A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 183 - Hundred And Eighty Three

Delaney looked at the flustered young maid, her voice completely calm despite the beating of her heart.

"Thank you, Sarah," Delaney said gently. "You may go."

Sarah nodded her head rapidly, her cheeks still burning a bright pink. She quickly stepped back into the hallway and pulled the door tightly shut, leaving the Duke and the matchmaker alone once more.

The moment the door clicked shut, the warm air in the room turned to ice.

Rowan sat right on the edge of the mattress, ignoring the sharp, pulling pain in his head. His eyes were hard, calculating, and entirely furious.

"What is he doing here?" Rowan demanded. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that completely filled the quiet room.

Delaney took a deep, steadying breath. She smoothed the dark fabric of her traveling dress with her hands. She did not look frightened. Instead, a cold, hard resolve settled over her features.

Delaney replied, her tone completely factual. "To take me back, obviously."

Rowan narrowed his eyes. His mind immediately saw the flaw in the situation.

"There is something fishy," He replied, his jaw clenching tightly. He looked directly at her. "It is one thing to go there on your own. You are a grown woman. But it is another thing entirely for him to travel all this way to take you back himself. A greedy, lazy man like your uncle does not leave his comfortable country estate unless he is being forced or paid to do so."

Delaney knew he was absolutely right. Cole Kingsley was a coward. He only moved when money or powerful men were involved.

Delaney smiled. It was not her usual warm, beautiful smile. It was a very small, incredibly sharp smile that completely lacked any humor.

"It is fine," Delaney assured him softly. She took a step closer to the bed. "Do you have a dueling pistol?"

Rowan froze. The sharp thoughts in his head completely stopped. He stared at the quiet, gentle woman standing before him.

Rowan blinked, his thick eyebrows pulling together in utter bewilderment. "Pardon?"

Delaney nodded her head firmly. Her hazel eyes were entirely serious. "A dueling pistol."

Rowan stared at her for another long second. He was certainly not used to the woman he loves casually asking for a deadly weapon before breakfast.

Rowan replied, his voice laced with pure disbelief. "A dueling pistol?"

Delaney nodded again, maintaining perfect eye contact.

"Whatever for?" Rowan asked. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to understand what she was planning to do.

Delaney replied, her voice cool and completely steady. "To deal with him."

She walked right up to the edge of the mattress. She smiled, her expression softening just a fraction for the man she loved. She reached out her small hand and gently caressed his bruised cheek.

"I know you have one kept somewhere in this room," Delaney said smoothly, her thumb brushing his jaw. "During Ines’s season, when she was pursued by the Duke of Carleton, I am completely sure you had one ready. You were a very protective brother. You had one especially against Duke Carcel, right?"

Rowan let out a heavy sigh. A tiny, reluctant smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. She was entirely too clever. She knew exactly how his protective mind worked.

Rowan replied, "Yes, I have one. But..."

"I need it," Delaney interrupted him. Her voice left absolutely no room for debate. She dropped her hand from his face. "I am walking back into a house with the man who paid to murder my parents. I will not go unarmed." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Rowan looked into her eyes. He saw the fierce, unyielding determination shining there. She was not a helpless orphan anymore. She is now the rightful Baroness of the Kingsley estate, and she was going to war.

Rowan did not argue with her. He stood up from the bed.

He walked slowly toward a massive, heavy wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room. He reached behind a row of dark coats and pressed a hidden wooden panel. A small, secret drawer slid open.

Rowan reached inside and brought out a polished, dark box.

He carried the box back to the bed and opened it. Resting inside, lined with soft green velvet, was a beautiful, silver-barreled dueling pistol. It was small enough to conceal, but deadly enough to stop a large man in his tracks.

Rowan carefully lifted the heavy metal weapon. He checked the firing mechanism and ensured the small lead ball was properly loaded. He turned the handle toward her and held it out.

Delaney did not hesitate. She took the cold, heavy metal pistol from his hand.

She turned slightly away from him. Without a single blush of shame, Delaney raised the hem of her dark traveling dress, exposing her white stockings. She slipped the silver barrel of the pistol securely into the tight lace of her garter, resting it flat against her thigh so it would not be seen.

She lowered her dress quickly, letting the heavy fabric fall perfectly back into place. No one would ever suspect the quiet matchmaker was carrying a loaded gun.

She turned back to Rowan. She stepped up onto her toes, placed her hands on his broad shoulders, and gave Rowan a quick, firm kiss on the lips.

"Don’t come out," Delaney instructed him, her voice a soft but strict whisper. She looked directly into his worried brown eyes. "Remember, you are still indisposed. Lord Farrington’s spies are watching this house. If you walk downstairs looking strong, their entire plan will shift. Trust me, Rowan. I will take care of it."

Rowan hated the idea of letting her walk down those stairs alone. He wanted to march into the drawing room and throw Cole Kingsley out into the street himself. But he knew she was right. He had to play his part, and she had to face her past.

Rowan nodded his head slowly. "Be careful, Del."

"Always," Delaney promised.

She turned and walked out of the master bedchamber.

The hallway was entirely silent. Delaney walked with slow, measured steps toward the grand staircase. Her soft slippers made no sound on the thick carpet. She felt the heavy, cold weight of the pistol pressing against her thigh with every step she took. It did not frighten her; it gave her an incredible sense of control.

She descended the marble stairs, holding her head high.

As she got to the wooden door of the drawing room, she stopped. The door was slightly cracked open, allowing a thin slice of light to spill out onto the foyer floor.

Delaney stood perfectly still in the shadows. She heard her uncle’s voice coming from the other side of the door.

"She has been missing for three years," Cole Kingsley said. His voice was loud, attempting to sound like a deeply grieving, highly concerned guardian. "We have searched absolutely everywhere, My Lady. We spared no expense. But we couldn’t find her."

Inside the drawing room, Aunt Margery sat perfectly straight on the edge of a velvet sofa. She held a delicate porcelain teacup in her hands.

She took a slow, deliberate sip of her hot tea and lowered the cup, the china clinking softly against the saucer. She looked at Cole Kingsley with a completely flat, entirely unimpressed expression.

"How did you know to find her here?" Aunt Margery asked. Her voice was sharp, cutting through his fake sentiment perfectly. "We did not announce her employment to the Ton."