Thel cringed but recognized that it was his turn. “Constance, I will not give my blessing for you to marry Mr. Dawson.”
Constance’s fingers turned pale on her teacup, but she did not speak. That was already an improvement over the pouting and whining he’d expected.
“Do you at least understand why I do not approve?” he asked. This was the chance she had to reveal if she had learned anything from Olivia’s lessons. Could she separate herself from her situation and analyze it critically, or had Dawson corrupted her mind so thoroughly that she was blind to his flaws? If so, then Thel would have to take more drastic action. He was prepared to spirit them to the new world if it came to that.
Constance stared into her tea. “John makes me feel like I am the most important and beautiful woman in the world.” She jutted her chin forward. “He might not be perfect, but I don’t want to give up on him. He’s already agreed to wait until I am one-and-twenty.”
He wanted to shout at her that the fortune Dawson claimed was a falsehood, but she had to discover the truth on her own. Otherwise, she might believe he was manipulating thefacts, or her mind. Her acceptance to wait was a stalemate, one he would accept.
“That is sufficient,” he said.
Constance smiled, and he saw some of the girl she had been in her eyes. The girl who’d danced in the flower beds and challenged the staff to duels with brooms instead of swords. He hadn’t seen that girl since they’d arrived in London, unless Olivia had been around. She’d drawn the fun out of Constance, and out of him, too. He missed that, missed seeing Olivia smile and following along with her whims. She was the most remarkable woman he had ever met.
And he had chased her from his house.
“Perhaps we should discussyourprospects next, Father?” Constance asked.
His mother nodded. “Yes, we should. He has made a rather foolish mistake.”
“Quite right,” Constance said. “I believe it is time I make decisions on his behalf, as he has been doing for me.”
He looked back and forth between them. “Are you referring to Lady Allen? Wait, no.” He laughed. “Of course you are. What else would you be talking about? I must agree. I was foolish.”
The clouds cleared in his mind. It didn’t matter that Olivia did not love him. His mother had not loved his father when they married, but they had developed friendship and affection, which had bloomed into love. He could have that, too.
If she was willing to give him another chance.
###
Thel should have been on his way to Olivia’s house, but fear kept him trapped in his seat. What if Olivia refused to see him? He didn’t want her simply in his bed. He wanted to wake up every morning to see her smile, to dance with Constance, to pretend to be knights or princesses or whatever struck theirfancy. Marguerite’s death had gouged a hole in his heart that had never properly healed, but he felt ready to move on.
“Thel?”
Thel jerked upright. Felix’s wife stood in the doorway with her hands clasped at her waist.
“Celina,” he said. “Is something the matter?”
She had never come to his office before. His mind immediately jumped to the worst possibility, and he rushed forward to meet her. “Is it the children? Has something happened to Alanna or Bennett?”
She shook her head. “No. I…I’ve come to confess.” She removed a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her cheeks, although he saw no tears.
“Confess what?” he asked.
“It’s all my doing.” Her chin trembled. “I-I wrote the letters. I used your title to convince theLondon Evening Standardto print them. I told the police that Lady Allen murdered her husband.”
He felt as if she had punched him in the chest. “You didwhat? Why?”
She dropped her gaze to the floor. “The Earl of Allen and I were in love.”
“You and the earl,” he said slowly. The news was such a shock that he was having trouble putting together sentences. He imagined Celina hunched over her writing desk, writing furiously, a scowl across her face. Olivia had been so sure it was Dawson, and he had believed her.
“Then who—” he started before Celina began speaking again.
“Felix is the one who sent Mr. Dawson after your daughter. My husband promised Constance’s dowry to Mr. Dawson in exchange for some”—she threw up her hands—“business deal. I haven’t the faintest idea of the details. Heis the one who convinced all the other matchmakers to turn you away. Now, if you will excuse me, brother.” She tilted her head up. “I have one final article left to commission.” Then she spun and left him standing in the middle of his office, his mind whirling.
Felix.
He had been so secure in his leadership over his family that he had failed to consider that his own brother was acting against him. But the blame could not be solely placed on Felix. Thel had dismissed his brother’s objections, hoping that Constance would find the same happiness that her parents and grandparents had found. Once again, he had allowed his own desires to outweigh the will of his brothers, and the result had been a disaster.
