A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 90 - Ninety

"I haven’t seen Harry all day," Celine said, her voice artificially bright. She looked back at Ines with wide, innocent eyes. "Where is he? I was hoping to see him in his little walking coat."

Ines understood the deflection. She allowed it, though she filed the information about the bruise away in her mind to discuss with Rowan later. She smiled warmly at the mention of her young son.

"He’s with Edith in the nursery," Ines replied, smoothing her green skirts as they resumed their walk toward the bowling green. "She is reading him a very long, very loud story about farm animals. That’s how I have time to do things that I want to do. If I brought him down here, he would undoubtedly try to put the wooden bowling balls into his mouth, or throw them at my aunt’s dog."

Celine let out a real, soft laugh this time. The terrible tension in her narrow shoulders relaxed just a fraction.

"He’s such a cute boy," Celine replied wistfully. She looked out over the grass, a deep sadness entering her eyes. "He looks so happy. You have a beautiful family, Your Grace."

Ines smiled proudly, her heart swelling with affection. "He is. He is the light of my life. And he is so stubborn, just like his father."

As Ines spoke of Carcel, she looked across the wide expanse of the lawn.

Her older brother, Rowan, was standing near the wooden bowls. He was the host, the man of the hour, the highly sought-after bachelor. Yet, he looked nothing like a happy man about to secure a beautiful bride.

He looked like a man standing on the gallows, waiting for the trapdoor to open.

His jaw was clenched so tightly that Ines could see the muscle ticking in his cheek from fifty paces away. His large hands were clasped firmly behind his back, his knuckles white. He was staring blankly at the short green grass, completely ignoring Lady Farrington, who was currently talking loudly about the weather.

Ines sighed inwardly. Rowan was a fool. A brilliant, wealthy, powerful fool.

Then, Ines’s sharp gaze shifted slightly to the left.

She noticed Delaney not participating.

Miss Kingsley was standing near a large, ornate stone urn filled with blooming pink geraniums. She was deliberately positioning herself as far away from Rowan as the social gathering would allow. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Delaney was wearing a plain, dark blue day dress with absolutely no trim, no ribbons, and no lace. She had pulled her dark hair back into a bun so severe it looked painful. She was not talking to Aunt Margery. She was not watching the servants set up the game.

She was simply standing there, clutching her hands in front of her waist. She looked terribly pale, completely exhausted, and utterly, profoundly miserable.

Ines stopped walking again. She frowned, her perfectly shaped eyebrows drawing together in a V shape of displeasure.

Yesterday, Delaney Kingsley had been a magnificent force of nature. She had laughed with her whole body. She had shouted in triumph. She had destroyed Rowan at Pall Mall with a terrifying, joyful ruthlessness that Ines had deeply admired.

Today, the gray, invisible mouse was back. Delaney looked smaller, sadder, and entirely broken.

Ines made a rapid decision. She was the Duchess of Carleton, she was a Hamilton by blood, and she absolutely refused to let the people she cared about stand around her garden looking like they were attending a funeral.

She turned back to Celine.

"If you would excuse me..." Ines said politely, giving the young girl a graceful, practiced nod.

"Of course, Your Grace," Celine replied instantly, dipping into a quick curtsy. Celine actually looked immensely relieved to be left alone, turning her face away from the bright sun to ensure her powdered cheek remained hidden in the shadow of her bonnet.

Ines picked up the heavy silk skirts of her bright green dress and marched straight across the lawn. She did not stroll. She did not glide. She walked with the heavy, purposeful boots of a woman on a mission.

Delaney did not see the Duchess coming. She was entirely lost in her own dark, suffocating thoughts. She was thinking about the massive, crushing debt. She was thinking about the evil, scarred face of Lord Hawksley. And, most painfully of all, she was thinking about the fact that she had to stand here, in her plain blue dress, and watch this man court a girl in yellow silk. She felt sick to her stomach. She just wanted to go back to her room and lie on her bed.

"Are you alright, Miss Kingsley?"

The loud, clear voice cut through the air, right next to Delaney’s ear.

Delaney gasped and spun around, her hand flying to her chest. She quickly smoothed her plain blue skirts, blinking rapidly to clear the sadness from her eyes. She forced her spine straight, desperately trying to look like the professional, unfeeling matchmaker she was supposed to be.

"I am," Delaney replied quickly. She gave a tight, unconvincing smile that looked more like a grimace. "Good morning, Your Grace. The garden looks... exceptionally lovely today."

Ines stopped directly in front of her. She crossed her arms firmly over her chest. She did not return the fake smile. Instead, she inspected Delaney from the top of her severe bun down to the tips of her sensible black boots.

"You aren’t as energetic as you were yesterday," Ines replied flatly. She tilted her head to the side, her dark eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Yesterday you were ready to conquer the entire world with a wooden croquet mallet. You were practically glowing. Today you look like you want to climb inside this stone urn and pull the dirt over your head."

Delaney looked down at the grass, unable to meet the Duchess’s piercing gaze. "I am simply observing today, Your Grace. It is my job to observe."

Ines stepped closer, invading Delaney’s personal space. She lowered her voice, her tone turning from conversational to fiercely protective.

"Is anything the problem?" Ines asked softly. Then, a highly specific suspicion formed in her sharp mind. "Did my brother say something to you?"