A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 71 - Seventy One

TWENTY YEARS AGO...

The sky over London was not merely dark; it was angry.

It was a night where the heavens had opened up to drown the earth. Rain did not fall; it lashed against the cobblestones in sheets of gray steel. Thunder cracked like a whip, shaking the very foundations of the townhouse in Mayfair.

Inside, the air was thick with panic.

"Come, Delaney. Quickly," Arthur Kingsley said.

His voice was tight. It was laced with a worry that a seven-year-old Delaney had never heard before. Her father was usually a man of laughter, a man who smelled of tobacco and old paper. Tonight, he smelled of fear.

He grabbed her small hand. His grip was hard, almost painful.

"What is going on, my love?" Genevieve, Delaney’s mother, asked. She spoke in French, her native tongue, which she always used when her heart was racing. "Qu’est-ce qui se passe?"

She was clutching a small travel bag to her chest, her dark hair wet from the damp air of the hallway.

Arthur turned to her. His face was pale in the flickering gaslight.

"There is no time, Gen," Arthur replied, pulling his coat tighter around his neck. "We have to leave. Now. The carriage is waiting in the courtyard."

"But the storm..." Genevieve protested, looking at the door as the wind howled against it.

"The storm inside London is worse than the one outside," Arthur said grimly.

He scooped Delaney up into his arms. She was small for her age, a little bird with wide hazel eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his rough woolen collar.

They ran out into the night.

The rain hit them instantly. It was cold and heavy, soaking through their clothes in seconds. They hurried toward the black carriage waiting in the shadows of the mews.

The horses were stamping their hooves, their eyes wide and white with nervousness.

The driver, a loyal man named John, was hunched over on the box, struggling to hold the reins against the wind.

"Go, John!" Arthur shouted as he threw the door open. "To the coast! Don’t stop for anything!"

They scrambled into the carriage. The door slammed shut, sealing them into a box of dark leather and velvet.

The carriage lurched forward. Thomas cracked the whip, and the horses took off, their hooves striking sparks against the wet stones.

Inside, the noise of the storm was muffled, but the tension was deafening.

Delaney sat between her parents. She watched as they conversed in hushed, frantic tones.

"Arthur," Genevieve spoke, gripping his arm. Her knuckles were white. "What is going on? The royal guards came here two days ago to take you for questioning. You said it was a misunderstanding. And now you return today to take us in what seems like a run."

Arthur looked at her. He looked at his wife, the love of his life, and the pain in his eyes was unbearable.

"I have to make sure you and Delaney are safe," Arthur replied. He ran a hand through his wet hair. "I was framed, Gen. Framed for fraud against the Crown. Someone cooked the ledgers."

Genevieve gasped. "Fraud? But we would never do such a thing to the Crown. We have plenty."

"It isn’t about the money," Arthur said darkly. "It is about ruin. They want to destroy the Kingsley name."

He reached into his coat pocket and patted a thick envelope hidden there.

"I have evidence of my innocence," Arthur whispered. "I found the real ledger. But I cannot go to the authorities yet. Not until I know you two are safe in France. Once you are on the boat... then I will submit my evidence to the court tomorrow."

Delaney looked up at him. She didn’t understand words like "fraud" or "evidence." She only understood that her papa was sad.

"Papa," Delaney spoke, her voice small. "Is everything okay?"

Arthur looked down. His expression softened instantly. He forced a smile onto his face, masking the terror.

He lifted Little Delaney onto his lap. He wrapped his large coat around her shivering form.

"I’m fine, my little flower," Arthur said. "Everything is going to be fine."

Delaney looked at him with big eyes. "You were away for long?"

"Two days," Arthur said. "It felt like a lifetime."

"Did you miss me?" Delaney asked innocently.

Arthur smiled, but his eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"Did I miss you?" he whispered. "I missed you every time I breathed."

He touched her cheek with his thumb.

"I’m sorry, Delaney," Arthur said seriously. "I am sorry I frightened you. I’ll be with you at all times from now. I won’t leave you again."

Delaney hugged him tight. She breathed in his scent, feeling safe in the circle of his arms.

"Promise?" she said.

Arthur kissed the top of her head.

"I promise."

The carriage rattled as they left the paved streets of London and hit the muddy country roads. The rain was falling harder now, turning the dirt track into a river of sludge.

They were going too fast. The carriage swayed violently from side to side.

"Arthur," Genevieve whispered. "We are going too fast."

"John knows what he is doing," Arthur said, though he gripped the strap of the window.

Outside, in the dark, the rain slashed against the wood.

Suddenly, there was a sound.

SNAP.

It wasn’t the sound of thunder. It was the sharp, metallic sound of leather and iron failing.

The harness holding the carriage to the lead horse snapped.

It hadn’t worn out. It had been cut. It had been sabotaged, sliced halfway through so it would hold for a few miles, and then fail when the strain was greatest.

The carriage lost its anchor.

The horses, freed from the weight but still attached by the tangled reins, panicked. They bolted.

John, the driver, screamed.

Delaney heard the scream. It was cut short by a sickening thud as the horses veered sharply to the left, dragging the driver off the box.

John was thrown against the trunk of a massive oak tree at the side of the road. His body hit the wood with a crack that sounded like a gunshot. He fell into the mud and did not move in what felt like forever. (He died.)

The carriage, now driverless and detached from the power of the horses, carried its own momentum.

It careened off the road.

It hit the soft, muddy shoulder. The wheels lost their grip.

"Hold on!" Arthur roared. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

The world tilted.

The carriage went over the edge of the steep embankment.

It began to tumble.

"Delaney!!!" Genevieve shouted. It was a scream of pure, maternal terror.

The world became a spinning wheel of wood, glass, and iron.

Crash!

The roof hit the ground.

Smash!

The windows exploded inward, showering them with razor-sharp glass.

Crunch!

The frame twisted.

Inside, Arthur and Genevieve did not try to save themselves. They threw their bodies over Delaney. They became a human shield, taking the blows, the impacts, the crushing weight of the tumbling vehicle.

Delaney felt herself being tossed. She felt her father’s arms clamp around her. She felt her mother’s body press against her back.

Then, a final, earth-shattering impact.

The carriage slammed into the bottom of the ravine. It landed on its side, groaning like a dying beast.

Silence.

For a long minute, there was only the sound of the rain hissing against the broken wheels.

Delaney opened her eyes. It was dark. She was lying on the ceiling of the carriage, which was now the floor.

She felt a sharp, stinging pain. A jagged piece of metal had sliced through the back of her dress, carving a deep gash into her skin. It was the mark she would carry forever—a scar on her back.

But she was alive.

She pushed herself up. Her head was spinning. Warm blood trickled down her forehead into her eyes, blinding her for a moment. She wiped it away with a shaking hand.

"Papa?" she whispered.

Arthur was lying next to her. His eyes were open. He was staring at the broken lantern on the floor.

But he wasn’t blinking.

His neck was bent at an angle that looked wrong. Unnatural.

Delaney crawled over to him. Her small hands shook the man lying dead in the carriage.

"Papa," she said, her voice trembling. "Wake up. You promised."

He didn’t move. He didn’t smile. The man who had promised to be with her at all times was gone.

"Papa!" Delaney cried. She shook his shoulder harder. "Papa, please!"

Tears began to stream down her face, mixing with the blood and the dirt.

Then, she heard a sound.

A low groan.

"Delaney..."