Page 83 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Jamie had urged Valeran more than once to tell Amalie what he did for the Crown, but he’d put it off every time he considered it. What his friend didn’t know was Valeran’s confession could badly damage, if not destroy, his marriage. His friend had said he wouldn’t lose Amalie, but Valeran didn’t believe him.

“Then I ken I help, even if only tae make Jamie understand he’ll nae get anywhere with ye if he’s angry. I know that from experience.” The mischief in her voice made him laugh.

“And yet every time you arouse my anger, it always ends with a delectable mouse toying with the cat in such pleasurable ways.” Valeran cupped her cheek and grinned at the heat burning his palm.

“Behave, Lord Sommerville.”

The musical sound of her laugh filled his ears before she bent her head and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss. It contained no desire, only a sweet warmth that soothed him for some unknown reason. The memory of his conversation with Jamie made him frown. She gently brushed her fingers across his brow.

“It truly bothers ye that ye are at odds with Jamie.”

“Yes, but we’ve known each other long enough for me to know we’ll eventually iron out our disagreement.”

“Well, Jamie and I have always been close, I wouldn’t mind—”

“Amalie, did you like it when I tried to intervene in your disagreement with your Aunt Louisa the other day?”

He arched an eyebrow as he studied the dark and light contours of her face. A face he would never see, except with his fingers, but he knew she had a beautiful countenance. The reluctant sigh of defeat she released made him nod.

“Then do not interfere with my disagreement with Jamie. We’re not children who need to be pulled apart in the nursery and given a scolding.”

Valeran intentionally lightened his firm directive with humor. The snort of laughter she released made him nod with satisfaction.

“I’m not sure how, but you seem to have your way with me in all manner of things, my lord,” she said with a smile in her voice.

Relief raced through him. Another battle won. One hand sliding around her neck, Valeran pulled her downward to kiss her with tenderness. Before he could deepen the kiss, Amalie immediately retreated.

“As much as I would like tae appease your appetite, Lord Sommerville, I dinnae have time,” she said with a laugh as he moved his hips to press his hardening cock against her bottom. Regret and disappointment whispered in the sigh she released. “I truly would like tae go upstairs, Valeran, but I have an appointment with Mrs. Clancy. I’ve already put her off twice, and I ken she and Mrs. Stubbins are growing concerned about the menu for our dinner party next week.”

“Dinner party?” he exclaimed with concern. The memory of the Darlington affair and its aftermath made him frown. The instant she tried to break free of his embrace, he tightened his hold, ensuring she remained his lap.

“Aye, a dinner party,” she said firmly.

“Since when did you decide we were to have a dinner party?”

“I thought it time tae entertain the Darlingtons, the Churchills, and others. It will be of value tae ye future in the government.”

“I’m perfectly fine in my current position in the House of Lords. And I have absolutely no interest in any upward movement to a higher office.”

“Well, we are still having one. Aunt Louisa and Aunt Constance said it was time.”

“Your family meddles far too much,” he snapped.

“I know, but it really is—”

“I won’t allow it.”

The harsh words made her stiffen. Immediately, Valeran realized his mistake. His mouth twisted with aggravation at his badly botched response. His reactionary manner had been far removed from the diplomatic strategy he usually employed with his wife. Amalie was no different from other Rockwood women. None of them responded well to commands. He’d learned logic was needed to convince Amalie to his way of thinking.

But he knew how distressing a constant barrage of noise was for his wife. The Darlington dinner party had reinforced that point with him. Playing hostess would simply exacerbate her stress and discomfort.

It was why his list of reasons to decline various social engagements was growing weaker, while Amalie’s suspicions grew. Now, his adamant rejection of their hosting a dinner party meant he’d gone from the shallows into deep waters in a split-second.

“I’m sorry, mouse,” he said with sincere regret. “It’s just that I know how difficult these kinds of events are for you, and I don’t—”

“Is that why ye have offered up the most inane excuses for declining invitations we’ve received over the past month and a half?” she exclaimed, her anger clear in her tantalizing voice. Uncertain how to answer, he remained silent. The anger in her deep inhalation of air alerted him to the fact he’d now gone from treading water to drowning.

“Of all the—” Amalie’s finger jabbed painfully into his upper chest. “Ye are an arrogant, pig-headed, bawbag, Lord Sommerville.”