A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 159 - Hundred And Fifty Nine
Delaney stepped back a little from the door.
Her heart was beating a fast, joyful rhythm against her ribs. The heavy guilt that had been crushing her chest completely vanished, replaced by a warm, blooming sense of absolute wonder. She pressed her back against the cool wall of the corridor and looked at the ceiling.
"It all makes sense now," Delaney whispered softly to the empty hall.
The pieces of the puzzle fell perfectly into place. She remembered the very first day she had a conversation with Rowan concerning the kind of woman he wants for himself. She remembered the impossible, demanding list of criteria he had given her for his future bride.
She must be intelligent. She must be daring. She must know how to speak fluent French.
"His mystery woman," Delaney thought to herself, a beautiful smile spreading across her face. "All those criteria on knowing how to speak French and all that... he was not trying to be difficult. He was talking about me?"
The realization was dizzying. The Duke of Ford had not been trying to frustrate his matchmaker. He had been stubbornly refusing to marry anyone who was not the exact girl he had lost at the ball three years ago.
She let out a soft, breathless laugh. A single tear of pure happiness slipped down her cheek.
"He loved me twice," Delaney whispered, looking down at her scraped hands. "And we were both too blind to recognize each other."
When they first met at the balcony, she had been a woman looking for an escape route, and he had been a kind stranger. When they met the second time at the church, she had been a strict, plain matchmaker, and he had been The Golden Duke. The disguises they wore to protect themselves had hidden the truth from them both. But the connection, that deep, unexplainable pull between their souls, had remained exactly the same.
Delaney wiped the happy tear from her cheek. Her hazel eyes shone with joy.
"I am the one he is looking for," she said, her voice filled with quiet confidence.
She took a silent step forward and looked back into the small gap of the cracked door. She saw Ines and Aunt Margery still talking softly by the bed, keeping a careful watch over Rowan’s sleeping form. The doctor had said he needed absolute rest.
Delaney decided not to interrupt them. She did not want to cause a stir tonight.
She turned and went back down the long, carpeted hallway, leaving them to talk. She walked toward her own room in the Blue Suite.
As she walked, she made a firm, joyful plan in her mind. She would wake up before the sun. She would wash, dress in her best day gown, and sit by his bed. She was going to be the very first person he saw when he finally opens his eyes. She was going to tell him that his search was finally over.
~ ••••• ~
That same night, the Farringtons had received their own letter.
The heavy rain from the previous day had left the roads leading to the Earl’s country estate thick with mud. It was very late when the sound of galloping hooves finally broke the silence of the dark grounds. A fast rider, wearing the dark green and gold uniform of the Hamilton estate, pulled his exhausted horse to a halt in front of the grand entrance.
The rider handed a cream-colored envelope sealed with red wax to the Farrington butler, tipped his hat, and immediately left to complete the rest of his deliveries to the other noble houses.
Upstairs in her bedchamber, Lady Celine Farrington was wide awake.
She lay under her heavy silk quilt, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her head throbbed from her mother’s scolding in the drawing that afternoon over a mistake she made in her embroidery.
Suddenly, the quiet of the house was broken. Celine could hear a loud commotion coming from the ground floor. It was the sound of heavy boots, slamming doors, and angry voices. She recognized the deep, booming voice of her father, Lord Farrington. And she recognized the sharp, nervous voice of her uncle.
Lord Hawksley had arrived that morning to discuss something urgent with her father. They had been locked in the study for hours.
Curiosity got the best out of her. The house was usually perfectly silent at this hour. If her father was shouting, something terrible had happened.
Celine slipped out from under her warm quilt. She did not bother to find her slippers. She tipped-toed barefooted across the cold wooden floor of her bedroom. She opened her door with a slow, careful twist of the brass handle to avoid making a sound.
She moved like a ghost down the dark, chilly hallway, making her way to the scene of the argument.
She reached the top of the grand staircase and slowly crept down the steps. She stayed close to the wall to avoid the creaking boards in the center. She approached the doors of her father’s private study. The door was slightly ajar, letting a thin slice of yellow light spill out onto the marble floor of the foyer.
Celine pressed her back against the wall right beside the gap. She held her breath and listened.
Inside the study, Lord Farrington was incredibly angry.
He was not simply annoyed; he was furious. He stood behind his desk, holding the crumpled Hamilton letter in his fist. His eyes were cold, hard, and entirely devoid of any human empathy.
"Indisposed?" Lord Farrington spat the word out as if it tasted like poison. He threw the crumpled paper violently onto the desk. "The ball is put on hold indefinitely? How convenient!"
Lord Hawksley stood on the other side of the desk. He looked nervous, dabbing his sweating forehead with a white linen handkerchief. He shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"It says there was a carriage accident, my lord," Hawksley pointed out quickly, trying to calm his brother-in-law. "The Duke is severely injured. It cannot be helped. Accidents happen on these muddy roads."
Lord Farrington slammed his heavy hands down onto the desk. The loud bang made Celine jump in the hallway.
"I do not care if he broke every bone in his body!" Lord Farrington shouted, completely inconsiderate and entirely wicked. He did not care that a man is seriously injured; he only cared about his own ambition. "I care that the engagement is delayed! The contract clearly states he must announce the betrothal at the Hamilton ball before the month ends. If the ball does not happen, the timeline is ruined! Everything will be delayed."
