A Scandal By Any Other Name

"When this terrible crime was investigated by the Crown twenty years ago," the Chancellor declared, pointing an accusing finger at Hawksley, "you pinned absolutely everything on Baron Arthur Kingsley. With the help of Lord Farrington, you switched the shipping records. You made Arthur look like the criminal, while you kept the dirty gold."

Hawksley gripped the wooden railing. He shook his head frantically.

"That is not true!" Hawksley spoke, his voice cracking loudly. "I am a gentleman! I would never do such a thing!"

The Chancellor did not stop. He began assuming the rest of the dark history, using the pure logic of the evidence to get Hawksley to finally make a mistake.

"Let us look at the timeline, Lord Hawksley," the Chancellor said, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "When the Queen gave Arthur Kingsley a brief moment of pardon to gather evidence and defend himself, you were terribly afraid. You were terrified because you knew he had this original manifest. You knew he could prove his innocence and your guilt."

Hawksley stared at the judge. The color left his lips completely.

"Then," the Chancellor continued, leaning forward over his high desk, "you colluded secretly with Cole Kingsley. You found a greedy, jealous brother who wanted the family title. Since both of you share the exact same dark goals: to see Arthur Kingsley dead, you funded the assassination."

Hawksley was entirely quiet. He could not deny it. When he found out the manifest was destroyed in the rain after the accident, he was relieved. He never thought Arthur would have another copy.

The High Chancellor looked at him with absolute, profound disgust.

"You ruined an innocent family’s proud reputation," the Chancellor condemned him, his voice heavy with righteous anger. He gestured toward Delaney, who was standing quietly near the stand. "And you made a young, innocent girl an orphan for twenty years, simply because of your endless greed."

The Chancellor stood up from his carved chair. He picked up his gavel.

"The evidence is absolute and undeniable," the High Chancellor pronounced clearly. "Lord Hawksley, this House finds you completely guilty of high treason, massive fraud, and the planned murder of a noble peer."

He gave out Hawksley’s severe punishment without a single ounce of mercy.

"You are sentenced to hang by the neck until you are dead," the Chancellor declared. "Furthermore, all of your vast estates, your hidden bank accounts, and your personal assets are completely seized by the Crown. They will be used as financial compensation."

The Chancellor turned his head and looked down at Delaney. His stern face softened into a look of deep respect.

"The Crown formally returns the Oakridge manor, and all its stolen wealth, back to its rightful owner," the Chancellor announced. "Baron Arthur Kingsley is hereby officially declared completely innocent of all charges against his name. And you, young lady, are fully restored to your proper title as Lady Kingsley."

Delaney heard the beautiful words. Lady Delaney Kingsley. A soft, genuine smile finally broke across her pale, exhausted face. The heavy, dark cloud that had hung over her life for twenty long years was finally, completely gone. Her parents’ honor was perfectly clean. The monsters were all defeated. She had won.

Bang!

The High Chancellor struck his gavel against the wooden block.

"This is the end of the trial," the Chancellor announced.

Two Crown Guards stepped forward immediately. They grabbed Lord Hawksley roughly by the arms. The arrogant snake was completely broken. He did not fight them. He simply let them drag him away, his head hanging low in absolute, final defeat. The doors closed behind him.

Delaney stood in the center of the room. The loud murmurs of the gathered lords began again, but the sound seemed very far away.

Suddenly, the incredible, burning adrenaline that had kept her going for the past three hours completely vanished. The terrible pain in her bruised ribs flared up violently. Her throat ached. The room began to spin in fast, dizzying circles. Her legs felt heavy like lead.

Delaney’s knees simply gave out.

She fell to the polished floor. Her torn, bloody white silk dress pooled around her in a messy, tragic cloud.

"DELANEY!"

Rowan did not care about the rules anymore. He did not care about the whispering lords, or the High Chancellor.

Rowan jumped entirely over the low wooden railing of the front bench. He ran across the center aisle with frantic, desperate speed.

He reached her side and slid onto his knees on the hard wooden floor. He did not care that the dirt and blood from her dress stained his morning coat.

He carefully gathered her into his arms. He sat on the floor, gently lifting her upper body and cradling her head against his broad chest. He held her as if she were made of the most fragile glass in the world.

"Del, Del," Rowan said quickly, his deep voice filled with panic. His large, warm hands trembled as he touched her pale face. He saw the dark, ugly bruises on her neck. "Who did this to you? Look at me, please. Look at me, my darling."

Delaney slowly opened her hazel eyes. She looked up at his handsome, worried face. She saw the bright brown eyes she loved so much.

Rowan turned his head wildly. He looked back toward the benches.

"Call a doctor, Carcel!" Rowan yelled at his friend, his voice completely raw and desperate. "Hurry! She is bleeding!"

Carcel was already moving, running out of the side doors to find a physician.

Delaney felt completely safe in his arms. The warmth of his chest chased away the terrible cold of the morning. She reached up her small, shaking, stained-gloved hand.

"Shhh," Delaney said softly. Her voice was just a tiny, broken whisper.

Her hand touched his warm cheek. She stroked his skin gently, trying to calm his racing heart.

"I did it," she said weakly, a tiny, proud smile touching her pale lips.

Rowan looked down at her. Tears of relief and deep love filled his eyes. He leaned his face down, pressing his cheek against her soft hand.

"Yes, you did," Rowan nodded his head, his voice choking with emotion. "You did it. I am so incredibly proud of you, Del. You are so brave."

Delaney’s small smile faltered. The terrible, exhausting pain in her body was becoming completely overwhelming. The dark edges of her vision began to close in rapidly. The grand chamber around them was fading into complete darkness.

Tears welled up in her hazel eyes, slipping down her pale cheeks.

"I am sorry, Rowan," Delaney whispered, her eyelids fluttering shut. "It hurts... and I am so very tired."

All the remaining strength completely left her body. Her hand fell loosely from his warm cheek, dropping heavily to the wooden floor. Her head fell back against his arm. She passed out completely, succumbing to the terrible pain and exhaustion.

Rowan felt her body go entirely limp in his arms.

Terror ripped through his very soul. He pulled her tightly against his chest, burying his face in her dark, messy hair.

"Del," Rowan whispered frantically, gently shaking her shoulders. "Del, please wake up. Please."

She did not move. She did not open her eyes.

Rowan threw his head back. He did not care who was watching. He did not care about anything else in the entire world except the woman lying motionless in his arms.

"DELANEY!!!" Rowan screamed, his heartbroken, desperate voice echoing loudly into the high, vaulted ceilings of the grand hall.