Delaney smoothed her dress. It had a pop of color.
It was a soft, pale lavender. It wasn’t as bold as the burgundy velvet, nor as bright as the teal. It was subtle, elegant, and floral. It had white lace at the cuffs and a high, modest neckline.
It was beautiful. And Delaney hated it.
She felt like a fraud. Every ti she caught her reflection in the glass of the window, she saw a stranger. She saw "Cousin Delaney," a woman who didn’t exist.
"Miss Kingsley," Aunt Margery barked. "Chin up! You look delightful. Lavender brings out the mystery in your eyes."
"It brings out my anxiety," Delaney muttered to herself.
"Rember," Aunt Margery continued, waving her cane. "Keep up the cousin act. You are family. You belong here. If Lady Farrington asks, your mother was a Hamilton from the Scottish branch and you married a Kingsley. Keep the story simple."
"Yes, Lady Margery," Delaney said.
"Let’s go," Rowan said. He turned away from the mirror.
He looked at Delaney.
His eyes swept over the lavender dress. He paused. For a second, the anxiety in his face was replaced by sothing softer. He looked like he wanted to say sothing. You look beautiful. This color suits you.
But he didn’t. He cleared his throat.
"We must not keep them waiting ," Rowan said.
They walked out of the drawing room and into the grand foyer.
The great double doors of Hamilton House were thrown open.
Sunlight flooded into the marble hall.
Lady Farrington walked in first. She swept into the house like a queen claiming a new territory. Her lavender silk rustled loudly.
Behind her ca Celine.
She stepped into the light, blinking. When she saw the group assembled to et her, her face lit up.
"Welco," Rowan said. He stepped forward. He bowed low, perfectly elegant. "Welco to Hamilton House."
"Your Grace," Lady Farrington said, dipping into a deep curtsy.
Celine curtsied as well. "Your Grace."
Rowan moved to the side. He gestured to his family.
"May I present my aunt, Lady Margery," Rowan said.
Margery bead. She shifted Fifi to one hand and extended the other.
"Chard, my dears!" Margery bood. "Welco! Fifi welcos you too!"
Fifi yapped.
"And my sister, Her Grace, the Duchess of Carleton ," Rowan continued. "And her husband, the Duke of Carleton."
Ines stepped forward. She smiled. It was a polite, assessing smile.
"Lady Farrington," Ines said. "Lady Celine. It is a pleasure."
"And the little one?" Celine asked, looking at the baby. "Oh, he is adorable!"
"This is Harry," Ines said. "He is currently deciding if he likes you."
Harry stared at Celine. Then, he blew a spit bubble.
"I think that is a yes," Carcel laughed.
"And finally," Rowan said. His voice grew a little tighter. "My cousin. Miss Kingsley."
Delaney stepped forward. She felt everyone’s eyes on her. Especially Lady Farrington’s sharp, calculating gaze.
Delaney bobbed a curtsy. "My Lady. Lady Celine."
"Miss Kingsley," Lady Farrington said coolly. "We t briefly at the morning call. A pleasure."
"The pleasure is mine," Delaney lied smoothly.
Lady Farrington turned back to Rowan. She looked over her shoulder at the open door, as if expecting soone else to walk in.
"Forgive my brother for his lateness," Lady Farrington spoke to Rowan. "He was supposed to accompany us. He got held up with sothing at his club. He can be terribly unreliable with ti."
Delaney froze.
Her brother? Soone else is coming?
"It’s fine," Rowan smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "We are happy to have you. Let’s all go inside. Tea is served in the drawing room."
"Thank you," Lady Farrington said.
They all went inside.
The drawing room was bathed in afternoon light. The fire crackled cheerfully.
They sat in a loose circle. Lady Farrington and Celine took the sofa. Aunt Margery took her wing chair, with Fifi on her lap. Ines and Carcel sat on the loveseat with the baby.
Rowan and Delaney sat on separate chairs, slightly apart from the main group.
Aunt Margery took charge imdiately. She had decided that Celine was perfect to converse with, and she was delighted.
During their conversation, Aunt Margery took a liking to Celine.
"So, my dear," Margery said, leaning forward. "Do you like dogs?"
"Oh, yes," Celine said, smiling at Fifi. "I have a spaniel at our country estate. His na is Barnaby."
"Barnaby!" Margery clapped her hands. "A sensible na. And do you play music?"
"I play the pianoforte," Celine answered gracefully. "And the harp. Though I admit, I am better at the harp."
"The harp!" Margery swooned. "How angelic. Rowan needs a harpist in the house. It soothes the nerves."
Rowan forced a smile. "Indeed."
Margery continued her interrogation. She asked about flowers. She asked about embroidery. She asked about France.
Celine answered every question perfectly. she was sweet. She was polite. She was everything a debutante should be.
Delaney sat in her chair, holding her own teacup. She watched Celine.
She couldn’t hate her. It was impossible to hate soone so genuinely nice. Celine wasn’t a villain. She was just... sunshine.
She looked at Rowan. He was watching Celine too. He was nodding at the right tis. He was smiling at the right tis. But his hand was gripping the arm of his chair so hard his knuckles were white.
He is bored, Delaney realized. He is bored, and he is terrified.
Just then, the doors opened.
Mr. Simmons entered. He carried a silver tray with a single calling card on it. He walked straight to Rowan.
"Your Grace," Simmons said softly. "You have a guest."
Rowan looked at the card.
He read the na.
He stood up abruptly.
"He’s here," Rowan said.
The room went silent. Everyone looked at him.
"Who is here?" Lady Farrington asked, perking up. "Is it my brother?"
Rowan nodded. "Yes. He has arrived."
"Oh, wonderful!" Lady Margery said. "Send him in, Simmons."
"No," Rowan said quickly.
Lady Farrington blinked. "No?"
"I an," Rowan corrected himself, smoothing his coat. "He... he requested a private audience first. Business. Regarding the railway."
He looked at Lady Farrington with an apologetic smile.
"I need to go," Rowan said. "Business calls. I shall greet him in the study and then bring him to join you shortly."
"Business?" Lady Farrington frowned. "Now? We just arrived."
"It is urgent," Rowan said. "Railway shares wait for no man, not even for tea."
He bowed to the ladies.
"Please, excuse ," he said politely. "Ines, Aunt Margery, please entertain our guests."
"Of course," Ines said slowly, her eyes narrowing. She knew he was running away from sothing.
Rowan turned and walked out of the room. He walked fast.
Delaney watched him go. She felt a knot of panic in her stomach. She looked down at her lavender dress. She looked at Lady Farrington, who was now complaining about her brother’s rudeness.
She felt sothing. Anxiety. Or is it fear. She didn’t know but she was sure that sothing was wrong.
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