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.

An idea wormed its way into Olivia’s head. Society knew they had gone missing, but they didn’t know why. If they provided an even more salacious story, it might put them off the scent. Especially if it was at their own expense.

“There will still be a marriage today,” Olivia said.

Constance screwed up her face.

Mr. Ringwell straightened his jacket. “I’m ready.”

She smiled, letting some of Lady Allen enter her voice. “Oh, no. It is not you and Constance who will marry.”

“Who, then?” Thel asked.

She raised her hand, and he took it, stepping closer until there was barely enough room between them for a book to fit. “I know this isn’t what you intended when you asked me to marry you, but I’m willing to marry you now if it saves Constance.”

Thel grimaced. “I have no ring, nor flowers. My parents and brothers are not here to witness our union. You aren’t even wearing a wedding dress.”

Olivia shook her head. “I’ve been through all of that before.” Her wedding had been straight out of a fairy tale, everything her youthful self had desired. “If it helps Constance, then I can do without any of it.”

Thel looked at Mr. Ringwell. “Do you still have the item you intended to use to propose?”

Mr. Ringwell patted his pockets, then handed over a slightly crushed circle of grass.

Constance gasped. “Is that what I think it is?” She put her hands over her mouth. “Oh, Sammy, you really do love me like that?”

Mr. Ringwell scratched the back of his neck. “It’s nothing fancy, Connie. You deserve much better.”

As Mr. Ringwell wrapped his arms around Constance, Olivia slid the ring on her finger and tucked it into place, then admired it. It was not the ornate gold band that the earl had presented her with. It was far more beautiful. Her imagination transformed the strands into braided silver.

He frowned. “I will buy you something more appropriate.”

She plucked her hand back. “Perhaps later, but this will suffice for today. It is lovely, is it not?”

He smiled. “Yes, it is.” Then his smile fell. “I suppose I should write to my family.”

Olivia cringed. The thought of summoning them so far into the countryside when the season was not yet over made her feel like she was impinging upon their freedom and happiness. But Thel was right. It would lend additional weight to their story if they were all seen leaving town.

“I suppose we’ll need to head to Gretna Green, after all,” Olivia said.

“No need,” Thel said. He removed a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Olivia. “I applied for a special license weeks ago, before I asked you to marry me the first time.”

She ran her fingers over the parchment. “You’ve held on to it all this time?”

He grinned. “Perhaps a part of me could not admit that what I did was wrong.” Then he took her hands and his smile fell. “You are certain?”

Olivia squeezed his fingers. “I am.”

###

Later that day, after a carriage ride through the country and a brief stop at the nearest church, they arrived at Thel’s childhood home. Constance had not said a word throughout the trip. Mr. Ringwell clutched her hand.

She could not blame him. If they were alone, she would have crawled into Thel’s lap and rested against his chest. She feared their plan would not work, but worse than that, she feared Constance would not recover from what she had been through. The shadows on her face were a painful reminder of Olivia’s own trauma.

“We’re here,” Thel said.

She peered out the window as they passed through wrought-iron gates and started up the long path toward the house. A wide expanse of manicured gardens surrounded them on either side. A fountain stood outside the front entrance, depicting a willowy woman with flowing hair covering her like clothing.

“Home,” Constance said, in a breathy voice. It was the first time she had spoken since they had entered the carriage, and Olivia was pleased to see some of the fear and worry erased from her face.

She did not relish the thought of how much work was ahead of her. She would have to rally the staff, prepare all the rooms for Thel’s family, while adjusting to her new position.

Thel reached across the carriage and squeezed her knee. “We will do this.”

That was the only part of the plan that she did not doubt in the slightest. She could not regret marrying him. She looked forward to presenting herself as not the Countess Dowager Allen, but as the Marchioness of Lowell, and one day, the Duchess of Hestia.

She would be a duchess.

Goodness.

She wished she could be an invisible observer in the room when Mrs. Zephyr and the other ladies who had spurned her learned of her marriage. Just imagining Mrs. Zephyr paling and sputtering was enough to make Olivia smile.

The carriage stopped. Thel opened the door, helped everyone inside exit, and then instructed the driver to park. Before they could enter the house, however, the doors flew open, and a woman dressed in a pale-blue day dress raced toward them.

“Celina!” Thel said. “What are you doing here?” There was no anger in his voice, only surprise, for which Olivia was grateful. She did not want to cause any further conflict.

Celina captured Constance in a hug. “Oh, I was hoping you would come here. It’s not too late, is it? Please tell me you have not married him.” She pulled back and looked around. “Where is Dawson?”

Mr. Ringwell grasped Constance’s shoulder and gave the girl a look that was full of love. “That is a long story.”

Constance’s cheeks grew rosy. She touched Mr. Ringwell’s hand with her fingers and dropped her gaze to the ground.

Olivia stepped closer to Celina, hardly recognizing her from the mean-spirited viper who had accused her of murder. What had changed since she had left Celina in that bedroom? Apparently, whatever it had been, it had been for the best. Then the meaning of Celina’s words struck her. She’d known they’d been coming.

“Olivia, it is such a pleasure to see you again,” Celina said as she took Olivia’s hands. “I apologize for presuming, but when I learned what Mr. Dawson had done, I knew I had to try to stop him.”

“How’d you know to come here? Did Lord Felix come with you?” Olivia asked. She was bursting with questions, but those were the most important.

“Oh, certainly not,” Celina said. “After I told him of the affair, my husband ran off somewhere. Probably to drink himself senseless.” She waved a hand in the air. “The man is terribly predictable. He’ll sulk for a few weeks before crawling back to beg forgiveness. As to how I knew to come here, Constance told me.”

Constance slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “Oh, I forgot,” she said, the words muffled by her hand.

“Constance,” Thel said, in a tired voice. “What have you done?”

“I told Celina that we would honeymoon here. Me and Dawson.” She flushed. “There is a lot we have to tell you, Aunt.”

Celina drew herself upright. “I see. Come, I have arranged for afternoon tea. All of you look quite famished.”