The news that Delaney Kingsley had finally opened her eyes spread through Hamilton House like a sudden, warm burst of sumr sunlight on a cold winter day.
Within minutes of Rowan leaving the bedchamber, the door opened again. A small, joyful crowd hurried into the room, their faces completely bright with undeniable relief.
Aunt Margery was the very first to reach the bed. She practically ran across the soft carpet, her simple morning dress rustling loudly.
Margery reached out with both hands and gently took Delaney’s pale hand, holding it delicately between her own warm palms. She looked down at the young woman, her eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness.
"How are you, my sweet child?" Aunt Margery asked, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. Her eyes quickly scanned the white bandage on Delaney’s head. "Does it hurt terribly?"
Delaney looked up at the older woman who had welcod her so warmly into the Duke’s ho. She offered Margery a soft, genuinely grateful smile.
Delaney shook her head very slowly, careful not to jostle her healing wound. "I am fine, Aunt Margery. It truly does not hurt as much as it did before. Just a dull ache."
Ines stepped forward next. She had a wide, completely uncharacteristic smile on her face.
She leaned over the large bed and hugged Delaney. It was a careful, incredibly gentle hug, mindful of Delaney’s bruised ribs, but it was filled with deep warmth.
"You did so well, Delaney," Ines whispered softly near her ear, her voice thick with pride. "You faced terrible monsters and you won. I am so incredibly proud of you, Lady Kingsley."
Delaney felt a warm blush rise to her pale cheeks at the sound of her true, official title.
She nodded her head against Ines’s shoulder.
"Thank you so much, Ines," Delaney replied softly, pulling back slightly to look into the Duchess’s kind eyes. "Thank you for taking care of when I arrived."
Before Ines could answer, a small, excited voice broke the quiet conversation.
"De-waa-ney!"
Little Harry ran forward, pulling away from his mother. He reached the side of the tall bed. He stood on his tiptoes and stretched his small, chubby hands up into the air, reaching urgently for Delaney. He wanted her to carry him.
Despite her terrible weakness and her aching ribs, Delaney’s heart completely lted at the sight of the sweet boy.
She smiled widely and reached her arms out. With a small, careful effort, she lifted the little boy up and settled him gently into her lap, resting him against the blankets.
Harry imdiately giggled happily. He wrapped his small arms around her neck in a tight, ssy hug, burying his face in her dark hair. Delaney held the boy closely in her arms, resting her chin lightly on the top of his head.
Standing quietly near the foot of the bed, holding her hands neatly in front of her, was Celine.
She wore a simple, dark blue day dress. She looked completely different from the terrified, pale girl who had been a puppet and a pawn all her life. She looked peaceful, grounded, and incredibly strong.
Celine stepped forward slightly and offered a small, respectful curtsy.
"We are all so very glad you are awake, Lady Kingsley," Celine spoke, her light blue eyes filled with genuine, profound relief.
Delaney looked at Celine and offered a warm, welcoming smile. She knew exactly what it felt like to survive a toxic family, and she felt a deep, unspoken bond with the Earl’s daughter.
"Please, Celine," Delaney corrected her gently, shaking her head slightly. "Just call Delaney. We do not need formal titles between us."
Celine’s polite smile widened into a true, happy grin. "Delaney, then. Of course."
The joyful reunion was suddenly interrupted by a firm, polite knock on the open door.
The doctor entered the bedchamber. He carried his black leather dical bag and looked very serious. When he saw the small crowd gathered tightly around the bed, he frowned slightly.
"Pardon the interruption, Your Grace, ladies," the doctor announced clearly, placing his bag on a nearby side table. "But I must insist you all leave the room for a short while. I need to conduct a thorough dical examination of the patient, and she requires absolute quiet."
Aunt Margery nodded in complete, imdiate understanding. She gently patted Delaney’s arm one last ti.
"He is perfectly right," Aunt Margery spoke to the group, shooing them gently toward the door like a mother hen. "We have overwheld her enough for one morning. We will all co back later to visit when you have rested quite enough, my dear."
Delaney nodded her head in agreent, offering them a tired but happy smile. She handed little Harry carefully back to his mother.
The small group filed quietly out of the large bedchamber, closing the door softly behind them.
The doctor approached the bed. He checked Delaney’s pulse, examined the white bandages on her head, and gently inspected the fading purple bruises on her neck. He asked her several questions about her vision and her mory.
"You are recovering remarkably well, Lady Kingsley," the doctor finally announced, closing his black bag. "You are a very strong young woman. However, I instruct that you still need lots of absolute rest. No walking up and down the stairs for at least another week. And you must eat heartily to regain your lost strength."
Delaney nodded her head respectfully. "I understand, Doctor. Thank you."
The doctor bowed politely and left the room.
In a few short minutes, the door opened again.
Rowan walked in. He was no longer wearing his formal morning coat. He had changed into a comfortable, dark blue velvet smoking jacket. He carried a large silver tray in his hands.
He walked directly to the side of the bed and sat down gently on the mattress facing her. He placed the tray carefully on his lap.
"I had the kitchen prepare this with extra love." He said with a smile on his face.
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