“Thank you for allowing me.”
Drawing in a breath, Phoebe straightened and brushed at her cheeks. Then, glancing past Thea, she added, “Where is Mina? I wanted to apologize to her as well.”
“She is at home. This isourtime together.” Turning her about, Thea nudged Phoebe into the chair and faced her toward the mirror before setting to work.
“Since when have you become a master at dressing hair?” asked Phoebe, a little life returning to her voice.
“I have been learning to manage my own toilette of late, and I find that I rather enjoy it,” she replied as she gathered the pins from the table, their cool weight resting lightly in her palm.
With silent movements, Thea braided and twisted as the air between them thickened, filled with all the words they could not speak. Outside, a skylark trilled in the bright morning, its song faint despite the open window, but the joyful noise could not pierce the heaviness that blanketed the room as Phoebe’s eyes grew unfocused, no longer seeing the reflection before her.
“I am going to make you the most beautiful bride Haverford has ever seen,” said Thea, drawing her friend’s attention once more.
Phoebe’s eyes lifted to meet hers in the mirror, and for a heartbeat they glimmered as her lips pulled into a tremulous smile. Then it crumbled away. A sound escaped her—half gasp, half sob—and she covered her mouth as if to hold it in.
With the ribbon clutched in her fingers, Thea stared at her friend as Phoebe collapsed beneath the tears that spilled forth. The lady shook her head and tried to speak, but sobs made it impossible. Her shoulders trembled, the rigid line of her spine bending until she was folded over the table, hands pressed to her face as though she might hide. The sound was raw and startling in its force, breaking against the stillness of the room like a storm tearing through calm water.
Thea’s chest constricted until she could scarcely draw breath. Every sound dug into her skin, burrowing through her strength until she felt as weak as a newborn kitten. Mind racing, she scoured for some idea, some word, some comfort to offer.Something to set this to rights once more. Something to alleviate the pain tearing through her friend. No matter how futile or silly a thought, Thea hoped and prayed to save her friend from this torment.
But there was nothing to be done. No word or act could make right what had been lost. All she could do was stand there with a ribbon hanging limp in her hand and bear witness as Phoebe’s world came undone, her grief echoing against the walls until Thea thought she might drown in the sound.
Dropping the ribbon on the table, Thea wrapped Phoebe in her arms. It was a silly, useless gesture, but it was all she had to offer, and Phoebe’s arms locked around her tightly, clinging to her as if her very life depended upon it. Despite being half-crouched and awkwardly positioned, Thea held fast, refusing to move as Phoebe’s body shook, the sound of her tears sharp in her ear.
Thea said nothing, offered no hollow comforts. Words would only cheapen the grief, and there were none large enough to bind up these wounds. So she remained quiet and let her arms do that which words could not.
In time, Phoebe’s tears slowed, and only when her hold loosened did Thea withdraw, though she kept a hand wrapped around her friend’s, which she used to guide Phoebe to the bed where they could sit together.
“I apologize—I—” began Phoebe, though her words were broken and jagged.
“Absolutely not. Do not apologize.”
Phoebe huffed, her lip trembling even as she scowled at herself. “I am being silly.” Her breath shuddered, but she continued, “I know—I know—this is the best course. And there is no use in bemoaning what cannot be.”
Drawing in a sharp breath, Phoebe clung to Thea’s hands as she stared at their entwined fingers. “I know I do not seem likea romantic, but just because I haven’t been in a rush to find love doesn’t mean I didn’t want it. I always…” Her voice faltered, and she swallowed. “I always thought that one day I would find it.”
Phoebe grimaced, her head dropping with a sigh. “Despite accepting Mr. Godwin’s offer, I spent the past weeks praying with all my soul that somehow this day would not come—that a miracle would save me from this—and it is so difficult to accept that my dreams are at an end. I will spend my life with a husband who is an obsequious bore, who only accepted me to further his professional ambitions. My hopes are dead and gone.”
Thea’s heart twisted, and that desperate instinct surged to the surface once more, pulling with it the trite words that sprang forth when there was nothing else to say. “You do not know what will happen. You hardly know him. Perhaps with time—”
“No,” said Phoebe, punctuating that with a sharp shake of her head. “We are not treading that path, Althea Keats. Hope has been my torment these past months, and it is time to embrace the world as it is. Better to mourn the life that was and accept what I have been given.”
Her voice broke, and another shuddering breath held her captive as she freed the well-used handkerchief tucked into her cuff. Dabbing at her face, Phoebe fought through her hiccuping breaths, and Thea forced away the voices prodding her to act, choosing instead to join in with her friend as they mourned those lost dreams.
Chapter 34
Clearing her throat, Phoebe straightened, and a few cleansing breaths helped her regain a passable smile. “This is my decision. Mine. It may be terrible, but it is the best of the terrible possibilities before me. I will have a home. A family. Purpose. Safety and security. And all it will cost me is a bit of patience for the man I am to call my husband. Surely I can manage that.”
Phoebe folded the handkerchief (though it required a thorough washing), and Thea held her tongue, for what was there to say? Patience wasn’t one of Phoebe’s virtues, and it felt as though a great deal more than that would be required to spend the rest of one’s life with such a man.
“But you,” continued Phoebe, turning her watery eyes to her friend. “You still have a choice, Thea. Please do not listen to what I said before. I was angry and frightened and desperate to make sense of things. It was easier to believe that hope is foolish than to admit how much I envy you for still having it.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, Phoebe’s glistening eyes met Thea’s. “Do not let my bitterness make a coward of you. Frederick has lost everything because of our father, and he deserves to have something good in his life. You both do.”
Phoebe managed a small, trembling smile. “So please, Thea—do not surrender just because I must.”
A knock at the door had Phoebe brushing at her cheeks, though there was nothing to do about the blotches on her face, her red eyes, or the dark circles that hung beneath them. But the action seemed to wipe away the last of her weakness, and when she rose to her feet in greeting, Thea saw her resolve snap back into place.
“It’s time…” said Frederick, peeking through the door, though his voice faltered when his eyes fell to Thea. But he didn’t pause as he stepped in, crossing to his sister as he took in the signs of distress. Taking hold of his hand, Phoebe forced a smile that was full of all the might and conviction of her stalwart heart.
