Page 9 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Danger. The memory of yesterday evening drew her muscles taut with fear, and she shuddered. Her gaze flitted toward the path down the cnoc beag. Valeran was blocking the pathway, and short of pushing him out of the way, she had no other way down.

Something that looked like regret settled on his face, before a pleasant smile touched his beautiful mouth. Amalie instantly berated herself for noticing both. Heart pounding frantically in her breast, she tried to ignore how the space between them vibrated and hummed with energy. When she didn’t respond, his brow furrowed in a frown. She didn’t know if he was irritated or puzzled by her silence.

“It’s generally considered polite to reply to someone’s greeting,” he said quietly.

Trembling, Amalie’s mouth went dry as she suddenly realized he might easily recognize her soft, monotone voice now that he knew she’d been avoiding him. There was no mistletoe here, but his behavior yesterday, their close proximity now, and the challenge he’d accepted from Lady Chattfield told her not to tempt fate.

In the back of her head, she could have sworn she heard Angus Stewart snorting with disgust at her lack of courage. The sound made her tighten her mouth. She’d already dismantled that argument three weeks ago. The dark voice pushing its way into her conscious mind scornfully reminded her how she’d fled that day in Rules.

“There’s no need to be alarmed. I can assure you, I’m perfectly harmless.”

Valeran’s quiet words made her eyes widen in astonishment before she drew in a sharp breath of raw fury. The Earl of Sommerville was as harmless as a wolf standing next to a lamb. Without thinking, she released a fierce, sarcastic snort of disbelief, then almost groaned at her foolishness.

But when he jerked in surprise, it was impossible for Amalie to suppress a gleeful smile at his bewildered expression. Had the man expected her to swoon with delight? Of course, he did.

You almost do every time the man appears.

Amalie pounded the voice into silence. Eyebrows arched in bafflement, Valeran tipped his head slightly. Amalie closed her eyes and mentally slapped her palm against her forehead. Without even saying a word, she’d piqued his curiosity. She was an idiot.

“Something tells me you doubt my word.”

“I don’t know you well enough to take you at your word,” Amalie lied icily, then stiffened with dismay.

Beneath the aristocratic reply she’d learned in school, she heard the stirrings of her Scottish accent trying to break free. It meant she was close to unleashing her anger and raining hell’s fire and brimstone on him. That she couldn’t do if she wanted to remain hiding in the shadows.

You want him to know who you are. Don’t you?

Trembling, the voice jeered at her with a vengeance. She gulped. No, she didn’t.

Yes, you do. You want to tell him exactly what you think of him. You want to humiliate him.

Did she want to see him hurt as badly as she did?

Yes, you want him to feel the same chagrin she had in Rules.

No. Another voice in her head overpowered the one pushing her toward vindictive retribution. Extracting her pound of flesh would make her no better than him. More times than she could remember, anger had made her lose control of her sharp tongue. The end result would plague her conscience, and out of self-preservation, she’d learned to control her rebuttals when she was angry.

All she needed to do was leave the summit, then give thanks she’d escaped. Amalie took two steps forward, then halted as he took one step to the side, effectively blocking her avenue of escape. The deliberate move sent her heart crashing into her chest. Dear God, what a fool she was for provoking him.

“And yet you sound as if you know me.” When she didn’t reply, puzzlement made him shake his head. “Do we know each other?”

She knew him far better than she wanted to. The Earl of Sommerville might have others fooled, but she knew the kind of man he was. Bitterness rose inside her as she remembered her moment of enlightenment. Decency and honor were two words Valeran would never be able to claim acquaintance with.

Are you so sure about that? He didn’t actually say he would seduce you. The man hasn’t come near you this week.

Amalie sneered at the voice objecting to her assessment of his character. It hadn’t been for lack of trying that had kept Valeran from finding a way to seduce her. She’d managed to avoid him, even though his attempts to corner her were more than evident. Amalie shook her head.

“Ye are nae the kind of mon I want to ken.”

Disgust and loathing dripped off her every word, like droplets falling from a bottle of poison. Valeran’s tall figure stiffened, and Amalie suddenly realized her brogue had been on full display. Closing her eyes, she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

“So, we have met before. Tell me where.”

His authoritarian demand made Amalie jerk with anger. She had no intention of telling him another thing. She’d said too much already. As he pinned that disturbing silvery-blue gaze on her, the frustration darkening his features made her heart skipped a beat. Valeran’s eyes became narrow slits as he peered at her. She flinched. Was it possible he could see her, even if only a little? The moment a sinful smile touched his lips, Amalie shuddered with apprehension.

“Very well, since you won’t tell me who you are, allow me to solve the mystery by the process of elimination.”

“If ye think tae impress me with how intelligent ye are, I’m nae interested,” she said coldly, her proper English accent now completely obliterated by her Highland brogue. His confident smile made her mouth tighten with outrage.