The curtains were drawn tight, with only a sliver of sunlight passing through, and the fireplace was cold. The room smelled of beeswax, originating from a stub of a candle burning on Constance’s writing desk next to a stack of papers and a pen.
Constance lay on her bed with her hair loose, wearing only her chemise.
As Mrs. Quill slipped out of the room and shut the door, Olivia approached the desk. She touched a half-written letter, which was unsurprisingly addressed to Mr. Dawson.
“Father hates me,” Constance said.
Olivia sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand on Constance’s back. Her heart ached at the familiar scene. There had been no one to comfort her when she had sobbed after the earl had dismissed her with words of anger.
When Constance’s sobs quieted, Olivia crawled onto the bed beside her and leaned into the headboard. “You might not believe it, but I was once a girl on the cusp of womanhood, as you are.”
Constance sniffed. “A hundred years ago.”
Olivia made a mock sound of outrage. “How old do you think I am?”
“Sorry. Is this the story of how you met Lord Allen?”
“It is. Although it is probably not the romance you are expecting. When I met Lord Allen, he was a much older man who was adamant that we could never be anything but friends. Despite that, I quickly grew to care for him because he was the only person who listened to me. Who treated me like an adult.”
The transition from friendship to infatuation had happened quickly. One day she’d been telling him about her frustrations with her parents, the next, she’d been daydreaming about becoming the Countess of Allen.
“After I admitted I held feelings for him, he changed. He told me the most beautiful things. That I was his true love. That he could not bear to be parted from me.”
She chuckled. She had only discovered later he had cribbed the poems from old archives instead of creating them himself. The earl had been like that, expending the minimum effort to achieve his goals. He’d preferred to convince others to do his bidding than to dirty his own hands.
“When we finally married, I was so happy. The earl was a perfect husband. He showered me with love and affection.” She paused, remembering the moment her world had turned upside down. “As long as I was the perfect wife in return.”
She recalled the day she had finally realized how badly she had erred. It had been the day after he had locked her in her bedchamber for the first time, because she’d dared to wear a gown other than the one he had selected. It had scared her so badly that she’d sobbed for hours, trying to reconcile the shouting, angry man with the man she had married.
Only her elderly butler, Boris, had dared to bring her food when the earl had been in a temper. All the other servants had been terrified of the earl and what he would do to them if they’d tried to help her.
Then the earl had died, and it had felt as if a thousand heavy chains had slipped off her shoulders. She’d maintained the strictest of mourning rituals for the required two years, and then slowly, ever so slowly, had emerged as something new.
Lady Allen. Countess Dowager. Flirtatious, enterprising, clever. A woman every lady wanted in attendance at her events and every man desired in his bed. The most successful role she’d ever played.
Constance slid her hand into Olivia’s and squeezed. “I’m sorry he died.”
Olivia sighed. “I’m not. He was a cruel man. Marrying him was the worst mistake I ever made.” Now was her chance to connect her story back to Mr. Dawson, although if Constance had not caught the connection yet, then the girl might never understand. “What if Mr. Dawson is the same as the earl? What if he turns into the worst mistake of your life?”
Constance stiffened and curled into a tighter ball. “John isn’t like that.”
Olivia sighed. The girl was not yet ready to hear the truth. That meant her best option was to negotiate.
“A test, then,” she said. “To confirm he truly is the man you say he is.”
Constance uncurled and looked up with her bright eyes, her eyebrows furrowed. “What kind of test?”
Olivia’s mind raced. How could she tempt Dawson into revealing himself without putting the girl in actual danger? It had to be something Dawson would believe Constance had thought up herself.
She tried to remember how she had felt about the earl during the early days of their courtship. She had been so desperate for approval that she had made long lists of the earl’s strengths and shared them with anyone who would listen.
Olivia could not side with Constance without risking setting her against her father, but she could use the girl’s desperation against her.
“A man who truly loves you would not marry you if you did not want to, correct?”
Constance scrunched her nose. “But Idowant to marry him.”
“I recommend you tell him you want to wait until you are older to marry. That you want a longer courtship. If he agrees, then you will know he is a true gentleman.”
