A Scandal By Any Other Name

"So that is how it happened," Celine said. Her voice was barely a whisper, completely drained of all its energy after recounting the terrifying morning her father had been arrested. She stood in the narrow, shadowed aisle of the dressmaker’s shop, holding her heavy winter cloak tightly around her small body.

Delaney looked at the young, exhausted lady. She carefully tucked the blackmail ledger away.

"It is alright," Delaney replied, her voice soft but filled with an undeniable, fierce strength. She reached out and placed her gloved hand gently on Celine’s arm. "You are safe now, Celine. Your father has been taken away by the Crown Guards. He is going to face the high courts. He is going to pay for absolutely everything he did to you, to Edward, and to everyone else."

Celine nodded her head very slowly. The tight, terrified lines around her eyes began to relax just a fraction. For the first time in three long years, she did not have to look over her shoulder. She did not have to fear her father’s heavy footsteps or his cruel commands.

She took a slow, deep breath of the warm, lavender-scented air of the shop.

"Did the Duke..." Celine started, her voice faltering slightly. She looked up at Delaney, her eyes shining with a fragile, desperate hope. "Did the Duke of Ford find out anything about Edward’s resting place? Did his investigators find the grave?"

Delaney froze. Her hand remained resting on Celine’s arm.

The air in the narrow aisle suddenly felt incredibly cold and heavy. Delaney’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She remembered the letter she had received from Rowan just three days ago. She remembered the terrible, ruthless truth Miss Flora had revealed in the Hamilton drawing room.

Delaney did not know how to break the horrifying news to the fragile girl standing before her. Celine had already endured so much trauma and abuse. But Delaney also knew the terrible damage of living a lie. She could not leave the poor girl in the dark anymore, even if the absolute truth would hurt her deeply. Celine deserved the truth, no matter how sharp it was.

"Celine," Delaney said, pausing heavily. She removed her hand from Celine’s arm.

Celine looked at her. Her wide, expecting eyes immediately searched Delaney’s face for an answer. She saw the deep sorrow and the painful hesitation in the matchmaker’s expression.

"What is it?" Celine asked, her voice trembling. "Did they not find it?"

Delaney let out a long, very sad sigh. She looked directly into Celine’s eyes, preparing to deliver the final, crushing blow.

"He wasn’t buried, Celine," Delaney whispered.

Celine frowned slightly, completely confused by the words. Her young mind could not immediately grasp the cruel meaning.

Celine asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. "What do you mean he wasn’t buried? Everyone is buried. Did they put him in a crypt?"

Delaney shook her head slowly. Her own hazel eyes filled with tears of deep, genuine sympathy.

"I am so incredibly sorry," Delaney replied, her voice breaking slightly. "Edward’s body was not placed in the ground. The men... they took him to the cliffs that very night. His body was thrown into the churning sea."

The quiet words hung in the air, heavy and absolutely devastating.

Celine stared at Delaney. All the color instantly drained from her already pale face, leaving her looking completely white and entirely ghost-like.

She raised both of her trembling hands and covered her mouth tightly. She gasped, a sharp, choked sound of pure horror.

She stepped backward until her shoulders hit the wooden shelves, knocking a bolt of green silk slightly askew. She squeezed her eyes shut. She sniffled a little, the sound was a bit loud in the quiet aisle.

She slowly removed her hands from her mouth. Her lips were trembling violently.

"Papa lied to me," Celine whispered, the realization hitting her like a blow.

She looked up at Delaney, her blue eyes wide with a new, fresh layer of betrayal.

"When I came back from the convent in France," Celine explained, her voice rising slightly in panic, "he told me that he had buried Edward in a quiet, unmarked grave near the edge of the woods. He told me he gave him a proper, Christian burial to spare my feelings."

Delaney closed her eyes briefly, sickened by Lord Farrington’s endless, calculated cruelty.

"He told me to make the Duke of Ford interested in me during the London season," Celine continued, the tears beginning to spill rapidly down her cheeks. "He told me it was my duty to repair the family name. I told him I would not do it because I did not love the Duke. I told him I could never love anyone else."

She wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach, bending forward slightly as if in physical pain.

"Do you know what he said?" Celine sobbed, looking at Delaney with a completely broken heart. "He said if I agree to the marriage, if I played the perfect, obedient daughter, he would finally show me where Edward was buried. He said he would let me place flowers on the dirt. He used the grave as a bargaining chip, Miss Kingsley! He told me Edward died because of me, because I was foolish enough to run away!"

She sniffled again, a harsh, ragged sound. The tears fell freely, dropping onto the dark fabric of her cloak.

"I have been carrying this terrible, heavy guilt with me for three entire years, Miss Kingsley," Celine cried, completely losing her aristocratic composure. "I thought I killed him! How do I ask for his forgiveness now? He is gone forever! How do I tell him I am incredibly sorry for involving him with my wicked family?"

Celine covered her face with her hands, sobbing loudly.

"I shouldn’t have let him touch me that day in his quarters," she wept bitterly into her hands. "I shouldn’t have agreed to elope with him. I was so stupid! I shouldn’t have had that foolish, childish dream to be completely free and live a simple, happy life with him far away from here!"

Delaney could not stand to watch the young girl suffer any longer.

She stepped forward quickly. She reached out and wrapped her arms tightly around Celine’s trembling shoulders. Delaney pulled the weeping girl close, hugging her warmly and securely against her chest.

Celine buried her face into the soft wool of Delaney’s day dress, sobbing uncontrollably, finally releasing three years of trapped, agonizing grief.