Page 98 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Slowly, Amalie pulled back the curtain, the coarse linen drapery scratching her palm as she clung to the window frame. In horror, she watched Valeran move out of the shadows to face the man. Dear God, what was he doing? How could he possibly see the man in the dark? The gaslight lanterns were nothing but small patches of light over the wet cobblestones.

The sudden glint of a blade flashed in the light, and she covered her mouth to bite back a cry of terror. The an dara sealladh had shown her that knife two years ago. Had she seen the instrument of Valeran’s death? Terror mixed with disbelief as her husband did two backward flips to land lightly on his feet.

God in heaven, who had she married?

This wasn’t the Valeran she knew. The man below was a stranger. He didn’t even remotely resemble the man who laughed when she teased him, or held her close when she needed his strength. This couldn’t be the same man who caressed her body so tenderly as he made love to her and sent her soaring into heaven as she screamed his name.

Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed the bitterness as the taste briefly touched her tongue. Relief sailed through her as Valeran danced away from the man. It was a short-lived reprieve as she saw the dark circle on his shirt sleeve growing larger. Her free hand blindly searched for the window sill as she swayed on her feet.

Second after second, she watched the beauty of her husband’s body gracefully flip through the air to dance away from the other man’s blade. Transfixed, Amalie watched his legs kick out with blistering speed to connect with his opponent’s body. At first, she thought Valeran was winning, but the other man’s blade continued to swing through the air with deadly purpose.

When she saw the man’s knife plunge into Valeran’s back, her heart sank to the pit of her churning stomach. Almost as if he’d not felt a thing, her husband whirled around. With amazing speed, he threw himself forward, curled up in a ball, to land in front of his enemy, then drove his fist up into the man’s stones.

Valeran’s opponent was almost on his knees screaming in pain, and she watched her husband rise, positioning his body for God knows what when the other man’s blade sliced across the back of Valeran’s calve. Just the way he screamed in pain, then fell to the ground, told Amalie her husband was about to die.

“Oh, God, please,” she whispered. “Please don’t take him from me. Please, God, I love him so much. Please let him live. Please.”

God didn’t hear her as the man squatted next to Valeran, said something to him, then the man’s blade, twinkling in the glow of light from the lantern above, slashed across her husband’s mid-section. Valeran’s head lolled to the side, and Amalie stumbled away from the windows with a silent scream parting her lips. The only sound she could make was her gasps of air as she struggled to breathe. A warm breath blew across her neck, and she was on her knees in a moment. The sight of Valeran standing in front of her made her cry out with relief. It had been a dream. He was alive. She was on her feet in two seconds and leaped forward to throw herself into his arms, but found nothing but air.

“I love you, mouse. I’ll love you forever.”

Valeran’s whisper faded into nothing, and with a wild cry of grief, she raced toward the door. Amalie charged out into the hallway and into a small group of children, blocking her way. The sound of a gunshot echoed outside, and she heard someone shouting the word halt.

As gently as she could, Amalie pushed the children aside, then plunged down the stairs, her hands gripping the bannister to keep from falling. Racing toward the front door, she fumbled with the lock, then threw the bolt back, the cylinder screeching as metal scraped across metal.

Amalie flung the orphanage door open and rushed out into the darkness, then darted toward St. Mark Street. In the middle of the street, she saw Valeran lying still on the cobblestones. Someone was hovering over him, and with a violent shove, she pushed them out of the way.

“Get away from him or I’ll kill ye with my bare hands,” she snarled with all the rage of a wild animal.

She didn’t hear their reply as she savagely slammed her fists into her husband’s chest. Enraged that he’d dared to show his face so soon after his death, she pounded at his chest with a violence she didn’t know she possessed.

“Ye bastard. I will nae let ye do this tae me ye bawbag from hell. Ye will nae die on me, whispering ye love me from the grave. I will nae say I love ye tae a dead man. I will nae let ye leave your son tae grow up without his father,” Amalie said vehemently.

Furious with him for dying, she pounded Valeran’s chest with an all-consuming rage. It was a raw, out-of-control fury that refused to let him go.

“If ye leave me, I’ll follow ye, ye bastard. And ye will nae like how I will make ye pay for dragging me tae hell with ye.” She slammed her fists into his chest as a sob of grief poured up from the bottom of her soul.

“Mouse.” The word drifted so softly into her ears, and she hit him again with a violent anger.

“Dinnae ye, mouse me, ye bastard. Ye come back and say it tae my face.”

“Mouse, that…hurts.” The words made her go rigid before she jerked her gaze to his beautiful face. Fear still clawing at her insides, she glared at him.

“If I’m the mouse, what does that make ye, mon?” Her fierce demand made his lips curve slightly.

“The…cat.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she caught his hand and squeezed it tightly while feathering kisses all over his face, her tears splattering across his cheeks.

“Love…mouse.” Strong hands tugged at her shoulders, trying to pull her away from Valeran, but she fought hard to shake them off. The hands tightened painfully around her arms and roughly dragged her backward.

“Let Wills look at him, Amalie, or you just might lose him.” Jamie’s fierce voice penetrated her senses as she looked up at her cousin’s furious expression.

With another hard tug, her cousin yanked Amalie to her feet, then dragged her away from Valeran. A small tremor pulsed its way through her as she stared in bewilderment as her cousin Wills knelt at her husband’s side. He gently peeled back Valeran’s coat to examine his wound. The sound of her cat roaring with pain caused her to sag with relief. A man who could roar like that wasn’t ready to die.

“If he doesn’t die tonight, I’m going to make him wish he had.” The grim note in Jamie’s voice made her look up at her cousin in bewilderment. Before she could question him, Wills rose to his feet and turned toward them.

“I think the mon was lucky tonight. There’s been a substantial loss of blood, but I’ve managed tae stop most of the bleeding for now,” Wills’s voice had thickened with a Scottish brogue. It was a sign he was worried. “I dinnae think any of the major arteries are nicked, but we need tae get him tae the hospital. I cannae see a damn thing in the dark.”