“I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you,” he said. If he had listened to her from the beginning, none of what had happened might have occurred. He had been too stubborn and set in his ways. He should have realized what had been happening under his own roof. In attempting to keep his family together, he had asserted his desires over them, exactly as he had promised he would not.
Olivia pressed her cheek to his chest. “I forgive you.”
The sound of footfalls had her stepping back, and then Constable Smith returned, with Dawson in quick pursuit. For the first time, Thel saw fear on the man’s face.
“Where is she?” Dawson asked.
“Still inside,” Olivia said. “I would knock before you enter.”
Dawson paled. “You left them alone together?”
Thel shrugged. “They have been friends since they were children. If I cannot trust him, I cannot trust anyone.”
Dawson flung the door open.
Thel stayed where he was and couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face when he heard Dawson’s hiss of indrawn breath.
Olivia left his side and called, “Constance, are you ready to leave?”
“You can’t!” Dawson said. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then his face softened. “Connie. Darling. I’ve done so much for you. Are you really going to leave me now?”
Constance looked conflicted, but Mr. Ringwell tightened his arm around her. “Your tricks will not work on her anymore.”
Dawson bared his teeth. “You will never have her. I have taken her. She is mine. We will be married, and I will have her dowry as my own.”
Constance trembled. “What do you mean? John, I thought you said you didn’t need my dowry. You said—”
“Cease your chatter, girl!” He spun and drew back his hand, as if to strike her, but Mr. Ringwell yanked her out of the way.
Her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you doing this?”
“Tell her what you’ve done,” Thel said. “Or perhaps we should show you. Mr. Ringwell, bring Constance. Constable, there’s something you’ll want to see.”
Against Dawson’s complaints, Thel led them through the house until they reached the room where Dawson had stashed everything he had stolen. There were stacks of paintings on the floor, overturned bags of coins, and more jewelry than Olivia had ever seen in one place in her life.
Constance stepped inside and picked up a gold statue of a Pegasus with an ivory horn and diamonds for eyes. “This belongs to Lady Cowper. She said she lost it.” Constance clutched the statue to her chest and whirled on Dawson. “You never loved me, did you? Lady Allen was right. You were justusing me.” She put her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“Mr. Ringwell, take her outside,” Thel said. “Mr. Smith, I believe you’ll find this room contains many of the stolen items you have been searching for. In addition, Dawson kidnapped my daughter.”
“Would you testify as such?” The constable looked at Olivia. “Both of you?”
“Yes,” Olivia and Constance said at the same time.
The constable removed a pair of iron shackles from his pocket. “That is evidence enough for me.”
Chapter 29
After Constable Smith had left with Dawson, Olivia found Mr. Ringwell holding a sobbing Constance in his arms.
“It is worse than we thought,” Thel said. He looked even more grim than she felt. “We cannot be certain if she was seen leaving London with Dawson. If she was, and we do not return with news of a wedding, she will be ruined.”
Constance sobbed harder. Mr. Ringwell clutched her close. “I won’t let her return in disgrace. I’ll marry her. No one will know that it was Dawson in the carriage instead of me.”
The past was repeating itself, except it was Constance in Olivia’s shoes. How had she let this happen? She wanted to scream and pound her fists on the ground. Constance was still a child, despite what society might think.
She pushed away from Mr. Ringwell and stood, trembling, before her father. “I will bear whatever shame I must. You’ve done enough for me, Father.” Her eyes got watery again. “And Sam—Mr. Ringwell has sacrificed enough. I’ve made this mistake. I won’t let others suffer because of it.”
It truly seemed that they were left in an impossible position. Either Constance would marry and become a bride far too soon, or they would return to London, and she would have to weather the scandal of whatever society decided she had done.
