A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 209 - Two Hundred And Nine

Flora handed the ledger to Rowan.

Her hands were trembling so badly she nearly dropped it. Rowan reached out and took the heavy book firmly from her grasp. The leather felt cold and slightly damp against his warm palms.

Rowan did not hesitate. He placed the heavy book on his lap and opened it.

He flipped past the first few blank pages. Then, he saw the dark ink. He scanned the neat, precise handwriting filling the columns. He read names, dates, amounts of gold, and locations of hidden warehouses.

Everything was there. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Rowan’s eyes scanned down the pages, moving rapidly. All the perfectly covered tracks were there, recorded in Lord Farrington’s own arrogant hand. He saw the payments made to corrupt port officials. He saw the massive sums of money exchanged for untaxed tobacco.

And then, his breath caught in his throat. He flipped back a few pages to the older entries.

There it was. He saw the exact date of the Oakridge silk scam twenty years ago. He saw the record of the payment Lord Farrington had received from Lord Hawksley.

Purchase of imported silks. Tainted batch.

Buyer: Lord Wesley Hawksley.

Rowan slowly closed the book. He rested his hand flat on the cracked leather cover. His heart was pounding a steady, victorious rhythm. He had the proof. He finally had the weapon he needed.

He looked at Flora. The young woman was watching him, her pale eyes filled with a mixture of hope and lingering terror.

Rowan knew he had one more difficult task to complete. He remembered the tragic request Delaney had written in her letter that very morning. Lady Celine simply wanted to know where the boy she loved was resting.

Rowan asked, his voice dropping into a very gentle, very respectful tone. He had one more question for her.

"Miss Flora," Rowan began softly, hating to bring up the terrible memory again. "Do you know where Lord Farrington buried Edward’s body?"

Flora’s reaction was immediate and heartbreaking. The moment she heard Edward’s name, her face crumpled.

Flora nodded her head, tears instantly welling in her tired eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut, and two large tears escaped, rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. She took a shuddering breath, trying to control her crying.

"He wasn’t buried, Your Grace," Flora whispered, her voice breaking on a harsh sob. She opened her eyes, looking at Rowan with profound sorrow. "Lord Farrington did not even allow him a Christian grave."

Rowan leaned forward slightly. "What did he do?"

Flora wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her trembling hand. "His body was loaded onto a cart in the dead of night. They took him to the cliffs near the old smuggling caves. His body was thrown into the sea for the fishes to eat. There is no grave. There is no marker. He was simply washed away. His family was told another story."

Rowan asked " What?"

" Lord Farrington lied that Edward forced himself on Celine." Flora continued. " He justified Edward’s death and made them sign a document promising not to say a word about it. If Celine’s reputation is ruined, Edward’s family would not live to see the next sunrise."

The sheer, cold-blooded cruelty of it was staggering. Lord Farrington had not only murdered the boy; he had entirely erased his existence from the earth, leaving Celine with absolutely nothing to mourn.

Rowan closed his eyes shut tightly at the ruthlessness. He felt a deep, sick twist in his stomach. He was a war hero who had seen terrible things on the battlefield, but the deliberate, calculated evil of an Earl protecting his pride was a different kind of horror altogether.

He opened his eyes. The anger in his chest was cold and perfectly focused. He would make Lord Farrington pay for every single tear shed by that young girl.

He looked at the weeping woman sitting before him.

"Thank you so much, Miss Flora," Rowan said.

He opened his eyes to look at her with a gentle, reassuring smile on his face. He wanted her to know that her bravery had not been in vain.

He stood up from his armchair, holding the ledger securely against his side.

"You can stay here in Hamilton House," Rowan promised her firmly. "You will be completely safe under my roof. You will stay here till Lord Farrington has received his punishment and the threat is entirely gone."

Flora looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes wide with disbelief. "Truly, Your Grace?"

"Truly," Rowan nodded. "And I have not forgotten my promise. I will send my best men immediately to protect your family in the countryside. No harm will come to them."

Flora let out a long, shuddering sigh. The heavy burden of fear she had carried for three years finally lifted entirely from her frail shoulders. She was incredibly relieved.

"Thank you so much, Your Grace," Flora whispered, bowing her head in profound gratitude. "May God bless you."

Rowan nodded his head respectfully.

He turned his head toward the double doors of the drawing room. He did not need to walk to the hallway. He simply raised his deep, commanding voice.

"Simmons!" Rowan called out loudly.

The doors opened almost immediately. Mr. Simmons stepped quickly into the room. He must have been waiting just outside the entire time, ready for his master’s orders.

Simmons came in and bowed deeply. "Your Grace?"

Rowan turned to the butler, his expression entirely serious.

"Simmons," Rowan instructed clearly. "Prepare a comfortable guest room for Miss Flora immediately. Escort her there and ensure she has a hot meal and anything else she requires. She is an honored guest of this house."

Simmons blinked slightly in surprise, but he quickly masked his reaction. "Of course, Your Grace."

"And then," Rowan added, his blue eyes narrowing with sharp focus. "Meet me in my study immediately after. We have a lot to do."

"Right away, Your Grace," Mr. Simmons replied. He bowed again and stepped back, holding the door open for the young woman.

Rowan stood up fully, smoothing the front of his crisp white shirt. He turned back to Flora.

"Make yourself at home, Miss Flora," Rowan offered kindly. "I am afraid I have some highly important things to do right now. But my sister and my aunt will host you according to the high Hamilton standards. You will not want for anything."

Flora stood up from the velvet sofa. She clutched her faded shoulder bag tightly, offering a deep, respectful curtsy.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Flora said softly, her voice filled with genuine peace.

Rowan watched as Simmons gently led the young woman out of the drawing room. The doors clicked shut behind them.

Rowan stood alone in the grand room for a brief moment. He looked down at the cracked leather of the ledger in his hand. He had the weapon. Now, he needed to strike the final, lethal blow.

He turned and walked briskly out of the drawing room. Everywhere was empty. Carcel, Ines and Aunt Margery had gone to their rooms. He went straight back to his private study.