Thea’s fingers remained curled around his hand, but Frederick had gone utterly still beneath her touch. Her lips parted, but no words emerged. There was only that aching, impossible silence stretching between them, heavy and fragile as glass.
“Because of this?” she asked, blinking like a newborn babe seeing the sun for the first time. “I understand why you felt obligated to end our courtship because of your… I hate to call them ‘reduced circumstances,’ for I certainly do not think you any lesser for what your father did, but regardless of what others deem it, nothing has changed—”
“Everything has changed.Everything.”
Thea’s breath fled her lungs, and her heart squeezed tight as she forced herself to ask, “You no longer love me?”
Jerking back, Frederick’s expression mirrored her own. “I said nothing of the sort.”
It felt as though someone had cut the twine twisted around her heart, allowing it to fully beat once more. Thank the heavens.
“My circumstances have changed. Fundamentally so,” he clarified. “I cannot marry you—”
“Nonsense,” said Thea, her nose wrinkling. “It will be difficult, to be certain, but if not for your father’s passing, we would be married, and just as I would not abandon you in those circumstances, I will not abandon you now. For richer or poorer and all.”
Frederick huffed. “This isn’t the same, and you know it. Marriage is irrevocable. We are not even engaged.”
“All but.”
“That is an important distinction. There is a world of difference between a couple who wish to exchange vows and those who have. You have nothing binding you to me, and I will not allow you to be thrown into the mess my father created.”
Good gracious, the fool was stubborn. Frederick wasn’t the sort to get in a temper, but even the sunniest of temperaments stormed about at times, and it was clear from the set of his jaw and the hardness in his eyes that he was determined. Yet he had not released her hand, and Thea clung to that reassurance.
If she proceeded with caution, they could settle this situation to everyone’s benefit and end this nonsense. Of course, telling him this was “nonsense” was the precise thing Thea was attempting to avoid—no matter how much that word bounced about her thoughts.
She must keep hold of her tongue.
Though that would be easier if the gentleman weren’t so very good at vexing her.
“I understand this is troubling,” said Thea, holding fast to him. “You and your family have suffered greatly of late, and Iknow that is bound to cloud matters, but I love you, Frederick Voss. I wish to marry you—not your home or your income.”
“But a man cannot marry without either.”
Drawing in a breath, Thea allowed herself a moment to consider her words. “True, but you forget that I am a lady of means.”
Frederick stiffened, jerking his hand free and rising to his feet. “Do not be ridiculous, Thea.”
“Do not be pigheaded, Frederick,” she said, shifting to stand, and before she could move, Frederick’s hand was there, helping her, which was both heartwarming and infuriating at the same time.
Standing before him, Thea faced him down. “You may be stubborn at times and vexing at others, but I know you, Frederick. You are not one of those fools who begrudge financial assistance from his wife.”
“I’ve seen enough fortune hunters of late to know many men do not care one jot about using their wife’s money,” grumbled Frederick. “But it will do no good, Thea. Even with your dowry, we cannot save Dunsby Hall.”
“Then we become tradesmen, and my dowry will set us up until the business is solvent.”
*
We. Such a little word. Two tiny letters. A meaningless thing that people tossed about with hardly a thought, yet that single syllable hit him harder than any declaration of love.
For months now, his world had been nothing but “I” or “you.” It was on Frederick to settle the accounts. To sell the house. To find a way to feed his family. Every burden, every failure, every desperate plan had rested squarely on his shoulders. Yet Theasaid “we” as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Claiming his struggles as her own without hesitation.
And that quiet certainty she exuded cracked open something in him. It was like the first rays of sunlight filtering into a room that had been shut up for far too long, and for the first time in what felt like years, Frederick didn’t feel utterly alone. For one dangerous instant, he let himself imagine them together, facing whatever storms came, side by side instead of apart. It would be hard, yes, but together it would be bearable.
But the vision shattered like glass against stone.
Thea spoke as though entering trade were a simple thing, ignoring the price it would exact upon her and her family. How quickly the people she claimed as friends would turn their backs on her. How slow the others in their new society would accept them. The Vosses would belong to neither class—alone and isolated.
And that dowry she believed would be their saving grace would never materialize. If his previous conversations with Mr. Keats were any indication, the gentleman would not give his blessing (verbal or monetary) if she married against his wishes; Thea may have attained her majority, but that did not mean a child was free to choose, and her father would do everything in his power to see the match ended.
