A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 206 - Two Hundred And Six

Flora stared at him. The title Duke of Ford was famous throughout the city. He was known as a war hero, a man of strict honor. And the way his voice softened with pure devotion when he spoke of the young woman was undeniable.

Slowly, the tense, frightened lines of Flora’s face began to relax. Her hands stopped twisting the fabric of her skirt.

Flora nodded her head, a small, jerky movement of surrender.

Rowan smiled. It was a genuine, deeply grateful smile.

"Thank you," Rowan said softly. He gestured toward the velvet sofa. "Please, sit down. You have nothing to fear in this house."

Flora slowly lowered herself back onto the edge of the sofa. Rowan walked to a matching armchair sitting opposite her and sat down. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, putting himself on her level so he did not tower over her.

Flora looked down at her worn boots for a moment, gathering her courage. Then, she looked up and met his eyes.

"I have one request," Flora spoke. Her voice was no longer shaking. It was filled with a desperate, fierce determination.

Rowan did not blink. "Go ahead."

Flora leaned forward, her hands clasping tightly together in her lap.

"If I tell you what I know," Flora spoke, her pale eyes searching his face, "if I give you the secrets that man has buried... you will protect my family and me. You will send us far away from London, somewhere he can never, ever find us."

Rowan understood the sheer gravity of her request. She was asking him to shield her from the wrath of a wealthy, ruthless Earl. It was a massive undertaking, but it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

Rowan nodded his head. His expression was completely serious, his jaw set with absolute resolve. He did not offer a vague promise; he offered an ironclad vow.

"Consider it done," Rowan stated firmly. "My men will pack your belongings today. I will provide a carriage, a safe home on one of my northern estates, and enough money to ensure you and your family never have to work in fear again. You have my absolute word as a Duke."

Flora stared at him for a long, silent moment. She saw the total, unflinching honesty in his face.

She let out a massive, shuddering sigh of relief. The heavy burden she had carried for years seemed to physically lift from her frail shoulders. She slumped slightly against the velvet cushions, her eyes closing briefly in silent thanks.

When she opened her eyes again, the fear was completely gone, replaced by a quiet, steady readiness.

"What do you want to know, Your Grace?" Flora asked softly.

Rowan leaned closer. His mind began to sort through the puzzle pieces he already held. Delaney had written that Lord Farrington was blackmailing Lord Hawksley with a hidden ledger. But Rowan needed to know what Lord Farrington was doing now. He needed to know why the Earl was so incredibly desperate to force a marriage and gain the Hamilton name.

Rowan thought to himself, carefully framing his question to get the most direct answer.

He asked, his voice low and intense, "What is Lord Farrington hiding?"

Flora did not answer the question directly. Instead, she looked at Rowan with a very sad, very old expression.

Flora replied with a question of her own. "Do you know Edward Fitz?"

The name struck Rowan like a physical blow to the chest.

Rowan froze. He stared at the younger woman, his mind reeling. Edward Fitz. It was the exact same name Delaney had written in her letter just a few hours ago. It was the name of the murdered stable boy. It was the name of the young man Lady Celine wept for in secret.

Rowan thought to himself, completely bewildered by the sudden connection. What does Edward have to do with this? Edward was a tragic victim of a forbidden romance. How does a dead stable boy connect to an Earl’s hidden crimes?

Rowan swallowed hard, keeping his face composed despite the sudden shock.

He answered, his voice careful and measured. "Yes, I know him. He was the young stable boy who worked at the Farrington estate. I was told he was shot because he wanted to elope with Lord Farrington’s daughter, Lady Celine."

Flora looked at him. A bitter, tragic smile touched the corners of her wrinkled mouth. She slowly shook her head, dismissing the romantic, tragic lie the Ton had been fed.

She corrected him, her voice dropping into a cold, hard whisper. "No, Your Grace. That is the lie the Earl spun to excuse the blood on his hands. He was not killed for love."

She leaned closer, her pale eyes locking onto Rowan’s.

"He was killed because of the secret he knew," Flora stated firmly.

Rowan’s breath caught sharply in his throat. The air in the drawing room suddenly felt incredibly cold.

His eyes widened in absolute, complete surprise. The pieces of the puzzle began to violently shift and rearrange themselves in his mind. The tragic love story of a cruel father protecting his daughter’s honor was a complete fabrication. It was a perfectly designed cover story to hide a much darker, much more dangerous reality.

"What?" Rowan gasped, the single word escaping his lips in pure disbelief.

Flora nodded her head, confirming the terrible truth. Her face was grim and completely serious.

Rowan shook his head slowly, his brow furrowing as he tried to grasp the magnitude of her words.

"I don’t understand," Rowan replied, his voice a low, rough murmur. "What secret could a simple stable boy possibly know that would force an Earl to murder him in cold blood?"

Flora looked down at her hands for a brief second, gathering the strength to speak the final, damning truth aloud. When she looked back up, her eyes were filled with a fierce, demanding justice for the boy who had lost his life.

Flora replied, her voice ringing clear and steady in the quiet room.

"Lord Farrington killed Edward," Flora revealed, the weight of the confession heavy in the air, "because Edward accidentally discovered the hidden coastal warehouses. Edward knew of the Lord’s massive, illegal smuggling business."