A Scandal By Any Other Name

After Celine had safely departed in her hired carriage, the small dressmaker’s shop seemed to settle back into its quiet, warm rhythm. The scent of dried lavender and fresh linen filled the air once more. The massive danger of the morning had passed, leaving behind a profound sense of accomplishment.

Delaney stood in the narrow aisle for a few long moments, completely alone, allowing her racing heart to finally slow down.

She took a slow, deep breath, smoothing the front of her dark blue woolen day dress. The hard, calculating look vanished from her hazel eyes, replaced by the soft, polite expression of a young bride preparing for her special day.

Delaney walked back toward the front counter.

Madame D was still happily sorting through her large wooden box of delicate white lace trims. She looked up and smiled brightly as Delaney approached.

"Ah, Miss Kingsley!" Madame D greeted her warmly, setting a spool of fine lace onto the polished counter. "Have you finished browsing the ribbons?"

"I have, Madame, thank you," Delaney replied politely. "But I believe it is also time to try on the altered gown. My uncle informed me this morning that the wedding arrangements have been moved forward. I must travel to London tomorrow."

The dressmaker’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she quickly clapped her hands together in delight.

"Tomorrow? Oh, my!" Madame D exclaimed, her plump face turning a happy shade of pink. "A sudden journey to London for a wedding! How incredibly romantic! Then we must ensure the gown is completely perfect for you right this very moment. Come, come into the fitting room."

The dressmaker hurried out from behind the long wooden counter. She led Delaney toward a small, private fitting area near the large front window, separated from the main shop by a thick, heavy curtain of dark red velvet.

"Wait here, my dear," Madame D instructed, bustling away toward a large wardrobe in the corner.

Delaney stood in the center of the small fitting room. A large, beautiful oval mirror with a gilded frame stood against the wall. She waited patiently while the dressmaker retrieved the old, white silk gown that had once belonged to her cousin, Anne.

Ten minutes later, Delaney stood before the tall oval mirror.

The dressmaker had done an absolutely magnificent job. The old gown had been completely transformed. The heavy, outdated fabric had been expertly altered to fit Delaney’s slender figure perfectly. A delicate, completely new layer of fine, expensive white lace had been added over the bodice and down the long sleeves. It was no longer her cousin’s faded hand-me-down; it looked like a beautiful, brand new creation.

Madame D stood slightly behind Delaney, holding a small silver pin cushion. She carefully adjusted a tiny fold of white silk near the hemline, ensuring it fell perfectly over Delaney’s soft shoes.

The dressmaker stepped back and looked at the reflection in the mirror with deep professional pride.

"You look like a very beautiful bride," the dressmaker said softly, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "Your husband to be will be completely speechless when he sees you walking toward him."

Delaney looked at her own reflection in the tall glass.

She did not think about Lord Hawksley. The very thought of that cruel, greedy man made her stomach churn with disgust. Instead, her mind immediately went to the man she truly loved.

She smiled. It was not the tight, pretentious smile she used for her uncle. It was a soft, incredibly warm, genuine smile that reached all the way to her bright hazel eyes and made her entire face glow.

"You think so?" Delaney said, her voice dropping to a soft, almost breathless whisper.

She turned a little, the white silk swishing beautifully around her legs. She looked at her side profile in the gilded mirror, admiring the delicate lace patterns Madame D had added to the sleeves.

The dressmaker spoke, walking over to gently smooth a soft ribbon at Delaney’s waist.

"Of course, my dear," Madame D assured her kindly, patting Delaney’s arm. "Every bride is beautiful on her special day, but you look truly radiant. The white silk suits your dark hair perfectly."

Delaney’s smile widened. As she looked into the smooth glass, the small fitting room seemed to slowly fade away. The plump dressmaker disappeared from her vision.

In her mind’s eye, Delaney imagined a completely different scene.

She imagined she was standing in the grand, beautiful master bedchamber of Hamilton House. She imagined the tall, imposing figure of Rowan appearing quietly behind her in the mirror’s reflection.

In her sweet imagination, Rowan was dressed in a highly elegant, dark evening coat. He looked completely healthy, the white bandage entirely gone from his head, his handsome face free of dark bruises. His eyes were shining with absolute, profound devotion as he looked at her.

Delaney imagined his large, strong arms wrapping gently and securely around her slender waist. She felt the imaginary warmth of his broad chest pressing comfortingly against her back. They stood together, looking into the large mirror as one perfect unit.

Then, she imagined him leaning down slowly. She felt the phantom brush of his warm breath against her neck as he lowered his head.

He whispered softly into her ear. His deep, rumbling voice sent a delightful shiver down her spine, a sound that made her giggle softly in the quiet shop.

"My bride is the most beautiful woman in the entire world," imaginary Rowan murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the delicate skin just below her ear.

Delaney closed her eyes for a brief second, completely surrendering to the beautiful daydream. She wished with all her heart that it was real. And very soon, she knew, it would be.

She opened her hazel eyes. The sweet, comforting imagination slowly faded away, like mist in the morning sun. She was back in the small dressmaker’s shop. Rowan was still miles away in the Hamilton house.

But the warm, happy smile remained firmly on her lips.

She turned away from the tall oval mirror and faced the smiling dressmaker.

"Thank you, Madame," Delaney said sincerely, her voice filled with true appreciation. "Thank you for your incredibly hard work. You have performed an absolute miracle with this old fabric. It is beautiful."

The dressmaker nodded her head happily, beaming with pride.