A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 95 - Ninety Five

The silence in the room was heavy and suffocating. No one believed the correction.

Aunt Margery sat up straight on the sofa. She placed Fifi on the cushion next to her. She looked at her nephew with a deeply stern expression. She had to protect the situation before Lady Farrington exploded.

"Rowan," Aunt Margery spoke, her voice carrying a sharp warning tone. "I hope you aren’t making fun of our dear cousin. Calling her a mouse in front of guests is hardly appropriate behavior for a Duke."

Rowan looked at Delaney. He saw the deep embarrassment staining her cheeks. He saw how she was staring at him with confusion. The sight physically pained him. He could not let them think he was insulting her.

Rowan interrupted his aunt, taking a bold step forward.

"I would never do that," Rowan said.

His voice was no longer strained. It was deep, firm, and filled with absolute sincerity. He looked directly at Delaney, entirely ignoring Lady Farrington and Celine.

"I would never make fun of her," Rowan continued, his words slow and deliberate. "She is a very valuable person. Far too valuable to be made fun of."

He held Delaney’s gaze for a long moment, pouring all his unspoken apologies and hidden feelings into those words.

You are valuable. You are important to me.

Delaney swallowed hard. Her hazel eyes locked with his.

Aunty Margery watched the exchange. She saw the intensity in her nephew’s eyes. She nodded slowly, satisfied with his defense.

"Good," Aunty Margery said, breaking the spell. She patted her dress and turned her head back to Lady Farrington. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, the wedding breakfast. I insist on imported fruit."

Lady Farrington forced a tight smile, though she cast a highly suspicious glare at Delaney. "Of course, Lady Margery. Imported fruit."

The crisis was narrowly averted. But the atmosphere in the room had shifted permanently.

Ines smirked. She tapped her pencil against her chin. She had seen the slip. She had seen the defense. She felt the sudden, irresistible urge to disturb Rowan even further. He needed to be pushed out of his perfectly controlled shell.

"Well," Ines announced loudly, clapping her hands. "It is our turn, Miss Kingsley. Prepare yourself."

Ines walked to the silver bowl. She drew a slip of paper. She read it, smiled her wicked smile, and walked to the center of the Persian rug.

It was her turn to act.

Ines did not look at Delaney. She looked straight at Rowan.

She stood perfectly straight, puffing out her chest to mimic a tall, broad-shouldered man. She raised her left wrist and tapped imaginary glass on an invisible pocket watch. She tapped it once, twice, three times, her face set in a deep, exaggerated scowl of impatience.

Then, she began to pace. She took long, rigid, marching strides back and forth across the rug. She stopped, threw her hands up in the air in mock frustration, and pointed angrily at an imaginary grandfather clock. She tapped her foot rapidly on the floor.

It was a flawless, hilarious imitation of a man utterly obsessed with punctuality.

Delaney watched Ines. She recognized the posture immediately. It was the exact way Rowan had stood in the foyer when they were waiting for the carriage to take them to the Farrington ball and the railway consortium. It was the exact way he scowled when someone was two minutes late.

Without thinking, Delaney quickly answered.

"His Grace!" Delaney shouted, pointing at Rowan.

Ines stopped pacing.

For a second, there was silence. Then, Ines let out a muffled laughter. She slapped her hand over her mouth, but the sound escaped anyway. It turned into a full, blown-out laugh that echoed through the drawing room.

"She got you, Rowan!" Ines laughed, bending over slightly holding her stomach. "She is indeed correct! The paper said ’a time-obsessed person’, but I think we all know who the true model is."

Rowan looked at his sister, then at Delaney.

Instead of being angry, Rowan actually smiled. It was a rare, genuine smile that transformed his handsome face, making him look years younger.

"Well," Rowan said smoothly, crossing his arms and lifting his chin with mock arrogance. "I am not ashamed of my personality. Being aware of the time is not a crime. In fact, it is a great asset to the society. Punctuality is the courtesy of kings."

Ines cleaned a tear that formed in the corner of her eye when she was laughing hard. She shook her head at her brother’s proud defense.

"Indeed, brother," Ines said, still chuckling. "Indeed. You are a gift to the nation."

Even Celine smiled softly at the exchange, though Lady Farrington simply rolled her eyes. The tension in the room broke, replaced by the warm, teasing banter of siblings.

For a brief, shining moment, Delaney felt like she was part of the family. She had shared a joke. She had guessed right. She felt a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt since the day before after her conversation with Aunt Margery.

But the happiness was fragile, and it was about to be shattered completely.

The heavy double doors of the drawing room swung open.

Mr. Simmons stepped into the room. He walked with his usual slow, measured pace, stopping just a few feet inside the doorway. His face was a mask of professional blankness, but there was a strange, tight look around his eyes.

"Forgive me for the interruption," Simmons announced, bowing his head slightly.

He did not look at Rowan. He did not look at Lady Farrington. He looked directly at the Duchess of Carleton.

He was addressing Ines.

"A guest is here for you, Your Grace," Simmons said formally.

Ines raised an eyebrow. "For me? I was not expecting anyone by this time, Simmons. Who is it?"

Simmons stood perfectly straight. He cleared his throat.

"A gentleman, Your Grace," Simmons stated clearly, his voice carrying to every corner of the silent drawing room. "By the name of Captain Smith."

The name hit the room like a physical blow.

Delaney and Rowan were shocked.

Rowan’s smile vanished instantly. His blood turned to ice water in his veins. He stared at Simmons in absolute horror. Captain Smith. It was impossible. He had made the name up. He had invented the sailor in the Sterling Consortium boardroom to protect Delaney. Captain Smith did not exist. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Delaney felt the floor tilt beneath her boots. She gripped the back of a nearby chair to keep from falling. Her breath caught in her throat. Captain Smith? The fake husband? How could a fake husband be standing in the foyer of Hamilton House?

Rowan and Delaney looked at each other in sheer, unadulterated panic. Their secret was walking through the front door.

Ines, however, did not look shocked.

Ines beamed. A massive, triumphant, perfectly orchestrated smile spread across her face. Her hazel eyes sparkled with wicked delight.

"Splendid!" Ines declared loudly, clapping her hands together. "Absolutely splendid. He arrived early. I was hoping he would make it before the dinner bell."

Rowan took a step toward his sister. "Ines, what is the meaning of this? You cannot..."

Ines ignored him completely. She turned gracefully on her heel and looked directly at Delaney, who was still looking confused and terrified.

"Oh, do not look so surprised, my dear," Ines said sweetly.

She walked over to Delaney and gently patted the matchmaker’s frozen arm.

"Your husband is here," Ines announced cheerfully. "Let us go and greet the Captain, shall we?"