A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 53 - Fifty Three

The morning sun had barely begun to warm the brick walls of Hamilton House when the silence of the Blue Guest Suite was broken.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound was sharp and rhythmic. It was not a tentative tap; it was a summons.

Delaney Kingsley groaned. She buried her face deeper into the feather pillow, trying to block out the world. She had not slept well. Her dreams had been filled with phaetons, brown coats, and the haunting melody of a French lullaby.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Go away," Delaney mumbled into the linens. " I am still sleeping. I don’t need anything."

"Miss Kingsley?" A voice called through the thick oak door. It was polite but firm.

Delaney rolled onto her back. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. She felt heavy, as if her limbs were made of lead.

"Who is it?" She said, her voice filled with sleep. It came out as a raspy croak. " What do you want from me?"

"His Grace sent us to get you ready," the voice replied.

Delaney blinked. She stared at the canopy of the bed, the silk curtains gathered in neat pleats. Her brain was slow to wake up.

"What does he want now?" Was the first question that penetrated through the fog in her head.

"Get me ready?" Delaney murmured to herself. "For what? Is the house on fire? Is there a duel? Did something tragic happen?

She sat up slowly, pushing her messy hair out of her face. She raised her voice.

"Get me ready for what?" she asked.

"For the day, Miss," the voice answered. "His Grace is waiting."

Delaney raised her brow in confusion. It was barely dawn. The light filtering through the curtains was gray and pale. Rowan usually slept until eight. He was not a man who enjoyed the sunrise unless he was coming home from a card game.

"Can we come in?" the voice asked.

Delaney sighed. She pulled the quilt up to her chin.

"Please do," she replied.

The door opened.

Delaney expected Sarah, the maid who usually helped her.

Instead, a procession entered.

They came in a line of four young women. They wore crisp uniforms and serious expressions. They moved with synchronized efficiency.

The first maid carried a dress. It was draped over her arms like a royal flag. It was a deep, rich burgundy velvet, trimmed with gold lace. It looked heavy. It looked expensive.

The second maid carried a wooden box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. She held it with both hands, as if it contained the Crown Jewels.

The third maid carried a pair of shoes on a velvet cushion. They were burgundy satin with a small heel.

The fourth maid, a sturdy girl with red cheeks, carried a large pitcher of steaming water. The scent of lavender and rose oil filled the room instantly.

Delaney blinked. She sat up straighter, clutching the sheets.

"What is going on here?" She asked. The confusion was now evident on her face. Her eyes darted from the velvet dress to the jewelry box. "Is someone getting married? Have I forgotten a wedding?"

The head of the girls, a woman Delaney recognized as the housekeeper’s second-in-command, stepped forward. She bobbed a curtsy.

"No wedding, Miss Kingsley," the maid said. "His Grace is going to negotiate a business deal this morning. He wants you to accompany him."

Delaney frowned. "A business deal?"

She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was seven in the morning.

"Why didn’t he tell me first?" Delaney asked, irritation beginning to replace the sleepiness. "I saw him yesterday. He said nothing of business."

"It was a sudden development, Miss," the maid replied smoothly. She gestured for the other girls to set down their burdens. "He kept getting rejected by the investors for weeks. Last night, a letter of approval just came in. A special courier arrived at midnight."

Delaney rubbed her temples. "Midnight."

"Yes, Miss. He felt he needed to strike while the iron was hot, as they say. He couldn’t disturb your sleep at such an hour."

"So he disturbs it now," Delaney muttered under her breath.

"He requires your presence immediately," the maid added. "The carriage leaves in one hour."

Delaney looked at the dress again. It was beautiful. It was the kind of dress a Duchess would wear to intimidate her enemies.

"Why me?" Delaney asked. "I am a matchmaker. I know nothing of his business."

The maid began to pour the hot water into the basin.

"He requires a family member, Miss," the maid explained. "To show stability. To show that the House of Hamilton is united and respectable. It puts the investors at ease."

Delaney sighed. It made sense. In the world of high-stakes business, perception was everything. A bachelor Duke could be seen as reckless. A Duke with family support looked like a pillar of society.

"Let’s get this over with," Delaney said as she sighed.

She threw back the covers and stepped out of bed. The floor was cold against her bare feet.

The next hour was a blur of activity.

The maids did not let her lift a finger. They scrubbed her skin with scented sponges until she glowed. They brushed her hair until it shone like obsidian, then pinned it up in a complex, elegant style that added two inches to her height.

Then came the dress.

The burgundy velvet was heavy. It slid over her head, settling onto her frame like a suit of armor. The maid tightened the corset—not as violently as the teal dress, but enough to ensure she stood perfectly straight.

"Breathe in, Miss Kingsley," the maid commanded.

Delaney inhaled and the hooks were fastened.

The dress was modest in cut, with long sleeves and a high neck, but the fabric spoke of immense wealth. It was the color of old wine.

The second maid opened the jewelry box.

Inside lay a set of garnets set in gold. A heavy necklace, drop earrings, and a bracelet.