A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 213 - Two Hundred And Thirteen

The cold, biting country wind blew fiercely against the small, open carriage, tearing at Delaney’s pale cheeks and pulling at the loose strands of her dark hair.

The carriage ride from the Kingsley estate to town was incredibly fast. Hamish

drove the single-horse carriage with deep concentration. His hands guided the sturdy brown horse over the rough, uneven dirt roads, expertly steering the wooden wheels away from the deep, muddy puddles left behind by the recent evening rains.

Delaney sat quietly on the leather seat just behind him. She held her thick, dark woolen shawl tightly around her narrow shoulders, pulling the fabric close to her neck to keep the biting morning cold away. Yet, despite the heavy wool, a deep, persistent chill still managed to seep directly into her bones.

It was not just the weather making her shiver. It was the absolute, heavy reality of what she was about to do.

Her mind was moving just as fast as the spinning wooden carriage wheels beneath her. Tomorrow, she would finally leave her uncle’s suffocating house. Tomorrow, she would escape en route from Hawksley’s carriage to the Hamilton’s house. She thought of Rowan’s handsome face, his bright, piercing brown eyes, and his deep, incredibly comforting voice. She thought of the letters he had sent her, the one she had hidden safely in her travel bag, where he had lovingly called himself her "Golden Puppy."

A small, genuine, and highly secret smile touched her soft lips. She could not wait to see him again. She could not wait to be wrapped securely in his strong, protective arms, far, far away from the dark lies, the greed, and the casual cruelty of the world.

But today, she had to complete the single most dangerous task of her entire plan. She had to secure the blackmail ledger.

The carriage rattled loudly over a small bridge, and soon, they reached the edge of the bustling town. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The narrow, winding cobblestone streets were already crowded with busy people, wooden delivery carts, and stray dogs looking for scraps of food near the bakeries. The loud, chaotic sounds of local merchants shouting their daily prices, horses neighing loudly, and carriage wheels clattering over the stones filled the crisp morning air.

Hamish sat up perfectly straight. He steered the brown horse very carefully through the busy, crowded market area. He navigated the tight, difficult corners perfectly, ignoring the angry shouts of a farmer trying to move a cart of apples. Finally, he pulled the carriage up neatly in front of the dressmaker’s shop.

"Wait exactly here, Hamish," Delaney instructed softly as she prepared to climb down from the small metal step. She kept her voice very low, mindful of the many people walking past them on the busy street. "Keep the carriage ready to leave at a moment’s notice. If we need to leave quickly, I do not want to wait for the horse to be untied from the post."

"Yes, Miss Kingsley," Hamish nodded firmly.

He kept his gloved hands firmly gripped on the leather reins. He looked around the busy street with sharp, highly watchful eyes. He was a highly trained guard of the Hamilton family, and he took his duty to protect this young woman very seriously. He sat up perfectly straight on the driver’s box, entirely alert, making sure no suspicious men were lingering near the shop windows.

Delaney turned away from the cold street and pushed the door of the shop open.

The cheerful, shiny brass bell chimed brightly above her head, announcing her arrival to everyone inside. The sound was incredibly loud and happy, completely contrasting with the dark, serious, and highly dangerous mood beating heavily in Delaney’s own heart.

The shop was entirely empty of other customers at that early hour of the morning. The large room was incredibly warm, heated by a small coal fire in the corner, and it smelled pleasantly of dried lavender, rose water, and crisp, fresh linen. Large, heavy rolls of beautiful, highly expensive fabrics were stacked high on the polished wooden shelves lining the walls. There were vibrant pink silks, deep red velvets, and soft white muslins waiting to be turned into beautiful ballgowns.

The dressmaker, Madame D, was a plump, cheerful woman with a measuring tape draped casually around her neck. She was standing behind the long, polished wooden counter at the very front of the shop. She was sorting carefully through a large wooden box filled with delicate, expensive white lace trims.

"Ah, Miss Kingsley!" the dressmaker smiled warmly, looking up from her intricate, delicate work. "Good morning to you, my dear. You are quite early today. Did you come to check on the final alterations for your wedding gown?"

Delaney forced her tight facial muscles to relax. She pushed down her rising anxiety and offered a polite, slightly tense smile.

"Good morning, Madame," Delaney replied, her voice soft and perfectly pleasant. "The gown is fine, I am sure. I am just here to browse for a few moments, if you do not mind. I wish to look at some green ribbons to match my traveling hat."

"Of course, of course! Take all the time you need," the dressmaker replied happily, returning her full attention to her wooden box of lace. "The ribbons are in the back, on the left side."

Delaney walked slowly toward the back of the shop. She kept her steps very light and quiet on the creaking wooden floorboards. She moved past the tall bolts of bright yellow and red cottons, completely ignoring the beautiful colors that would normally catch her eye. She headed directly for the narrow, deeply shadowed aisle in the very back of the shop, exactly where she had met Lady Celine Farrington days ago.

She stepped into the narrow aisle.

It was completely empty.

Delaney stopped walking. Her heart skipped a painful, incredibly heavy beat. She looked over her shoulder, but there was no one there. She looked at the tall clock ticking quietly in the far corner of the shop. The brass hands showed the exact hour. It was exactly the time they had agreed upon during their hurried, desperate whisper.

Where was Celine?

Delaney pressed her back flat against the tall wooden shelf, hiding herself completely from the main view of the shop counter. Her breathing became shallow and fast.

Had Lord Farrington discovered Celine’s secret plan? Had the cruel, calculating Earl noticed the missing brass key to his hidden safe? Had he caught Celine trying to open the heavy iron door in the dead of night?

The terrible, horrifying thought of Celine being caught stealing the blackmail ledger made Delaney feel physically sick to her stomach. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck.

She remembered the tragic, bloody story Miss Flora had told Rowan. Lord Farrington, a ruthless, heartless monster who had shot a young, innocent man dead without a second thought. If he found out his own daughter was betraying him to his worst enemies, what would he do to her? Had he locked his weeping daughter in her room, exactly as Cole had done to Eunice? Or had he done something far, far worse?