A Scandal By Any Other Name

A wonderful, savory smell immediately filled the air. On the tray sat a large porcelain bowl filled with hot, rich chicken broth, a plate of soft, warm bread, and a small glass of cool water.

Rowan did not ask if she wanted to feed herself. He was already completely stepping into his eager, protective husband duties.

He picked up the spoon, dipped it into the hot, rich broth, and blew on it very gently to cool it down. He held the spoon out toward her lips with a soft, encouraging smile.

Delaney blushed slightly, feeling entirely pampered, but she leaned forward and accepted the warm soup. It tasted absolutely incredible after a week of having bland nutritious broth.

"As I was saying before the doctor arrived," Rowan continued speaking smoothly as he fed her a second spoonful. "I have very specific, very lovely plans for our official courtship the absolute moment you are fully recovered."

Delaney raised an eyebrow, chewing a small piece of soft bread he handed her. "Oh? And what are these grand plans?"

"We will do it properly this time," Rowan promised, his eyes twinkling brightly. "No rushing, no hiding, no secret letters. I will take you for long, leisurely carriage rides through Hyde Park in the bright afternoon sun, where everyone in the Ton can see us together. We will attend the theater and sit in the royal box. We will dance at three different grand balls."

He dipped the spoon again, offering her more warm broth.

"And then," Rowan smiled, a deep, incredibly romantic look crossing his handsome face, "when the time is perfectly right, I will throw a ball to officially welcome you to the society and formally ask you to marry me. And I will give you a proper wedding, filled with joy and light."

Delaney swallowed the warm broth. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest at his beautiful, perfect words. She could picture it all so clearly. A life filled with light and love, completely free from fear.

Rowan set the silver spoon down in the bowl for a moment. He looked at her thoughtfully.

"Delaney," Rowan asked softly, his tone turning a little more serious. "I was wondering... do you have any other living relatives? Now that your uncle and cousin are gone, is there anyone else in your family you would like to contact to share your good news and be your chaperone during the courting process?"

Delaney reached out and took a small sip of water from the glass on the tray. She nodded her head slowly as she set the glass back down.

"Yes, I do," Delaney said after chewing and swallowing the last bite of soft bread. "They stay far away in France. They are my mother’s side of the family."

Rowan listened carefully, completely focused on her every word.

"After my parents died twenty years ago," Delaney explained, a small shadow of old sadness crossing her hazel eyes, "my uncle Cole told them in a formal letter that he would take full, legal care of me here in England. He lied to them."

She looked down at the white blankets covering her lap.

"He immediately cut off all communication and all connections between them and myself," Delaney said quietly. "He forbade the servants from sending any mail for me. I could not send them a single letter, and I could not receive any letters from them. If they wrote, Uncle Cole would write them back, telling them how I was fairing. It got to a point he started burning them."

She sighed softly, playing nervously with a loose thread on the blanket.

"I feel they truly believed I was doing very well living with Cole on the grand estate, so they eventually simply stopped reaching out,"

Delaney confessed.

She looked up at Rowan, her hazel eyes filled with a sudden, deep vulnerability and a quiet, hidden fear of rejection.

"Do you think they would still care about me?" Delaney asked him softly. "It has been twenty years. I am a complete stranger to them now."

Rowan set the silver tray completely aside on the small bedside table.

He leaned forward, moving very close to her. He raised his hand and used his warm thumb to very gently, very carefully clean a tiny drop of broth from the side of her soft mouth. His touch was incredibly tender.

"Who wouldn’t care about you, Del?" Rowan smiled warmly, his eyes looking deeply into her soul, trying to banish all her hidden fears.

"How could anyone in this world not love you? Don’t you know exactly how entirely lovable you are?"

"Stop teasing me." Delaney said, feeling a warm blush spread rapidly across her cheeks. She smiled, feeling incredibly safe and cherished under his loving gaze.

Rowan continued, his voice completely encouraging and firm.

"You can write a letter to them," Rowan suggested brightly. "You can tell them everything that has happened. You can tell them that your father’s good name is clean, and that you are safe here in London with your intended and you would wish they could visit."

Delaney thought about it for a second. The idea of finally reaching out to her mother’s family, of finally connecting with her true blood, filled her with a nervous but beautiful hope.

Delaney nodded her head slowly. "I would like that very much."

She looked down at her hands. They were still slightly weak and shaking from her long rest. She knew her handwriting would be messy.

She looked back up at Rowan with a slightly shy, completely trusting expression.

"Can you help me with that?" Delaney asked softly. "Can you write it for me?"

Rowan smiled. It was a wide, incredibly happy smile that reached all the way to his eyes. He loved that she was asking for his help. He loved being the man she leaned on.

He nodded his head immediately.

"Of course, my darling," Rowan agreed without a single second of hesitation. He reached out and gently brushed a dark curl of hair away from her bandaged forehead. "Absolutely anything for you."