A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 196 - Hundred And Ninety Six

Delaney tilted her head, trying to understand the request. "What is it you need him to find, Lady Celine?"

Celine looked down at the wooden floorboards again. The hard, determined look on her face completely shattered. A profound, overwhelming sadness washed over her features, making her look incredibly young and incredibly broken. Her lower lip trembled slightly before she forced it still.

Celine replied, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I need to know where Edward was buried."

Delaney blinked, completely taken aback by the name.

"Edward Fitz," Celine whispered, finally speaking the full name aloud for the first time in three agonizing years. A single tear escaped her eye and rolled down her pale cheek. "He was a stable boy at our estate. He was... he was a good man. My father took him away from me, and he never told me where they put him. I just want to know where he is so I can say goodbye."

Delaney’s heart clenched painfully in her chest.

She suddenly remembered the terrible, bloody secret Ines and Aunt Margery had discovered in the letter from the Duchess of Hastings. During Rowan comatose state, they filled her in about the secret.

Lord Farrington shot a stable boy. He murdered him in cold blood because the boy tried to elope with Lady Celine.

The pieces of Celine’s broken heart finally fell perfectly into place. This was the source of her absolute terror. This was the reason she trembled when her father raised his voice. She was not simply afraid of a strict parent; she was living in the same house as the man who had brutally murdered the boy she loved.

Delaney thought to herself, a deep, protective anger rising in her soul against Lord Farrington.

She looked at the weeping girl with immense, profound compassion. She wanted to reach out and hug her. She wanted to tell Celine that the Duke of Ford would not just find the grave; he would hang the man responsible for filling it.

But before Delaney could speak a single word of comfort, a sharp, piercing voice cut through the quiet shop like a knife.

"Celine?"

Lady Farrington’s voice echoed loudly from the front of the shop. It was sharp, demanding, and completely impatient. The sound instantly shattered the secret, tragic moment between the two women.

"Where are you, child?" Lady Farrington called out, her heavy silk skirts rustling as she began to walk down the main aisle toward the back of the shop. "We do not have all day! The carriage is waiting!"

Celine turned in absolute fear. She gasped, a sharp, panicked sound. She quickly wiped the single tear from her cheek with the back of her gloved hand, desperate to hide any sign of weakness from her cruel mother.

She turned to check if her mother was close. Through the gaps in the hanging fabrics, she could see the bright purple silk of her mother’s dress moving rapidly toward their aisle.

"I have to go," Celine whispered frantically to Delaney, her eyes wide with terror. If her mother found her speaking to the matchmaker, it would raise suspicion and she would be severely punished.

She took a hasty step backward, preparing to run. But before she fled, she turned back to Delaney, delivering the final terms of their desperate bargain.

"I will come here four days from now," Celine promised quickly, her voice a rushed, urgent whisper. "My mother has another fitting scheduled for my gown. I will come with the ledger. Let’s meet here, in this exact aisle."

Delaney nodded her head sharply, committing the time and place to memory. "Four days. I will be here."

Her mother’s voice sounded again, much closer this time. It was filled with angry suspicion.

"Celine? What are you doing back there?" Lady Farrington demanded, her footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards.

Celine took a deep breath, instantly forcing her face back into a perfect, blank mask of obedience.

Celine answered, calling out loudly so her mother could hear her. "Mama, I’m coming!"

She turned back to Delaney for one final second. She needed an excuse for lingering in the back of the shop.

She asked Delaney, her voice returning to the light, pleasant tone of a young lady shopping for clothes. "Which silk do you think His Grace would like best?"

Delaney immediately understood the play. She pointed to the beautiful, rich green silk she had been looking at earlier.

"The dark green, Lady Celine," Delaney replied smoothly. "It is a very elegant color. It would suit a Duchess beautifully."

Celine quickly grabbed the heavy bolt of dark green silk from the wooden shelf.

She looked at Delaney one last time. She did not speak, but she clearly mouthed the words, "Thank you."

Celine turned on her heel and rushed down the aisle toward her mother. She carried the heavy bolt of silk in her arms, completely blocking her mother’s view of the back of the shop.

"Here I am, Mama," Celine said breathlessly, holding the green fabric up for inspection as she met Lady Farrington halfway down the main aisle. "I was just looking at this green silk. Do you think it is suitable for an evening gown?"

Lady Farrington stopped and inspected the fabric critically. She reached out and rubbed the smooth silk between her fingers.

"It is acceptable," Lady Farrington declared dismissively, turning her sharp gaze away from the back of the shop. "But we must hurry. The dressmaker is waiting to take your final measurements for the satin. Bring it to the counter."

Delaney did not wait around to watch them leave.

The moment Celine turned the corner, Delaney quickly left that aisle. She moved silently through the rows of fabric, slipping out the side door of the shop to avoid being seen by Lady Farrington entirely. She could not risk the older woman recognizing her and reporting her presence back to Lord Farrington or her brother.

She stepped out into the crisp, cool afternoon air of the street. Hamish was standing exactly where she had left him, his eyes scanning the cobblestones for any sign of a threat.

Delaney took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the cold air fill her lungs. Her heart was racing with a mixture of pure adrenaline and profound hope.

The ledger.

It existed. It was sitting in a locked safe in Lord Farrington’s country estate, holding the absolute proof needed to clear her father’s name and send her uncle and Lord Hawksley to the gallows. And in exactly four days, Celine was going to hand it directly to her.

Inside the shop, Celine and her mother finished their demanding transactions. Lady Farrington paid the modiste and swept out of the door, her daughter following quietly behind her, completely obedient and perfectly silent.

Delaney watched their fine carriage roll away down the street, heading back toward the Farrington estate.

Delaney turned away, pulling her dark shawl tighter around her shoulders.

"Hamish," Delaney said, her voice dropping into a serious, quiet tone. "Take me to the apothecary."

Hamish nodded and led the horses down a narrower, quieter street near the edge of town.