just one small touch, she’d been on the verge of surrendering to him. Only a fool would do that. A mocking laugh filled her head. Amalie smacked it aside with a vicious blow of bitterness. Closing her eyes, Amalie tried to regain the tranquility that had disappeared at the mere thought of Valeran.

A guttural male oath from a point close to the summit of the cnoc beag drifted through the air to invade the quiet. With a jerk, Amalie’s gaze turned toward the point where the hillside path ended at the summit. Disappointed she would no longer have the cnoc beag to herself, she released a sigh of resignation.

Snow crunched beneath a heavy footstep, and she heard another oath. Unable to help herself, Amalie grinned as she stifled a laugh. The path had a thick, icy crust that had not been easy to traverse, and she’d almost fallen herself on the way to the summit. Standing up, Amalie choked back laughter as she heard another oath. This one was definitely not meant to be used in the company of ladies. But it was one she’d heard her father utter on numerous occasions when he didn’t know she was nearby.

Amalie took a step forward, ready to offer her assistance if only in the form of encouragement. Just as she was about to move, Valeran appeared. Oh dear God, what had she done to deserve being thrown into the fires of hell? Horrified, she stared at him in shock. The air in her lungs vanished until it was almost impossible to breathe.

Valeran blew out a harsh breath before he grinned with pleased satisfaction. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him have such a reaction. It was the same triumphant expression he wore every time he accomplished an ordinary task. Simple achievements anyone who wasn’t blind did without thinking. Still fighting for air, Amalie drew in what she hoped was a silent breath. Her heart sank the moment he turned his head toward her. If she’d been unconvinced of his exceptional hearing before, she wouldn’t question it now.

“Good morning,” he said quietly, his blind gaze pinned on her.