Chapter 4
Sympathy was a fine quality to possess. Of course, it was.
It softened the hard edges of the world, bridged gaping voids between hearts, and lent comfort when no words could suffice.
It was rarely overabundant, and one ought to do one’s best to nurture such feelings, for it was the gentle balm in sorrow, the quiet rejoicing in gladness, and the unseen thread that bound lives together in shared understanding.
But when paired with a fretful nature, sympathy tended to add to one’s burdens.
To carry one’s own fears was difficult enough; to take on another’s as well stretched the heart past endurance.
Sympathy, so gentle in itself, became a channel through which every tremor of unease flowed unchecked from one to the other, compounding that gentle heart’s tribulations.
And when one fretful and sympathetic soul was brought into the orbit of another fretful, sympathetic soul?
The issue grew tenfold, for as one grew agitated, the other sensed the unease, which caused their own to grow in turn—only for the originator to feel that shift and amplify their own worries, which the other soul then sensed and echoed back.
A fact that was on clear display as Thea walked alongside her cousin through the streets of Haverford, for if there ever was a soul more sympathetic and fretful than her, it was Mina Ashbrook.
And with Thea desperate for her cousin to have a lovely visit, Mina’s fretful nature came to the forefront, which only added to Thea’s concerns in turn.
The pair were like pitch and fire. Left to her own devices, Thea could master her nerves with a steady breath and a determined smile, yet beside Mina (who was every bit as quick to feel another’s disquiet as her own), her composure faltered.
For all that it felt as though they were the oldest and dearest of friends, their last visit was some three years prior, and correspondence was a vast deal different than speaking face-to-face; Thea didn’t know her cousin’s expressions well enough to fully discern the sentiments beneath them.
And matters weren’t helped when they ventured into the chaos that was the Spring Market.
Haverford was in fine form. The market square bustled with the energy of spring.
Stalls stood in tidy rows, their awnings bright against the pale spring sky, while the air was thick with the mingled scents of fresh-turned earth, baking pies, and the tang of newly shorn wool.
Farmers called out the merits of early lambs, their voices competing with the cries of hawkers selling ribbons, food, and polished brass trinkets that winked in the sunlight, whilst servants and laborers eagerly sought out positions for the coming season.
Neighbors gathered in cheerful knots, exchanging gossip as easily as the coins passing from customers to vendors, as children darted through the throng, weaving between skirts and boots as mothers tried in vain to keep them near.
A fiddler claimed a corner by the green, and his lively tune threaded through the square, drawing a crowd whose feet tapped along to the beat with middling success.
Sprigs of hawthorn and bundles of primroses decorated several stalls, a reminder that winter’s grasp had at last loosened, and the burgeoning warmth of spring heated the cobblestones, coaxing the crowd to linger longer than needful, for it was not merely trade that drew them but the simple pleasure of standing together beneath the gentle sunshine.
It was the busiest day of the season for Haverford, yet as Thea looked out upon the market square, she couldn’t help thinking that it must seem so provincial to a young lady who attended the London Season and mingled amongst the highest levels of society.
Haverford was naught but a speck in the country compared to Mina’s home.
“This is delightful. I am so happy to be here,” said Mina, forcing the words out in a breath. And though there was a tight edge to her tone, Thea felt the earnestness beneath the nerves.
Brows rising, Thea forced herself not to bite her lip as she studied her cousin. “I am happy you are here, though I am sorry you are missing the Season.”
Mina wrinkled her nose and grimaced. “I am not. Thank the heavens that Aunt Matilda is too busy with Beatrice’s wedding to play chaperone for me in London, else I would never have convinced Papa to allow me a visit. And I am desperate to meet your Mr. Voss.”
Though a flush of pink stole across Thea’s cheeks, she couldn’t correct the pronoun her cousin attached to the gentleman. And with that, she wove her arm through Mina’s.
“He is occupied with the sale of the spring lambs,” said Thea, glancing this way and that for Dunsby Hall’s stalls.
“I am certain it will go well for him,” said Mina, glancing at her.
And Thea tried to hold fast to her smile as she nodded. “I know I am fretting for nothing. They have grains aplenty to sell, and the Vosses’ wool is the best in the village.”
Pulling her to a stop, Mina’s brows furrowed. “He still hasn’t said what is bothering him?”
Waving it aside, Thea pointed them toward a stall selling toffee. “He is struggling with his father’s passing. That is all.”
“So you wrote, but I refuse to believe it—no matter how often you repeat it,” she said with a frown.
“Trust your instincts, Thea. You’ve known him your whole life, and if you feel there is something more to his behavior of late, then there likely is.
But I am certain you will sort it out: you and your Mr. Voss are perfect together. ”
Thea raised a brow. “You haven’t even met him yet.”
But Mina was the one to wave it aside this time.
“You’ve written a novel’s worth of letters about him, and everything you’ve shared is a ringing endorsement not only of him but of you as a pair.
Unless you are an entirely poor judge of character—which I cannot believe—I am certain he is a good man. ”
Gazing out upon the bustling crowds, she added, “The market will go splendidly for him, and all will be well once more. He will complete his mourning, propose, and you two will have a long and perfect life together.”
“Perfect is a tall order,” said Thea.
“Beautiful, then.”
A smile curved the corner of her lips as she considered that. “A beautiful life together.”
Mina nodded before drawing them nearer to a food stall. “Is that toffee?”
“The best you will ever taste,” said Thea.
“I’ve never met a toffee I do not love.”
And without further ado, the pair purchased far more sweets than was good for them, and they indulged in the buttery, sugary delights as they wove deeper into the stalls, stopping here and there at various enticements.
Thea’s eyes continued to scour for signs of Frederick, though with this being the most important market of the season, so many people had descended upon the village that it was hard to find anyone in particular.
“I do hope Phoebe will attend,” said Thea, her eyes searching for that familiar face as well. “I am desperate for you two to meet.”
And for all that the words were true, another burst of nerves shot through her as she considered the pair.
She adored Phoebe, and she adored Mina. Beyond Frederick, they were the two most important people in her life, so they were bound to adore each other as well.
Of course, they would. There was no reason to borrow trouble and believe otherwise.
There was enough trouble brewing in her heart without adding to it.
“I see it!” Mina rose to her toes and pointed toward a stall whose banner proudly proclaimed that it belonged to Dunsby Hall.
“Brilliant,” said Thea, squeezing her friend’s arm as the pair fought their way through the crowd.
And sure enough, Frederick stood nearby, his bright eyes studying the bags of grain as buyers bartered with his staff.
Thea called out to him, but his head whipped about in the other direction, turning toward the fields where the livestock pens stood, and with quick steps, the ladies hurried after him as he moved to that portion of the market.
“Mr. Voss!” called Thea, her feet moving quicker as she dragged Mina alongside her.
Straightening, Frederick turned and scoured the crowd, his eyes taking a moment before they fell upon her.
And in that instant, the tautness in his features melted away.
His mouth broke into that wide, boyish grin she knew so well, the kind that lit his countenance as though the sun itself shone through him.
Thea’s heart lifted at the sight, warmth blooming in her chest until it stole her breath.
Whatever weight he carried, whatever troubles he sought to hide, in that instant there was nothing but the clear, unguarded joy that her presence gave him.
She tightened her hold on Mina’s arm, scarcely aware of how quickly her feet moved as they carried her closer, her own smile growing exponentially in answer to his.
For all that she was familiar with using his proper name in mixed company, Thea found it difficult not to use his given name and kiss his cheek, but she contented herself with gazing at him with all those thoughts buzzing about her mind like bees in a field of wildflowers.
And his own eyes glowed with similar sentiments, warming her even more.
“Mr. Voss,” she managed. “How good to see you.”
“And it is good to be seen,” said Frederick, adopting a somber expression filled with false pomposity whilst his gaze blazed with laughter.
“It is a fine day, is it not? And who is this exquisite creature at your side?” Turning to Mina, the gentleman took her hand in his and bowed low over it.
“Are you the Miss Mina Ashbrook I’ve heard so much about? ”
For all that his manners were overdone, there wasn’t a hint of mockery in them, yet the lady’s round cheeks turned a vibrant shade of red as she stammered a greeting in return.
Frederick Voss may be a merciless tease, but the sight had him straightening, and the jester vanished from his expression as he met Mina’s gaze with all the earnest kindness he possessed.
“I am honored to meet you, Miss Ashbrook,” said Frederick. “I feel as though I owe you a great debt, my good lady. Miss Keats here has regaled me at length about how highly she regards you and how good a friend you’ve been to her over the years.”
“I hardly think a few letters warrant such effusive praise,” stammered Mina.
“Not true,” said Thea. “You’ve been a dear friend to me.”
“Not as good a friend as you’ve been to me,” she said in a voice so quiet that Thea wasn’t certain she had heard it correctly. And though Mina had never said so directly, she suspected the lady had few friends, but that alone did not put one in the other’s debt.
Choosing to ignore what she may or may not have heard, Thea held fast to Mina as Frederick worked his magic.
A few teasing remarks here, a compliment there, and the lady’s smile grew more genuine as he eased her into conversation, which made Thea’s own expression brighten in turn until she was ready to burst from the joy of the moment.
With a glance about, Thea released her hold on Mina’s arm and leaned in close to buss Frederick’s cheek, which drew up his brows as she whispered into his ear, “Thank you.”
His expression made it clear he didn’t understand what she was thanking him for, but it mattered not.
Whether his kindness was intentional or simply a byproduct of the kind man he was, Frederick’s heart was one of the many reasons Thea loved him.
And when they found a moment alone, she would make certain he understood precisely how much his gentle handling of Mina meant to her.
“Have you explored the stalls?” asked Frederick, nodding toward the little stands with their brightly-colored bunting waving in the breeze.
“Only a little,” said Thea. “We were looking for you. I know how worried you’ve been of late about the Spring Market.”
“Worried? Me?” he replied with a laugh. “My family has been selling goods here for generations, and it varies little from year to year. Most masters do not bother overseeing the Spring Market, but I cannot help myself.”
Cocking her head to the side, she studied his expression, easily seeing those little signs of strain around his eyes and the corners of his mouth; they were like their own bunting, drawing the eye of anyone who knew to look for them.
And though Mina looked appeased by his explanation, Thea couldn’t ignore them.
No matter what excuses and dismissals he offered, Frederick was deeply concerned about the market.