A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 116 - Hundred And Sixteen

Delaney noticed that he had stopped talking. She noticed the soft, incredibly fond smile on his face, and the distant, thoughtful look in his bright brown eyes. She stopped her rant mid-sentence.

"Aren’t you going to your club?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

Her question snapped him completely out of his deep, life-changing thoughts.

He blinked rapidly. "Club..." he repeated, his voice sounding entirely blank.

He tried to recall why she was talking about a club. Then, he remembered the words he had shouted at the door for Henderson’s benefit. He had claimed he was going to the gentleman’s club to escape the house.

"Club.... Oh, my club," Rowan said, sitting up slightly. He shook his head. "No. There is no need for it anymore."

Delaney gave him a highly suspicious look. She slipped off the edge of the tall mattress. Her bare feet hit the soft carpet. She smoothed the front of her green dress once more and walked across the room.

She stopped in front of his large, freestanding dressing mirror.

Delaney looked at her reflection. She let out a small groan of despair. Her hair was an absolute, tangled disaster. The neat, perfect bun she had crafted that morning was completely destroyed. Loose strands stuck out in every direction, completely ruined by his grasping hands.

She raised her arms and began pulling out the remaining metal hairpins, letting her dark hair fall freely over her shoulders so she could start styling it all over again.

"Why?" Delaney asked, keeping her eyes on her own reflection. "Why is there no need for the club? Ten minutes ago you were ready to murder someone."

Rowan did not answer immediately. He got off the bed.

He did not bother to find a fresh shirt. He walked silently across the thick carpet, his bare feet making no sound. He came up right behind her.

Delaney saw him approaching in the mirror. Before she could turn around, Rowan wrapped his strong, bare arms completely around her waist. He pulled her back firmly against his warm, hard chest. He rested his chin gently on her shoulder, looking at her face in the glass.

"My mood has improved," Rowan murmured. His deep voice rumbled against her back, sending a fresh wave of heat straight through her body. "I am in high spirits."

He turned his head slightly and pressed a soft, warm kiss to the sensitive skin of her neck, right below her earlobe.

Delaney closed her eyes for a brief second, enjoying the feel of his lips on her skin. She dropped her hands from her hair, letting them rest over his large arms wrapped around her middle.

"Is that so?" Delaney replied softly. She opened her eyes and looked at his reflection.

Rowan looked at their combined reflection in the mirror. He saw the dark-haired, fierce woman standing safely in the arms of the bare-chested Duke. They looked right together. They looked like they belonged.

But as he stared at the glass, the playful, romantic mood slowly faded away. The harsh reality of the outside world, the locked contracts, and the dangerous enemies waiting in the shadows crept back into his mind.

Rowan lifted his head from her shoulder. He stood up straight, though he did not let go of her waist. He spoke, his voice turning incredibly serious and entirely focused.

"Carcel is coming back in two days," Rowan announced.

Delaney stopped moving. She looked at his serious brown eyes in the mirror. The mention of the Duke of Carleton meant that playtime was truly over. It meant business.

"That’s when the Farringtons will be leaving," Delaney replied carefully. Her voice was equally serious now. Lady Farrington had announced that morning they would return to their country estate to prepare for the wedding.

"Yes," Rowan replied. His jaw tightened slightly. "He sent a message to Simmons this morning by a fast rider. He has found a main lead in London."

Delaney felt a sudden, massive surge of hope in her chest. If Carcel had proof of Hawksley’s frauds, they could break the contract. They could break the chains.

"Everything will be over soon," Rowan promised, holding her a little tighter. "We will end this."

Delaney nodded slowly. She processed the information. It was wonderful news. But there was still a massive problem standing in their way, and it was a problem created by Rowan’s own stubborn pride.

"Thank you for telling me," Delaney said quietly. She turned her head to look at his reflection again. "But when will you tell your family?"

Rowan’s eyes darted away from hers in the mirror. He looked down at the carpet. He did not answer.

Delaney turned around within the circle of his arms. She faced him completely, forcing him to look at her.

"Rowan," Delaney pressed, her tone firm but gentle. "Don’t tell me you plan on carrying this burden on your own. You cannot fight Lord Hawksley and a legal marriage contract entirely by yourself."

Rowan remained silent. His broad shoulders grew tense. He hated the idea of worrying his sister. He hated the idea of Aunt Margery knowing that he had failed to read the fine print of a business deal. He was meant to be the protector. He was not supposed to need protecting.

Delaney, now completely calm and well dressed, looked up at the stubborn, powerful man. She saw the heavy weight of his duty pulling him down.

She raised her hands. She reached up and gently caressed his face. She rested her soft palms against his hard cheeks, forcing him to keep his head up.

"That is exactly why they are your family," Delaney said softly, her hazel eyes searching his. "They are not here just to attend your parties and spend your money. They give you strength to continue. They help in their own way. Ines is incredibly smart. Aunt Margery sees everything. Carcel is already risking his safety for you in the city."

Rowan swallowed hard. The touch of her hands on his face was incredibly soothing, but her words challenged everything he had been taught since he was a young boy.

"You have a good and loving family, Rowan," Delaney continued, her voice filled with deep, genuine emotion. "Do not keep something as important as this from them. They deserve to know the truth about the Farringtons. They deserve to help you fight. Stop handling things alone."

She moved her thumbs, brushing them gently over his cheekbones.

"Don’t be the Shiny, Golden Duke with them," Delaney pleaded. "Don’t pretend everything is perfect when your world is falling apart. I tried so hard to break that persona over the last few weeks. I fought you in the drawing room, I fought you on the croquet lawn, and I fought you in the study to make you act like a real, feeling man."

She offered him a small, sad smile.

"Don’t let my efforts go to waste," Delaney whispered. "Let them help you."

Rowan stared down at her.

He saw the fierce loyalty shining in her eyes. He saw that she was not judging his failure; she was offering him a lifeline. She was entirely right. He had spent his whole life building walls to protect his family, but those same walls were now keeping them out. It was time to tear them down.

Rowan let out a long, heavy breath. The rigid tension finally left his spine. He leaned his face into her hands, accepting her comfort and her wise counsel.

Rowan nodded his head slowly.

"Okay," Rowan said. His voice was quiet, but it was incredibly firm. "I will tell them. As soon as Carcel returns, I will gather the family and tell them everything."

Delaney felt a massive weight lift off her own shoulders. She smiled brightly. Her eyes crinkled with genuine happiness.

She moved her hand up from his cheek. She reached up and playfully ruffled the dark, messy hair on the top of his head, messing it up even further.

"Good boy," Delaney praised him lightly, using the tone one might use for a very large, very stubborn, but ultimately well-behaved dog.

Rowan’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at the cheeky insult to his dignity. Then, looking at her joyful face, the great Duke of Ford could not help himself.

Rowan smiled. It was a full, bright, completely unrestrained smile that reached his eyes and banished the shadows from the room entirely.