Chapter 7
“Oh…” Phoebe’s eyes widened the slightest bit, but she covered it with an easy smile.
“I assure you the honor would be all mine, but no doubt a gentleman so richly blessed, such as yourself, is a master of the dance floor. I am certain to look a fool next to you, and I would hate to ruin your sterling reputation, sir.”
“You needn’t fear on that score, madam,” said Mr. Godwin, shaking his head with a startled expression. “I am a mediocre dancer at best. You will outshine me in every aspect.”
“The lady already agreed to stand up with me,” said Mr. Winwood, though the ladies all knew that was a lie of the greatest order, though the flash of relief in Phoebe’s eyes made it clear that she was willing to overlook it.
“It is true, Mr. Godwin,” said Phoebe, shaking her head with mock solemnity. “I fear it is Mr. Winwood’s destiny to be outshone by me.”
Mr. Winwood gave a strangled chuckle, covering it with a cough of his own. “I assure you that I am quite the dancer. I offered to stand up with you so as to provide a good example of what dancing ought to look like. For your future reference, of course.”
“You are skilled at the lady’s part?” asked Phoebe, her eyes wide with innocence as her lips pulled into a teasing grin.
But then the gentleman turned his eyes on her, and though nothing shifted in his expression, there was a warmth that everyone could see; even Thea’s cheeks felt a little flushed at the sight, though Phoebe met it with a lifted chin, as though refusing to be undone.
Forcing her eyes from Mr. Winwood, Phoebe turned to Mr. Godwin. “I do apologize, though I am certain Miss Ashbrook would enjoy standing up with you. She was telling us earlier that she loves to dance.”
“Yes, of course,” said Mr. Godwin, giving no sign of disappointment as he turned to Mina. “Would you do me the honor? I do love a country dance. It is absolutely delightful.”
Mina couldn’t seem to speak, choosing instead to give him a quick nod.
Mr. Godwin bowed, and with a word of promise to return at the appointed time, he slipped away to speak to his aunt about some issue or another; though he went to great lengths to apologize for the delay and explain the reason, Thea struggled to keep her attention on him long enough to grasp his excuses.
“My deepest thanks, Mr. Winwood,” said Phoebe, pressing a hand to her heart. “You saved me from a fate worse than death.”
Brows furrowing, Mina glanced at the lady, though she said nothing.
“I think you are being a tad hard,” said Thea, speaking the words she knew her cousin was likely thinking.
“Not at all,” said Phoebe with a scoff. “I am pleased you wish to stand up with him, Miss Ashbrook, but I have spoken to him a few times now, and he is a fool of the highest order. I’ve never met such an obsequious creature.”
“Come now, Miss Voss,” said Mr. Winwood with a deceptively serious expression. “Would you besmirch such a blessed man? Fortune has smiled upon him, and we ought to be in awe of his virtue and mighty position. He has deigned to grant such a lowly exhibition his company, after all.”
Phoebe laughed, though she stifled it when Thea frowned.
Leveling an apologetic look at Mina, Phoebe said, “I do apologize. If you enjoy his company, I am glad of it—”
“Glad that you needn’t suffer through it,” muttered Mr. Winwood with an impish grin. Phoebe poked his arm and turned her attention back to the others.
“I mean it most earnestly, Miss Ashbrook. I do. He is not a wicked man. He is simply insufferable. But if you do not find him so, then I wish you much happiness.”
“You needn’t laugh at him,” said Mina, her spine straightening.
Phoebe’s brows rose at that. “Perhaps I was a tad harsh, but I’ve never met a more puffed-up fool in my life.
He speaks as though his patron is the Almighty and his uncle is the Archbishop, forever slathering them with flattery as though his very life depends upon it.
The gentleman invites such mockery when he is forever spouting nonsense. ”
“Come now, Miss Voss,” said Mr. Winwood, offering his hand and gracing her with a smirk of a smile. “Might you walk with me a touch before we astonish all of Haverford with our superior dancing?”
“Do you think the villagers can bear to witness such a display?” asked Phoebe in a dry tone as she placed her hand in his. “The women might swoon at the very sight.”
“I think we ought to risk it, madam. It isn’t fair for us to deny them such a great blessing.”
“Too right, my good sir,” she said with a nod of the head, and the pair wandered off into the crowd, twitting one another all along the way.
Mina’s hand remained threaded through Thea’s arm, and she reached up to pat it.
“You mustn’t mind Phoebe. Her humor can be biting at times, but she is the truest friend you can wish for,” said Thea, though her cousin’s expression didn’t soften.
“She told me while you were examining the linen stall that she thought you were very sweet. I am certain you two will soon be dear friends in a trice.”
But that did nothing to ease the furrow of Mina’s brow, and then Mr. Godwin appeared, leading her away before Thea could lay the first stones that would bridge the gulf between the two ladies.
Yes, Phoebe was a tad blunt, and Mina a tad sensitive, but Thea was equally so, and she adored the lady; Phoebe had a way of lightening the strain of the day with her quick wit, and with time, Mina would see it as well.
Shaking that thought away, Thea wandered the crowd, and soon, her feet found their way to Frederick (as they tended to do when left to their own devices).
Perhaps she ought to feel embarrassed that amongst the myriad of sellers, entertainments, and sights to see, her attention fastened upon him as though there was naught but the two of them in the market square, but to her heart, Frederick was a beacon, standing out even in a sea of people.
Of course, it wasn’t precisely difficult to locate him as he remained near the section of the market devoted to the sale of livestock and grains.
The other masters had long since given their obligatory appearance, choosing to spend their time chasing entertainments (and more likely, having returned home, grateful that their part in the festivities was complete until the next major market day), but Frederick remained.
Arms folded tight across his chest, he watched as sacks of grain were weighed and the steward haggled over prices for the wool—both what would come after the sheep were sheared in summer and the remnant bales unsold from the previous autumn—though even to Thea’s uneducated eyes, there still seemed to be too many lying about.
Frederick didn’t notice her arrival, leaving Thea free to study the lines of his face as he watched the steward’s dealings.
To anyone else, he appeared fixated upon the business at hand, but she had watched him too closely and too often to miss the strain beneath his composure.
His jaw was set too firmly, his stillness too deliberate.
The expression he wore was meant to reassure, yet it rang hollow.
Thea’s hands yearned to slip her arms around him and lift that burden alongside him, but she contented herself with allowing her fingers to brush the hand that peeked out from his folded arms. Frederick’s attention never wavered from what was happening before him, but he shifted so his hand could take hold of hers, his fingers wrapping around hers with a speed and strength that surprised her.
Then his face turned to hers, his eyes meeting her directly.
There was no change in his expression. Frederick simply watched her with the same scrutiny that he’d given the business unfolding before them.
It saw straight into her in a manner that made Thea feel both exposed and seen.
If anyone else were to give her that look, she would take her leave with all haste, but with Frederick, it felt like an embrace.
It was home.
Yet even as that feeling swelled in her heart, threatening to bring tears to her eyes (like the silly goose she was), Thea felt a barrier standing between them. She couldn’t give it a name or identify its source, but it was there nonetheless.
“What is the matter, my love?” she whispered.
His grip slackened at once, their joined hands falling apart as though her question had burned him.
Some emotion flickered across his face—too swift to name—before his features rearranged themselves into that easy, careless smile he wore so often among others.
It was the expression he summoned to charm and to soothe.
The one that told everyone what they wished to hear without offering a scrap of truth beneath it.
Thea knew it well. Too well.
She managed a small answering smile, but inside her heart curled tight, aching at how completely he could shut her away even as she stood beside him.
*
Every part of Frederick longed to answer her—to let the words tumble out and tell her the whole of it as he always had before.
To keep silent around his family was nothing; they never asked and never wished to hear the truth.
His friends were good chaps, but they’d laugh it off.
But Thea asked. Listened. She knew little about managing an estate, but her intelligence and clear-sightedness gave her an understanding that never failed to aid and uplift.
Thea was his confidant. His anchor. Remaining silent was like a sharp, gnawing ache that pressed against his ribs, demanding release.
And worst of all, he felt Thea’s hurt at his withdrawal. It was plain in the quiet tremor of her hand before he let it go, in the shadow that touched her eyes even as she tried to smile. And even without those little signs, Frederick knew her well enough to know how deeply his silence cut.
Yet his easy smile remained fixed on his face.
What choice did he have? Things might yet be set to rights; ruin was not inevitable.
To tell her would only invite strain into her life and increase the chance that rumors might spread.
Not that Frederick thought Thea would tell all and sundry of his troubles, but secrets risked exposure each time they stepped into the light of day.
And it was bad enough that tradesmen and creditors were beginning to grumble and her father suspected some trouble, but that was still containable. Solvable. But only if Frederick resolved the situation before the whole of society knew it.
To say nothing of the fact that Thea wouldn’t content herself with simply hearing the facts.
No, she required an unearthing of all the things Frederick did not wish to discuss, digging endlessly into how he felt about the circumstances, although it bore no relevance to the situation: speaking of troubles never did a thing to mend or resolve.
So Frederick forced the smile, forced the silence, and held himself apart. Better she think him distant than share in the danger that loomed unseen. He would bear the ache. He would bear the hurt in Thea’s eyes. He would bear it all. Sharing the whole of the truth would only increase their pain.
Without a word, Frederick reached for her again, his fingers finding hers with a steadiness that belied the storm within.
Thea did not question it. She leaned into his side, her shoulder resting against him, as though his touch were enough to ease every doubt.
In silence, they stood together, and for that brief moment, the ache in his chest loosened, replaced by something far stronger than fear: the quiet solace of knowing she was his, and he hers.