A Scandal By Any Other Name

He was aided by his mother, Eunice, who constantly fed him a toxic, arrogant narrative.

"She is an orphan, Lucas," Eunice would tell her son, sipping her tea. "She is a nobody. She relies on our charity to simply eat. You are the heir to this estate. You can do absolutely anything you want to her, and no one will ever care."

As they become young adults, Lucas’s physical violence became more frequent and more calculated. If Delaney walked past him on the stairs, he would casually stick out his foot to trip her, sending her tumbling down the hard wooden steps. If she was carrying a heavy load of laundry, he would deliberately bump into her, forcing her to drop it all into the mud.

He would destroy some of Anne’s hand-me-downs, fascinated by what move she would make next.

Delaney, however, became fiercely independent. She continued wearing her plain, dark gray dresses by choice, realizing they were much better and more dignified than Anne’s frilly, worn-out hand-me-downs.

She also began a highly dangerous, secret life. She needed to escape, and she needed money to do it.

Delaney began earning money by sneaking out of the manor late at night. She would wrap her chest tightly, dress up as a young, rough boy using old clothes she stole from the stable hands, and travel to the rough taverns on the edge of the village. She would go to the illegal, underground shooting rings. She was a brilliant marksman, having watched her father and her uncle practice for years. She participated in the shooting matches, winning heavy bets against grown men. She quietly saved every single gold coin, hiding them beneath the loose floorboards in the attic to plan her escape.

Lucas, who watched her every move like a hungry hawk, became very suspicious of her sudden, quiet confidence. He noticed she was sneaking out. He began to follow her.

He almost caught her one night as she was returning from the village, climbing up the trellis toward the attic window. He had stood in the dark gardens, a cruel smile forming on his face, preparing to pull her down and break her leg then report to the elders of her meeting a man in the middle of the night.

But she was saved by a sudden, horrifying intervention.

Lord Hawksley had visited the estate earlier that week and had shown a dark, vile interest in Delaney. He intended to marry her to keep her fortune and in return give Cole some percentage for his contribution.

The very next morning, Cole Kingsley had pulled his son aside.

"Listen to me very carefully, Lucas," Cole had ordered strictly. "Lord Hawksley has made an offer for the girl. A very generous offer. You will let Delaney be. You will not touch her, you will not say anything to scandalize her and you will not bruise her face. If you anger Hawksley by damaging his property, I will cut off your allowance entirely."

Lucas was absolutely furious. He was angry that he could no longer derive twisted joy from Delaney’s physical suffering. His favorite toy had been taken away.

Unable to handle his dark, boiling frustration, Lucas struck first.

It was a cold, rainy afternoon just a week before Delaney was taken to the ball. They were alone in the grand foyer. Delaney was scrubbing the marble floor.

Lucas walked up to her, his polished boots stopping right next to her soapy hands. He looked down at her with pure, unadulterated hatred. He decided to use the one weapon he knew would always cut the deepest.

"You know," Lucas sneered, his voice dripping with venom, "I heard the coachman talking about the accident. He said your father was running away from the crime he committed. He scammed the Queen and wanted to kill her but Karma caught up with him."

Delaney froze. Her hands gripped the scrub brush tightly. She did not look up.

"He said your father and mother threw their own body over yours to protect you," Lucas continued, a cruel, mocking smile stretching across his face. He leaned down, whispering the vile words directly into her ear. "What a complete, foolish waste of a life. They made a terrible mistake in saving a worthless little rat like you. They should have let you die in the mud with them."

The wall around Delaney’s heart completely shattered. The intense, burning rage she had buried for years exploded.

She did not remain silent. She did not remain still.

Delaney stood up violently. She swung the heavy, wet wooden scrub brush directly at his face.

Smack!

The hard wood connected perfectly with Lucas’s cheekbone. The skin split open immediately, and bright red blood began to pour down his face.

Lucas stumbled backward, a smile plastered on his face before he screamed in shock and pain. He touched his bleeding face. He lunged forward, tackling Delaney to the hard marble floor.

They got into a brutal, violent fight. Lucas punched her hard in the ribs, but Delaney fought back with the ferocity of a cornered wildcat. She scratched his face and kicked his shins, refusing to be a victim any longer.

The loud sounds of the struggle brought Eunice running from the drawing room.

"Lucas!" Eunice screamed, seeing her precious son bleeding on the floor.

Eunice grabbed Delaney by the hair and pulled her off Lucas. Without a second thought, Eunice slapped Delaney brutally across the face, her heavy rings cutting into Delaney’s lip.

"Guards!" Eunice shrieked. "Take this wild animal upstairs! Lock her in the attic room!"

The servants dragged Delaney away. As she was being pulled up the stairs, Lucas stood up. He wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand with a smirk on his lips.

He looked up at Delaney, his dark eyes filled with absolute, lethal malice. He did not care about Hawksley’s money anymore.

Before she was dragged to the ball, Lucas had gone to her room in the attic, spoken his final, terrifying vow.

"You are dead, Delaney," Lucas had spat, his voice echoing in the quiet foyer. "If Hawksley does not kill you, I swear to God, I will find you, and I will kill you myself so don’t let me see you. I can’t let you have what belongs to me."