Page 60 of Mentor to the Marquess
His mother put her hand on his back. “Oh, Thel. I should have told you years ago, but your father insisted we maintain the fairy tale. My marriage was arranged.”
Thel felt as if someone had kicked him in the chest. His whole life he had believed that his parents had fallen in love over a whirlwind weekend, that they had married within days of meeting and then had a fulfilling life filled with laughter and children.
He had never questioned the story, even as his brothers had teased him. He had clung to the fairy tale throughout his adolescence and his courtship of Marguerite. Finding out that it was not true made something deep inside him crack, and then shatter.
“I should have arranged Constance’s marriage from the start,” he said.
His mother grabbed his cheeks. “Listen here, Thel. I will not have you acting the fool. Your brother has done more than enough of that.” She dropped her hands. “I despised your father in the beginning. He was a cold man. The only time he revealed his true self was in our bed.”
Thel cleared his throat. “Mother, I would rather not hear—”
She chuckled. “Yes, yes, a man does not want to know of his mother’s bed play. I understand. The point remains valid. Your father and I fell in love over time. Friendship blossomed between us first, before turning to affection, and finally love. The story I gave you was true, although accelerated. It was not days, but months. Your father slowly revealed more of himself to me, and I did the same.” She sighed. “If love could be found so easily, there would be far fewer matchmakers operating in London. Much like that woman you were involved with. What became of her?”
“I dismissed her.”
His mother’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”
“I didn’t want her to disrupt the family.” Before his mother could argue, he barged ahead. “Your story only emphasizes that I should not allow Constance to marry Mr. Dawson. Like Felix, when the attraction wanes, she will not be able to sustain her happiness. She’ll be trapped. Is that not what you meant?”
His mother sniffed. “My marriage was arranged, and it ended happily for me. But that does not mean all such marriages are successful. It takes complementary personalities, trust, and friendship. A successful matchmaker looks beneath the surface to the core of a person. However, I do not believe Constance is ready to marry. She must have time to explore herself before she commits to a man.”
“Perhaps I was too impatient,” he said. “She should not have had her debut so soon.”
He had been so focused on securing Constance’s future and fulfilling his promise to his wife that he had not considered she was not ready. Once again, he’d allowed his own desires to cloud his judgment.
His mother snorted. “It’s a miracle. You are finally coming to your senses.”
He slouched on the couch. “I thought I was doing right by her.”
Constance had wanted so desperately to grow up that he had been unable to resist her demands. He should have insisted on a gradual introduction into society. Instead, he had allowed her to dive in without proper education or training. It was no wonder she had floundered.
“I failed her,” he said.
His mother groaned. “You are a troublesome child, Thellusson. You take the weight of the world on your shoulders. I am as much to blame as you. I recognized the signs but did not interfere, even when it became apparent she was corresponding with someone.” Her expression softened. “Love grows in many ways, my son.”
A rap on the door interrupted them.
“Come in,” his mother said.
Constance entered, a frown on her face. Mrs. Quill stood behind her, and it was clear from the older woman’s posture that it was only her presence that was keeping Constance from fleeing.
“Hello, Grandmother,” Constance said. She did not meet Thel’s gaze, nor acknowledge that he was present.
The duchess smiled. “My dear Constance. You wound your father.”
Constance’s frown deepened. “I do not wish to speak to him. He sent Lady Allen away.”
He sank into the couch. In his attempt to save his daughter from heartbreak, he’d turned her against him.
Mrs. Quill pushed Constance forward. The girl staggered into the room, then perched on the edge of a seat across from her grandmother.
“I have discussed the matter of your marriage with your father,” the duchess said. She picked up the teapot and poureda measure into a cup, then passed it to Constance. The girl accepted it gracefully and held it above the saucer. She did not toss it back in one swoop, or dollop it with sugar, or grab a cookie from the tray on the table.
Where had his little girl gone? He did not recognize the woman before him. He was so used to seeing her as a child. She had grown up when he had not been looking.
The duchess drank her tea and then picked up a biscuit and took a bite. Throughout, Constance remained silent.
“Very good,” the duchess said finally. She looked at Thel. “I was remiss in not educating my son in the way of women.”
