A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 86 - Eighty Six

Margery let out a sad, hollow chuckle. She looked back toward the dark house.

"For Rowan," Margery said simply. "He has gone through a lot of things to the point I feel guilty. I could not stay away when I knew this was his last chance to set his life right."

Delaney leaned forward slightly. "How so?"

Margery rested her arms on her velvet knees. The cigar smoke curled upward like a gray ribbon.

"His mother died when he was just a lad," Margery began, her voice taking on the soft, distant tone of a storyteller remembering a painful past. "My sister in law. She was the light of this house. When she died, the joy died with her. His father... my brother... he did not handle the grief well."

Margery took a deep breath.

"His father taught him to be the next Duke," she continued. "But he did not teach him how to be a man. He taught him that emotions were a weakness. He taught him that duty was the only thing that mattered. He drilled it into Rowan day and night. The result of that is the perfect illusion he displays to the world today. The untouchable, unflappable Golden Duke."

Delaney listened silently. She thought of Rowan’s rigid posture, his obsession with punctuality, his shiny appearance, his fear of failure. It all made a terrible, heartbreaking sense.

"Then, his father died some years later," Margery said. "Rowan became a Duke in his teenage age. Can you imagine it, Miss Kingsley? A boy of nineteen, handed the keys to a vast land, with a little sister to protect and a mountain of debts to manage."

Margery shook her head, her face filled with a fierce, protective sorrow.

"He carried the Hamilton family on his shoulders," Margery whispered. "He fixed the estates. He paid the debts. He married his sister off to a good man. And he did it all masking the burden and pain with a smile. A fake one at that."

She turned to Delaney. Her eyes were fierce. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"I know what people say about me," Margery said. Her voice was firm. "It may seem that I’m a inconsiderate woman who pushes her nephew into marriage for society values. That I am a meddling old bat who only cares about titles and heirs."

"I never thought..." Delaney started.

"No," Margery interrupted softly. "I am doing so because he needs a little push to get what he wants. He has spent his entire life doing what is expected of him. He has spent his life making sure everyone else is safe and happy. He has forgotten how to be happy himself. He doesn’t even know what he wants anymore, because he has never been allowed to ask the question."

Margery dropped the end of her cigar onto the damp grass. She stepped on it with her slipper, crushing the glowing red ember until it went completely dark.

"He needs someone who sees past the title," Margery said, looking at the crushed cigar. "He needs someone who will argue with him. Someone who will challenge him. Someone who will make him realize that he is a man, not just a marble statue in a museum."

She turned back to Delaney.

The moonlight caught the silver in Margery’s hair. She reached out. Her hand, wrinkled and warm, found Delaney’s cold hand resting in her lap.

Margery covered Delaney’s hand with her own. She squeezed it gently.

"And I’m happy I met you," Margery said.

Delaney’s breath hitched. She stared at the older woman, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

Did Margery know? Did she see the looks? Did she know?

"You made my wish come true," Margery said softly.

Delaney swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight.

"Lady Margery," Delaney whispered, her voice trembling. "I am just the matchmaker. I am here to help him."

Margery looked at her. A small, knowing, and profoundly sad smile touched the older woman’s lips.

"You are here to help him find his wife, Miss Kingsley," Margery corrected gently. "That was the contract."

She gave Delaney’s hand one last, firm squeeze.

Then, Aunt Margery let go. She stood up from the swing. The ropes groaned as the weight lifted. She pulled her velvet wrapper tight around her body, warding off the chill of the early morning.

"It is late," Margery said, looking up at the sky. "And my bones are too old for the damp. Goodnight, my dear."

"Goodnight, my lady," Delaney replied softly.

Aunt Margery turned and walked back across the gravel path. She moved slowly, a woman carrying the weight of a dying husband and a burdened nephew, yet walking with the dignity of a queen.

Delaney sat alone on the swing.

The smell of the cigar smoke lingered in the air, mixing with the cold dew on the grass.

She looked at her hand, where Margery had squeezed it. The warmth of the older woman’s touch remained.

You made my wish come true.

The words echoed in Delaney’s mind. They were a blessing. They were an absolution. But they were also a terrible reminder of the impossible situation she was in.

Rowan Hamilton was a man who had sacrificed his entire life for duty. He had worn a mask of perfection for his family. He deserved happiness. He deserved love. He deserved a woman who could stand beside him in the light.

And Delaney was a woman trapped in the dark, chained to a debt held by a monster. If she stayed, if she gave in to the feelings that were tearing her apart, she would drag Rowan down with her. Hawksley would use her past to ruin the Hamilton name. He would destroy the perfect legacy Rowan had sacrificed his youth to build.

She had to find a way out of this. She had to look for a way to change the situation and endure Lady Celine’s reputation isn’t at stake as she tries to find another bride. And then, she had to disappear, taking her ruined name and her money far away from the Golden Duke and the family she had come to care for so deeply.