A Scandal By Any Other Name

"Good morning, Lord Farrington," Captain Reynolds greeted him smoothly. His voice was calm and completely unbothered. "What a lovely, crisp morning we got today in the country, right?" he teased lightly.

Lord Farrington stared at the blue uniforms. He felt the cold, heavy weight of absolute defeat settle into his stomach.

Farrington slowly turned his head. He looked at the elderly butler, who was standing nervously near the doorway to the drawing room. The butler lowered his head in deep shame. He had not warned his master about the soldiers waiting outside.

Farrington looked back at the Captain. He saw the large number of well-trained guards awaiting him. He instantly knew the truth.

The letter from the House of Lords had not arrived by the regular post. It was the Crown Guards that delivered the letter. They had handed it to the butler and waited patiently in the driveway, using the formal summons to draw the Earl out of his study and confirm his presence in the house before making their move.

Captain Reynolds’s cold smile faded slightly. He looked pointedly down at the leather travel bag clutched tightly in Lord Farrington’s hand.

"Are you going on a sudden trip, my lord?" Captain Reynolds asked, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm. "That is a terrible shame. We were sent here specifically to escort you back to the House of Lords."

The Captain took one slow, deliberate step forward into the foyer.

"If you do not mind joining us, of course," Reynolds added politely, though the threat beneath his words was completely undeniable.

Lord Farrington was absolutely silent. His mind was racing, calculating exactly what he should do next. He could not be seen being dragged away like a common thief. But he was also completely outnumbered.

Captain Reynolds let out a soft sigh, clearly losing his patience with the silent nobleman.

"I believe you just received a formal letter from the High Chancellor," Reynolds spoke, his voice dropping into a hard, serious tone. "That was the House of Lords being polite and civil, offering you the chance to surrender your title gracefully."

Reynolds gripped the handle of his silver sword slightly tighter.

"We, the Crown Guards, are not polite, my lord," Reynolds stated firmly. "Knowing exactly what kind of man you are, and knowing exactly what you did to young Edward Fitz, we knew you would need some heavily armed escorts to ensure your compliance. So, do not make things difficult for us. Put the bag down."

The mention of the murdered stable boy was the final, breaking point for Lord Farrington. It proved they knew absolutely everything. The perfect, untouchable shield he had built for twenty years was completely destroyed. He had nothing left to lose.

Panic and rage completely overtook his rational thought. He refused to be arrested.

Farrington dropped the leather travel bag. It hit the marble floor with a loud thud.

With lightning speed, Farrington reached under his dark morning coat. He pulled out the loaded pistol from his belt.

He did not aim for Captain Reynolds. He aimed wildly, entirely desperate to create chaos so he could run for the back doors.

Bang!

He pulled the heavy trigger. The loud, deafening explosion echoed terribly in the enclosed space of the grand foyer.

He fired wildly toward the line of guards. The lead ball flew through the air, missing a guard’s head by mere inches.

The bullet struck a massive, expensive porcelain vase sitting on a pedestal near the front doors.

Smash!

The priceless vase shattered into a thousand tiny, sharp pieces. The loud, violent sound of breaking porcelain echoed through the entire house.

Upstairs on the landing, the sudden, violent sound of the gunshot made Celine jerk violently backward.

She gasped, a sharp, terrified sound. The loud bang instantly ripped her mind back to the darkest, most horrible night of her life.

It made her remember Edward. She remembered that night. She remembered the dark stables. And she clearly remembered the exact, terrible sound of her father’s pistol going off, stealing the life of the boy she loved.

Celine’s legs completely gave way. She collapsed onto the carpeted floor of the upper landing. She curled herself tightly into a small ball, wrapping her arms securely around her head. She pressed her face into her knees, squeezing her eyes shut, crying uncontrollably as she was forced to relive the absolute, bloody trauma in her head all over again.

Down in the foyer, the chaos ended as quickly as it began.

The Crown Guards did not panic. They were highly trained military men. The moment the gun was fired, half a dozen rifles were instantly raised and aimed directly at Lord Farrington’s chest.

Lord Farrington stood completely frozen. The smoking pistol hung uselessly from his hand. He had missed and with rifles pointing at him, he knew he was entirely trapped.

Captain Reynolds did not even draw his sword completely. He stood perfectly still, watching the smoke clear. He slowly shook his head in deep, genuine disappointment.

"For a highly educated, supposedly smart man like you, Lord Farrington," Captain Reynolds said, his voice cold and completely unimpressed, "that was a very, very foolish move."

Reynolds looked at the pistol in the Earl’s hand.

"I guess I will pardon you for the attempted murder of my guard," Reynolds stated calmly. "Because it is completely obvious you acted out of pure, pathetic fear."

He smiled. It was a very quick, very sharp smile, and then it disappeared completely, leaving his face entirely hard.

Captain Reynolds gestured quickly with his head toward the defeated Earl.

"Take him," Reynolds commanded.

Two large, strong guards immediately stepped forward. They did not treat him like an Earl. They treated him like a dangerous criminal. They grabbed his arms roughly, twisting them painfully behind his back. The pistol clattered to the marble floor.

"Let me go!" Lord Farrington shouted, completely losing his composure. He struggled weakly against their strong grip, his face red with fury and humiliation. "You cannot touch me! I am a peer of the realm! I demand to see the Chancellor!"

"You will see him very soon," Reynolds replied coldly.

The guards began to march him roughly toward the open front doors. They shoved him down the stone steps.

As they were leaving the house, dragging the protesting Earl toward the waiting prison carriage, Captain Reynolds paused on the top step.

He looked down at the leather travel bag Lord Farrington had dropped. The bag was bursting with gold and bank notes, packed for a single man’s escape.

Captain Reynolds looked at the Earl struggling in the gravel driveway. He spoke loudly, ensuring Farrington heard his deep disgust.

"You are truly as despicable as the rumors say you are, my lord," Captain Reynolds announced. His voice was filled with complete, moral revulsion. "Were you truly planning on running away entirely alone? Without your wife? Without your young daughter? Leaving them completely behind to face the terrible ruin and the massive debts you created?"

Lord Farrington stopped struggling for a brief second. He glared back at the Captain, but he had absolutely no defense. It was exactly what he had planned to do.

Captain Reynolds shook his head slowly and clicked his teeth in profound disgust.

"That is pathetic," Reynolds finished bluntly.

He turned away from the Earl and signaled to the remaining guards.

"Load him up," Reynolds ordered.

The guards dragged Lord Farrington the rest of the way to the iron-barred carriage. They practically threw him inside, slamming the door shut and locking it tight.