A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 99 - Ninety Nine

Rowan opened his mouth to argue, but Ines did not let him speak.

"Think about it, Rowan!" Ines said, her voice rising with passion. "If Lady Farrington discovers the truth, what do you think will happen? She will tell society. She will spread the word that the Duke of Ford is living alone with an unmarried woman of lower station."

Ines walked right up to him. She lifted her hand and poked a firm finger directly at the center of his broad chest.

"If you don’t care about your own reputation, care about hers," Ines commanded, poking him again for emphasis. "Miss Kingsley is under the roof of the Hamiltons. We brought her here. We put her in this position. And we must protect her until her contract with you ends."

Rowan looked down at his sister’s finger, then up into her eyes. The truth of her words hit him hard.

"If society finds out she is not your cousin, and not a married woman," Ines continued, dropping her hand, "she will be ruined. Her name will be dragged through the mud. No respectable family will ever hire her again. She will be destroyed."

Ines took a step back, crossing her arms.

"So," Ines concluded, "I hired an actor. He will play the part. He will convince Lady Farrington that Delaney is a respectable, married woman. I solved the problem. So I do not know why you are angry about this."

Rowan stood frozen. His chest heaved. He hated that she was right. He hated that the lie was necessary. But most of all, he hated the thought of that man, that actor, spending the next three days calling Delaney his wife.

"I’m not angry," Rowan replied. His jaw was clenched so tight it ached. He looked away from Ines, staring blindly at the rows of books on the wall. "I’m just annoyed."

Ines watched him closely.

She studied his rigid posture. She saw the way his hands were balled into fists at his sides. She saw the deep, painful flush that still stained his neck. This was not the reaction of a man who was merely ’annoyed’ by a disruption to his household. This was the reaction of a man who was slowly being eaten alive by jealousy. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"Why are you annoyed, Rowan?" Ines asked softly.

She looked at his expression, his reaction, his gesture. The stiffness of his spine. The way he refused to look at her.

She said in her mind, Come on, Rowan. Why are you annoyed? Say it. Just say it aloud. Tell me you care for her. Tell me you cannot stand the thought of another man touching her.

"Is it because he is a stranger?" Ines pressed gently, taking a slow step toward him. "Or is it because of how he looks at her?"

Rowan closed his eyes.

He was trapped. He was trapped in a cage of his own making.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to tell Ines everything. He wanted to tell her that he was falling in love with the matchmaker. He wanted to tell her that the thought of marrying Lady Celine made him feel sick to his stomach.

But then, he remembered the contract locked inside his desk drawer. He remembered the sub-clause. He remembered Lord Hawksley’s dark, scarred face, and the threat of losing the entire Hamilton estate. He remembered Delaney’s terrified sobs on the floor of the Blue Suite, trembling at the mere mention of Hawksley’s name.

If he confessed his feelings to Ines now, Ines would try to stop the wedding. She would cause a scandal. And if that happened, Hawksley would destroy them all. Hawksley would take the land, and worse, he would somehow hurt Delaney. Rowan could not risk her safety just to ease his own heart.

He had to swallow his pride. He had to bury his jealousy. He had to play the part of the perfect Duke, even if it tore him to pieces from the inside out, even if it means keeping Delaney safe till he could sort it all out.

Rowan opened his eyes. He slowly uncurled his fists, forcing his hands to relax and hang loosely at his sides. He took a deep, steadying breath, pushing the anger down into a dark, locked box inside his mind.

"It’s nothing," Rowan replied.

His voice was dead. It held no emotion, no heat, no anger. It was completely empty.

Ines frowned. This was not the answer she wanted. "Rowan..."

"I’m sorry for the way I behaved earlier," Rowan said, cutting her off. He finally turned his head and looked at her. His eyes were dull and flat. "You are right, Ines. As always. We started the lie in the city. We dragged her into it. So we must protect her."

He walked behind his large oak desk. He placed his hands flat on the polished wood, creating a physical barrier between himself and his sister.

"The actor was a clever idea," Rowan forced himself to say. The words tasted like ash in his mouth. "He plays his part well. It will keep Lady Farrington satisfied. You did the right thing."

Ines stared at him. She felt a deep sense of disappointment. She had pushed him right to the edge of a confession, and he had simply turned around and walked away from the cliff. He was retreating back into his shell of duty and perfection.

She did not know about the contract. She did not know about the danger. She only saw a stubborn man refusing to fight for his own happiness.

Ines sighed softly. She smoothed the front of her green silk skirts, bringing her hands together in front of her.

"Very well then, brother," Ines replied quietly. The teasing light was completely gone from her hazel eyes. "If you are satisfied with the arrangement, then I am glad I could be of service to the family."

She turned toward the door.

"I shall leave you with your work," Ines said, not looking back at him. "My son needs me. Enjoy your ledgers, brother."

She walked to the heavy oak door, turned the brass handle, and stepped out into the hallway. She pulled the door shut behind her with a soft, final click.

Rowan was alone again.

The silence in the study was absolute. The ticking of the grandfather clock sounded like a hammer striking an anvil in his head.

He stood behind the desk for a long minute, staring at the closed door. The mask of calm acceptance he had worn for his sister slowly crumbled, breaking into a million jagged pieces.

Rowan let out a harsh, ragged breath.

He raised his hands and ran his fingers through his hair in pure, unadulterated frustration. He gripped the gold locks tightly, pulling at the roots until the pain grounded him.

He had to sit through dinner tonight. He had to sit at the head of the table and watch Smith pull out Delaney’s chair. He had to watch them smile at each other. He had to watch that man pour her wine, and whisper in her ear, and pretend to be the husband that Rowan desperately wished he could be.

And he had to do it all while smiling at Celine Farrington.

Rowan slammed his open palms down onto the wooden surface of the desk. The loud crack echoed off the bookshelves.

"Damnation..."

He cursed under his breath. It was a dark, vile curse that no Duke should ever speak, aimed at Hawksley, aimed at the contract, and aimed mostly at himself for being so utterly, hopelessly useless.

He sank down into his leather chair, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The shadows of the afternoon crept across the floor, swallowing the light in the room, mirroring the dark, cold reality that he was finally, truly beaten.