A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 104 - Hundred And Four

In the corner of the room, the heavy velvet curtain rustled.

Delaney came out of her hiding spot.

She looked entirely disheveled. Her dark hair was a wild tangle around her shoulders. Her face was flushed a bright, burning red that extended all the way down her neck to her collarbone. She was clutching her silk robe tightly around her waist, as if it could somehow protect her from the overwhelming embarrassment crashing down upon her.

She could not look at him. The memory of the kiss—the wild, desperate way she had grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her—replayed in her mind, making her cheeks burn even hotter.

"I should go," Delaney whispered. Her voice trembled.

She tried to move quickly across the room, keeping her head down, avoiding meeting his face. She just wanted to reach the door and run back to the safety of the Blue Suite.

But in her haste, and in her blind embarrassment, she did not watch where she was walking.

As she hurried past the edge of the large oak desk, the flowing sleeve of her silk robe caught on the corner of a heavy wooden bookstand. She pulled, trying to free herself. The sudden movement upset the delicate balance of the desk.

Delaney mistakenly knocked off a tall stack of heavy, leather-bound estate ledgers.

Crash!

The large books tumbled over the edge of the desk. They hit the floor with a loud, heavy thud. Loose papers, receipts, and important documents spilled out from between the pages, scattering like snow across the beautiful Persian rug.

Delaney gasped in horror. She froze, looking at the massive mess she had just created.

"Oh, no," Delaney whispered. "I’m sorry."

She instantly dropped to her knees on the rug. Her bare feet tucked beneath her, she began to frantically gather the scattered papers. She kept her chin tucked tightly to her chest, her face burning with utter mortification. She felt like a foolish, clumsy child.

Rowan watched her. He set the tenant’s letter down on the desk.

He walked around the desk and crouched too, dropping down to his knees right across from her to pick them up.

He reached out and began gathering the heavy leather books, stacking them neatly. As he did, he watched her. He noticed how she was keeping her head down, completely avoiding looking at him. Her hands were shaking slightly as she shuffled the loose papers together.

A slow, genuine smile crossed Rowan’s face.

The heavy, dark tension that had suffocated him all evening suddenly lifted. The sight of the usually fierce, sharp-tongued matchmaker acting so completely flustered was incredibly endearing. It made his chest feel warm.

"I never thought I would live to see the day you are actually shy," Rowan said softly.

His voice was a low, teasing murmur. It carried no anger, only a deep, affectionate amusement.

Delaney’s hands stopped moving for a second. The blush on her cheeks deepened to a dark crimson. She grabbed a handful of receipts and shoved them toward him without looking up.

Rowan chuckled, a rich, warm sound that vibrated in the quiet room.

"I never imagined you could be clumsy, Miss Kingsley," Rowan continued, his eyes dancing with mirth. "You usually move with the terrifying precision of a military general."

Delaney finally snapped her head up. Her hazel eyes narrowed, flashing with a sudden spark of her usual fiery spirit. The embarrassment was still there, but her pride refused to let him tease her without a fight.

"At least I’m not as clumsy as you, Your Grace," Delaney replied sharply.

Rowan raised an eyebrow. "Me? I did not just throw half the estate accounts onto the floor."

"No," Delaney retorted, her chin lifting defiantly. "But you practically shouted the roof down when Mr. Simmons simply offered to open a curtain."

’No!’" she mimicked, dropping her voice to imitate his deep, panicked shout. "You sounded like a frightened schoolboy. It is a wonder the poor man did not drop his silver tray in shock."

Rowan laughed out loud. He leaned back on his heels, holding a ledger in his hand.

"I was protecting your honor," Rowan defended himself playfully.

"You were protecting your own neck," Delaney shot back, though a tiny, reluctant smile began to tug at the corner of her lips.

They knelt there on the floor, surrounded by scattered papers, starting their familiar, comforting banter. For a few precious seconds, the heavy reality of their situation faded away. They were just Rowan and Delaney, teasing each other, hiding in the study while the rest of the world slept.

Delaney reached out to grab the last few sheets of paper resting near the leg of the desk.

As her fingers brushed against the floor, they closed over a piece of crisp, white parchment. It felt different from the thick, yellowed pages of the estate ledgers.

Delaney pulled it toward her.

Her eyes caught the neat, slanted handwriting. It was not a list of crops or tenant names. It was a formal legal letter.

She read the first few lines without meaning to.

...the danger lies in the business contract you have already signed...

Delaney stopped breathing. Her smile vanished instantly. Her eyes darted rapidly across the page, scanning the words highlighted by the solicitor.

...contingent upon the legal joining of the House of Hamilton and the House of Farrington... penalty of one million pounds...

The playful banter stopped completely. The silence that fell over the room was sharp and freezing cold.

Rowan saw her freeze. He looked down at her hands.

He recognized the crisp white parchment instantly. It was the letter from his solicitor. The letter detailing the terrible trap Lord Hawksley had built around him. He had hidden it under a ledger earlier, and she had knocked it loose.

Rowan’s playful demeanor evaporated. His face turned to stone.

"Give it here, Del," Rowan replied, his voice suddenly hard and urgent. He reached his hand out across the space between them.

Delaney wasn’t listening to him.

Her mind was racing. She read the words again. One million pounds. A forced marriage. A penalty that would ruin the Hamilton estate forever. Hawksley had not just trapped her with her father’s debt. Hawksley had trapped Rowan too. He had used the railway deal to put a legal chain around the Duke’s neck.

Rowan had signed his own ruin, he had done it to secure the land rights he thought would save his family and it was all her fault.

Delaney stood up slowly.

She did not hand him the paper. She clutched the solicitor’s letter tightly in her right hand. The silk of her robe swished around her ankles as she rose to her full height.

Rowan stood up quickly, towering over her.

"Delaney, give me the letter. It is private business."

She ignored his command. She looked up at him.

Her hazel eyes were no longer filled with embarrassment, or desire, or playful banter. They were filled with profound shock, deep hurt, and a terrible, dawning realization. She looked at the man standing before her, realizing the terrible sacrifice he was being forced to make.

She turned to Rowan fully. She held her hand up, raising the letter between them like a physical barrier.

"How long were you planning to keep this hidden?" she asked.

Her voice was not a shout. It was a soft, broken whisper that sounded incredibly loud in the silence of the study.

Rowan stared at the letter in her hand, then up at her face. He opened his mouth to explain, to tell her he had a plan, to tell her he was going to fix it.

But looking at the betrayal in her eyes, no words would come.