Delaney was sure she had misheard. Fifty thousand pounds? That was a fortune. That was enough to buy a castle. No! It was enough to buy a country. How much is the Hamilton family worth?
Lady Margery watched her cough. She frowned. She misunderstood the reaction entirely.
"Isn't it enough?" Margery asked, looking concerned.
Delaney opened her mouth to say, 'It is too much, it is a king's ransom,' but she couldn't get the words out. She was still wheezing.
Margery tapped her finger on the table. "You are a tough negotiator, Miss Kingsley. I respect that. Very well."
Margery leaned forward.
"I will increase it to sixty thousand pounds."
Delaney's mind spiraled out of control. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.
Is this real? she thought. The teacup rattled in its saucer. No, I'm dreaming. I fell asleep in my gray dress and I am having a fever dream.
She did the math instantly.
Twenty thousand for her uncle's debt to Lord Hawksley. That would save her life.
Twenty thousand for her parents legal fees. That would find their killer and give them the punishment they deserve.
That left twenty thousand pounds for herself.
Twenty thousand pounds. She could buy the cottage by the sea. She could buy ten cottages. She could buy a library. She could buy colorful dresses for the rest of her life and burn the gray ones in a bonfire.
It would cover all her savings and still give her a good life for five more years. No, for fifty more years if she was careful.
Delaney forced herself to breathe. She forced her heart to stop hammering against her ribs. She lowered the handkerchief. She composed her face into a mask of calm consideration, though her hands were shaking beneath the table.
"I think..." Delaney said, her voice slightly raspy from the coughing. "I think I can work with that."
Aunt Margery clapped her hands together. She looked delighted. "Perfect! I knew you were a sensible woman."
Delaney took a deep breath. She needed to know the catch. There was always a catch with this kind of money.
"What are the terms?" Delaney asked.
"Simple," Margery said. "You have three to six months to drag him to the aisle. I don't care who he marries, as long as she is respectable, breathing, and willing to give him children. But you must be hands-on, Miss Kingsley. You cannot do this from a distance."
"Hands-on?" Delaney repeated.
"You will live in the Hamilton mansion till your job is over," Margery announced. "You will be his shadow. You will fix his schedule, you will vet the women, you will tell him which tie to wear. You will move in tomorrow."
Delaney's eyebrows shot up. She nearly choked again.
"Live in Hamilton House?" Delaney asked. "With the Duke? Alone?"
"Well, not alone," Margery said. "There are fifty servants. And I will be there for the Season. But yes, you will reside there."
Delaney raised a brow. "Won't that cause a scandal, my lady? An unmarried woman living in a bachelor's house? Even with you there, the ton loves to gossip."
It was a valid point. In London society, reputations were ruined for much less. If anyone found out she was a matchmaker living with a Duke, the scandal sheets would explode.
Aunt Margery smirked. It was a wicked, delightful expression. She leaned back in her chair and looked at Delaney with amusement.
"Isn't that why you charge so much at times?" Margery asked. "For someone like you, who doesn't care about societal norms? You are Madame Coeur. You live in the shadows. And besides..."
Margery leaned in, whispering conspiratorially.
"I will introduce you as a distant cousin from the North. A poor relation who has come to work as my secretary. No one looks twice at poor relations. You will be invisible."
Delaney stared at the older woman.
She thought to herself, His aunt is smart. I like her.
Margery was right. Delaney's gray dress was designed to make her invisible. She had spent her whole life being overlooked. She could do it for six months. For sixty thousand pounds, she would dress up as a potted plant if she had to.
"Is it feasible for you?" Aunt Margery asked.
Delaney thought of the three empty tins on her vanity table. Debt. Justice. Freedom.
She looked at Margery. She nodded slowly.
"Very," Delaney said. "It is very feasible."
"Excellent!" Aunt Margery clapped her hands again. "Jenkins!"
The butler appeared from behind a rose bush as if by magic. He was carrying a heavy velvet bag. He placed it on the table. It landed with a heavy, metallic thud that made the teacups rattle.
"This is third of the payment," Margery said casually. "Twenty thousand pounds. In bank notes and gold. You will get the remaining forty after the job is done. Consider it an incentive."
Delaney stared at the bag. It was right there. An arm's length away.
She had to use every ounce of her willpower not to grab it and run. She had to control herself. She had to remain the professional "Madame Coeur."
She nodded solemnly. She reached out and pulled the bag closer to her. It was heavy. It felt like salvation.
"I will not let you down, Lady Margery,"
Delaney said.
"I know you won't," Margery said. She stood up. "Now, go home and pack. Pack everything. You will need your rest. Dealing with Rowan is like trying to herd cats."
Delaney stood up. She picked up her leather bag in one hand and the heavy velvet sack in the other.
"I'll send a carriage to pick you up tomorrow at noon," Aunt Margery finished. "Do not be late. And Miss Kingsley?"
Delaney turned back. "Yes, my lady?"
Margery smiled. "Bring your patience. You are going to need it."
Delaney walked back down the garden path. The butler escorted her to the waiting carriage.
As she climbed inside, clutching the bag of money to her chest, Delaney let out a long, shaky breath.
She was rich. She was incredibly rich.
All she had to do was find a wife for the man she had insulted in an alleyway yesterday.
"Easy," she whispered, though her stomach did a nervous flip. "How hard can one Duke be?"
The carriage rolled away, leaving the peaceful garden behind.