A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 142 - Hundred And Forty Two

"Good morning, Aunt," Delaney greeted as she stepped into the circle of lantern light. She offered a polite, respectful bow of her head.

Aunt Margery turned and smiled warmly. The older woman reached out and gently squeezed Delaney’s gloved hand.

"Good morning, my dear," Aunt Margery replied, her voice filled with genuine affection. "Did you sleep well? I know it is an ungodly hour to be awake."

Delaney replied with a small, polite smile. "I did, thank you. The bed in the Blue Suite is very comfortable and the room was warm."

Rowan kept his eyes on her. He wanted to step forward, pull her into his heavy greatcoat, and warm her cold cheeks with his hands. But he restrained himself. The footmen were standing right there, holding the carriage door open. They had to maintain the proper boundaries in front of the staff.

"Are we ready?" Rowan asked, his voice a deep, steady rumble that cut through the morning mist.

"We are, Your Grace," the head footman answered with a quick bow.

Rowan nodded. He turned to Aunt Margery, leaning down to press a quick, affectionate kiss to her cheek.

"Keep the house safe, Aunt," Rowan instructed softly. "Do not let Lord Farrington or his messengers intimidate you if they come calling."

"Let them try," Aunt Margery scoffed lightly, waving a dismissive hand. "I shall set Fifi on them. Safe travels, Rowan. Be careful."

Rowan turned and stepped up into the dark cabin of the carriage. He moved with easy grace, taking his seat on the plush velvet cushions inside.

The footman remained by the open door, holding his hand out to assist the lady.

Delaney stepped forward. She reached out, preparing to place her gloved hand into the footman’s waiting grasp.

As Delaney wanted to get in, Aunt Margery reached out suddenly.

Aunt Margery stopped her. She placed her warm hand firmly on Delaney’s forearm, holding her back from the carriage steps.

"Delaney," Aunt Margery said.

The older woman did not say ’Miss Kingsley.’ She did not use her formal, polite title. She used her first name, speaking it with a deep, personal familiarity that made Delaney’s heart skip a beat.

Delaney stopped moving. She turned her head, looking at the older woman with wide, curious hazel eyes.

"Yes, Aunt?" Delaney replied softly. The title felt incredibly natural on her tongue now.

Aunt Margery stepped a fraction closer. She looked deeply into Delaney’s eyes. The cheerful, gossip-loving society matron was completely gone. In her place was a very serious, very wise woman who saw the world exactly as it was.

Aunt Margery spoke, her voice dropping to a low, private murmur that the footmen could not hear.

"When you come back," Aunt Margery said slowly, making sure Delaney heard every single word, "after the ball, I need to discuss something with you."

Delaney felt a sudden, sharp spike of panic in her chest.

Her mind raced instantly to the worst possible conclusions. Did Aunt Margery regret welcoming her into the family circle? Did she realize that a disgraced Baron’s daughter was an inappropriate companion for the Duke of Ford? Was she planning to dismiss her the moment the Farrington mess was solved and the contract was broken? Will she pay her the remaining money?

Delaney swallowed hard. Her fingers tightened nervously on the handle of her small travel bag.

She asked, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed fear. "Is there any problem, my lady?"

Aunt Margery saw the sudden flash of fear in the young woman’s eyes. She understood immediately what Delaney was thinking. She knew the heavy burden of insecurity Delaney carried because of her ruined past.

Aunt Margery’s stern expression melted away completely. A very warm, very gentle smile spread across her wrinkled face. She lifted her hand and gently patted Delaney’s cold cheek.

"Oh no. Not at all," Aunt Margery replied, her voice incredibly soothing and full of reassurance. "There is absolutely no problem, my dear."

She squeezed Delaney’s arm one last time, offering a comforting pressure.

"Don’t worry about a thing," Aunt Margery promised softly. "Just focus on helping Rowan today. We will have our talk when you return. It is a good talk, I assure you."

The heavy weight of panic instantly lifted from Delaney’s chest. The genuine warmth in Aunt Margery’s eyes told her the truth. She was not going to be cast out into the cold streets. She was not going to be dismissed.

Delaney smiled. It was a bright, beautiful smile of pure relief.

"I understand," Delaney whispered. "Thank you."

She turned back to the carriage. The footman offered his hand again. Delaney took it, lifting the heavy gray wool of her skirts with her other hand, and stepped up into the dark, enclosed cabin of the traveling carriage.

The door shut behind her with a loud, final click.

Delaney settled onto the soft velvet seat facing forward. Rowan was sitting opposite her, his long legs taking up a considerable amount of space in the small cabin. He looked at her, his eyes searching her face in the dim light. He had seen Aunt Margery stop her, and he wondered what the older woman had said to make Delaney smile so brightly.

But before Rowan could ask, the driver up on the box cracked his whip.

"Walk on!" the driver shouted.

The carriage lurched forward. The heavy wooden wheels began to turn, crunching loudly over the gravel courtyard. They rolled past the stone pillars, leaving the warmth and safety of Hamilton House behind.

In some minutes, the carriage began to move faster. The horses broke into a steady, ground-eating trot. They passed through the tall iron gates of the estate and turned onto the main country road. The thick morning mist swirled around the windows, hiding the world outside in a blanket of gray.

Delaney leaned back against the cushions, looking across the small space at the Duke of Ford before turning her gaze to the window, watching the scenes pass by before sleep claimed her.