A Scandal By Any Other Name

Delaney turned around to face her room.

She froze. Her breath caught in her throat, not in fear, but in a sudden, sharp wave of cold anger.

Her room had been completely ransacked. It was a scene of total, violent chaos.

The heavy wooden trunk sitting at the foot of her large bed had been thrown wide open. The metal hinges were strained. Her simple, dark dresses were pulled out and scattered carelessly across the floorboards like discarded rags. The thick, warm quilts on her bed were completely pulled off and thrown into a corner. The soft mattress was shifted sideways, hanging halfway off the wooden bed frame.

She walked slowly further into the room. The small drawers of her dressing table were pulled completely out. Their contents—her hairpins, a simple wooden comb, and a few plain ribbons—were dumped onto the fine rug.

Even the small, simple paintings on the walls had been pushed aside, as if someone had been searching for a hidden safe behind them.

It was a total, physical violation of her private space. It was meant to make her feel small, vulnerable, and afraid.

Instead, a slow, highly calculated smirk touched the corners of her soft lips.

"Seems he didn’t find what he was looking for," Delaney said to herself. Her voice was an incredibly quiet, steady whisper in the messy room.

She knew exactly who had done this. There was only one person in the entire Kingsley estate with the absolute audacity, the cruelty, and the sick entitlement to behave this way.

Lucas.

He had torn her room apart while she was in town. He was looking for a secret plan. He was looking for stolen gold. He was looking for any piece of evidence that proved she was trying to escape her wedding to Lord Hawksley so he could ruin her completely.

But Delaney was much smarter than him.

The beautiful, loving letters she had been receiving secretly from Rowan, her sweet Golden Puppy, were entirely gone. She had read them, memorized every single loving word, and then she had burned them to ashes in her small fireplace days ago. The cold, gray ashes were meaningless.

And the incredibly dangerous shipping manifest—the single piece of paper that could ruin Hawksley and Cole’s name and send them to the gallows—was safely hidden away.

She had tucked it inside a tiny, loose opening in the inner lining of her thick winter cloak, a place Lucas would never think to tear apart.

"As expected of him," Delaney said softly. Her smirk faded, leaving her face entirely blank and resolute.

She set her velvet reticule down on a small side table that had not been overturned. She turned and walked back to the door. She unlocked it, stepped out into the quiet hallway, and pulled the long bell rope to call for the servants.

A few minutes later, two young maids hurried up the stairs. When they reached the open door of Delaney’s bedchamber, they both gasped loudly. Their hands flew to their mouths in shock at the terrible mess

"Oh, Miss Delaney!" one maid whispered, her eyes wide with fear. She knew this was the work of the young master, and she was terrified of his anger.

"Please, do not worry," Delaney instructed them in a calm, soothing voice. She did not want the maids to be punished for someone else’s cruelty. "Just tidy the room, please. Fold the dresses and fix the bed. I will stay out of your way."

The maids nodded quickly and scurried into the room, beginning to pick up the scattered clothing.

Delaney stood quietly near the open doorway, watching them work.

As she stood there, she felt a strange prickle at the back of her neck. It was the feeling of being watched. She slowly turned her head and looked down the long, shadowed hallway.

Standing at the far end of the corridor, partially hidden by the dim light, was Lucas.

He was leaning casually against the flocked wallpaper, his arms crossed over his chest. He was staring directly at her. When he saw that she noticed him, a slow, wide, completely terrifying smile spread across his handsome face. He looked deeply pleased with himself. He was waiting for her to show anger. He was waiting for her to yell at him or break down in tears.

Delaney did not give him the satisfaction.

She stared back at him. Her hazel eyes were completely cold, hard, and devoid of any emotion. She looked at him as if he were nothing more than a dirty stain on the carpet.

Without breaking eye contact, Delaney reached out, grabbed the brass handle of her bedroom door, and pulled it shut with a firm click, cutting off his view entirely.

Inside the room, the maids worked quickly and silently. Within half an hour, the dresses were folded back into the trunk, the mattress was fixed, and the dressing table was neatly arranged. The maids curtsied respectfully and left the room, closing the door behind them.

Delaney was finally alone again.

She walked over to a small, plush chair near the window and sat down. She stayed there and pondered for a very long while. The afternoon sun slowly moved across the sky, casting long, orange shadows across the wooden floorboards.

She had to make a very important decision.

She had the ledger. She had the shipping manifest. She needed to deliver them both to Hamish, the loyal Hamilton guard waiting in the servant quarters. Hamish was ready to ride to London to deliver the final proof to Rowan.

But to deliver the ledger and the manifest tonight would be incredibly, terribly risky with Lucas around.

Lucas was a psychopath, but he was also highly observant. He had told her clearly that he was watching her every move. He had promised to kill her if she did anything suspicious. If she tried to sneak out of the house in the dark, he would surely catch her. He would take the manifest, realize exactly what it was, and destroy it to protect his own fortune.

If she lost the evidence, Rowan would not have enough proof against Lord Hawksley. The entire plan would fail, and she would be at Lucas’s absolute mercy.

The risk was simply too high.

"I will do it tomorrow," Delaney decided silently.

Tomorrow morning, the carriage would arrive to take her to London for the wedding. She would keep the ledger hidden in her travel bag. She would keep the manifest hidden in her cloak. Once she was away from this cursed house and out of Lucas’s immediate grasp, she would find a way to hand the evidence to Hamish or the another Hamilton guard, Cole, on the road.