Page 63 of Mentor to the Marquess
Lord Bellows sputtered but made no further effort to rise.
Olivia squeezed Constance’s hand and then drew her out of the hedge maze. They did not need to give the man a chance to change his mind.
“I owe you a debt,” Olivia said when they were far enough away from Lord Bellows that she did not worry he would overhear.
Constance plucked the bloom of a carnation, tucked it behind her ear, then did a deep curtsey before Olivia. “I am your most humble servant.”
Olivia fell into the game as smoothly as if they had just danced in Constance’s room that morning. She picked up a broken stick from the ground and brandished it. “Nonsense. You are my loyal retainer. My bodyguard. Lord Bellows did not stand a chance.”
Constance picked up another stick and held it out in a fighting stance. “I believe you need a lesson, lest this incident occur again.”
She lunged, and Olivia met the strike, laughter bubbling up in her throat. She slashed and cracked her branch against Constance’s in a flurry of blows, falling deeper into the role with each step. This was what she’d missed. This freedom of allowing herself to be and do whatever she wanted. She mock-stabbed Constance in the chest, and the girl let out a dramatic moan.
“You are the one who requires further lessons,” she said. Then she tossed the stick, dropping their game in a heartbeat. “Where’s Th—your father? I find it hard to believe he let you out of his sight.”
Constance bowed her head. “He didn’t come. He spends most of his time in his office. I think he misses you.”
Olivia sat beside her. “Lord Lowell is no longer my concern. He dismissed me.”
“You forgot about him so quickly?”
“Nothing could be further from the truth.” She peered up at Constance. “What about Mr. Dawson? Do you still want to marry him?”
Constance pursed her lips. “I love him.”
“Are you still giving him money?”
“It’s only until his inheritance comes in.”
Olivia put a hand on Constance’s shoulder. “How can you be sure thereisan inheritance?”
Tears dripped down Constance’s cheeks. “I don’t know.”
Olivia handed her a handkerchief.
Constance dabbed at her cheeks. “I wish you could see what I see in him. Your blessing means so much to me. You are the closest thing to a mother I have.”
The pressure inside Olivia’s chest grew until she felt as if she were going to burst. She had meddled in Constance’s life from the moment the girl had been introduced to her. She had allowed her own past to cloud her perception of Mr. Dawson. The man had shown signs of cruelty, but that might have been as much her fault, as she had done nothing but antagonize him. She had placed him in the same box as the earl and had resisted any attempts Constance made to show her any other truth.
“I would have been blessed to have a daughter as lovely as you,” she said.
Constance gave a hiccupping laugh before handing the handkerchief back. “It’s not too late.”
Olivia caught the lilt in her voice. The girl was teasing her or playing matchmaker herself. She elbowed her in the ribs. “You are a clever little hellion. What’s your scheme? Did you summon your father here to force us into a confrontation?”
Her shoulders drooped. “I tried.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. This was certainly another of Constance’s manipulations. The girl was determined when there was something she wanted. On the other hand, if she did not intervene, she might find herself caught in a situation with Thel that she did not expect. There was only one way to give Constance the closure she needed and prevent any awkward incidents.
She dreaded speaking to Thel, but perhaps it was for the best. Her duty as matchmaker was over, but if he was willing to apologize, it was still possible that they could have some manner of future together.
“If it would appease you, I will visit the house and speak with your father.”
Constance gasped. “Really?”
Olivia tapped the girl on the nose. “Only if you promise to give up any further scheming. You can become a matchmaker when you are older, if you so desire, but you are presently too young to be meddling with the emotions of your elders.”
“I’ll stop,” Constance said. Then she glanced over Olivia’s shoulder.
