A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 75 - Seventy Five

The breakfast room at Hamilton House was usually a place of solitude. Rowan liked his morning coffee in silence, reading the Times and ignoring the world until at least nine o’clock.

Delaney knew this. It was in her notebook under Section 4: Shiny Duke’s Habits.

So, when she descended the back stairs at eight twenty-seven, she expected to be alone. She was exactly three minutes early for the designated "family breakfast" time. She wanted three minutes to breathe, to pour tea, and to compose her face before facing the man who had held her while she fell apart.

She smoothed the skirt of her beige dress. It was soft wool, comforting and dull. She tightened her shawl.

Just breathe, she told herself.

She pushed open the door to the breakfast room.

She stopped.

Rowan was there.

He was standing by the sideboard, a cup of coffee in his hand. He wasn’t reading the paper. He was staring out the window at the garden, his back to the door. He wore a dark green morning coat that made his shoulders look impossibly broad.

He turned as soon as the latch clicked.

"Good morning, Your Grace," Delaney said. Her voice was steady, though her heart gave a traitorous little jump. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Rowan looked at her. His eyes were clear and searching. He looked tired, but alert. He set his cup down on the saucer with a soft clink.

"Miss Kingsley," he replied.

Delaney walked to her position at the table. She pulled out her chair. She noticed that the table was set for eight, but the room felt intimately small with just the two of them.

She sat down. She folded her hands in her lap to hide the fact that they were trembling slightly.

"How are you?" Rowan asked. His voice was low. He remained standing, watching her. "Are you feeling better?"

Delaney looked at the tablecloth. She traced the pattern of a damask rose with her eyes.

"I am fine," Delaney said. She gave a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "The headache has passed. Sarah brought me water."

She took a breath. She couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t sobbed into his neck.

"Yesterday..." she started, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m sorry I..."

Rowan cut in immediately.

He didn’t let her finish. He didn’t let her apologize for her pain. He didn’t let her feel shame.

"Lady Celine’s uncle wants me to sign a document," Rowan said loudly, interrupting her.

He walked towards the table, pulled a chair out and sat down opposite her, leaning forward. His face was all business, but his eyes were kind. He was giving her an out. He was changing the subject to save her dignity.

"He wants to ensure I marry her before proceeding with our original business plan," Rowan continued. "He calls it an ’addendum.’ It ties the railway shares to the wedding vows. If I do not marry her, I lose the deal. And I pay a penalty."

Delaney blinked. The professional part of her brain, the part that had been dormant under the fear, snapped back to life.

"A penalty?" she asked.

"A large one," Rowan confirmed. "What do you suggest I do, Miss Kingsley?"

He asked it sincerely. He wasn’t just making conversation. He was asking for her counsel.

Delaney straightened her spine. This she could do. Strategy she understood. Feelings were messy, but contracts were logic.

"Don’t sign anything yet," Delaney replied firmly.

She looked him in the eye.

"It is a trap," she said. "If the railway deal was already signed, this addendum is coercion. Why does he need insurance? Is there something wrong with the bride? Is there something wrong with the shares?"

"He says he is just being thorough," Rowan said.

"He is being predatory," Delaney corrected. "Investigate the document before doing anything. Read the fine print. And investigate him."

She paused. She couldn’t tell him why to investigate Hawksley—not yet. She couldn’t tell him about her father. But she could warn him.

"You will still court Lady Celine," Delaney advised. "You must smile. You must dance. You must look like a man in love. Do so as to not draw suspicion. If Hawksley thinks you are hesitating, he will strike. But if he thinks you are smitten, he will wait."

"Something is fishy in that family," Delaney added softly.

Rowan looked at her. He saw the flash of fear in her hazel eyes, quickly hidden behind the mask of the matchmaker. He nodded slowly.

"Very well then," Rowan said. "I will play the part. I will be the perfect suitor."

He reached for the toast rack.

"But Miss Kingsley?" he added quietly.

"Yes, Your Grace?"

"If you ever need to... rest again," he said, choosing his words carefully. "You do not need to apologize. Not to me."

Delaney felt a lump form in her throat. She nodded, unable to speak.

Just then, the double doors swung open.

The spell was broken. The family started coming in for breakfast.

First came Aunt Margery. She was wearing a morning gown of bright yellow silk that was far too cheerful for the hour. Fifi trotted at her heels, wearing a matching yellow ribbon.

"Good morning, darlings!" Margery boomed. "Oh, the sun is shining! The birds are singing! And Fifi tried to bite the gardener!"

She flopped into her chair.

"Miss Kingsley!" Margery cried. "You are up! You look pale. Like a ghost in beige. Are you well?"

"I am much better, thank you, Lady Margery," Delaney said, forcing a smile.

Ines entered next. She looked impeccable in a dress of dark green. She walked to the sideboard and inspected the eggs.

"Miss Kingsley," Ines said over her shoulder. "I trust you slept well? The West Wing can be drafty."

"Very well, thank you, Your Grace," Delaney lied.

Then came the guests.

Lady Farrington swept in, looking regal in purple. Lady Celine followed, looking like a fresh daisy in pink.

"Good morning, Your Grace," Lady Farrington said to Rowan. She curtsied.

"Good morning, Your Grace," Celine whispered shyly.

Rowan stood up. "Ladies. Please, sit."

The footmen began to serve coffee and tea. The room filled with the clatter of silverware and the smell of poached eggs.

Rowan looked around the table. He counted heads.

Aunt Margery. Ines. Delaney. The Farringtons.

There was an empty chair next to Ines.

Rowan frowned. Carcel never missed breakfast.

"Where’s Carcel?" Rowan asked.