“I am protecting you from your stubbornness. As you refuse to see sense and abandon this foolish course of self-destruction, I must do what I can to free you from temptation.” Papa’s tone remained even, betraying no emotion as he spoke of travel arrangements and the details established with Mina’s father.
Mama’s chin lifted higher with each word, her posture swelling with silent triumph as the gentleman expounded on filial duty and “putting childish notions aside,” but the words flowed past Thea, unable to touch her mind as she realized the time had arrived. She felt it with a strange, dizzying clarity.
Her toes hung over the edge of this precipice—the dizzying drop lay before her, and the safe, comfortable path lay behind. Yet Thea felt oddly calm, even as she stared into the gaping void below. For months, this deadline had left her in a dither, stealing away her sleep and plaguing her throughout the day, and all the while, the answer had taken shape, piece by piece.
The lessons with Mrs. Brinn had given Thea a glimpse into that world, granting her clarity and context. Visiting with the likes of Mr. Downey had allowed her to see the other possibilities. And now, the letter clutched in her hand whispered of truth, and Thea looked down at the bit of paper and ink as her pulse slowed. Choosing safety had not spared Phoebe.
Was the contentment that came from security and familial unity worth sacrificing Frederick? Was any level of comfort worth the loss of the children they would have? The life they would build? Could any joy equal those blessings?
Once Papa finished speaking, Mama took the lecture up in turn, reiterating everything he’d said, whilst the gentleman returned to his favorite armchair and dove back into the newspaper as though everything were decided.
“Do you think Frederick is the only gentleman to whom I have spoken?” asked Thea, interrupting Mama’s diatribe.
The lady straightened. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Since I was old enough to be in the company of men, I have met a good many,” said Thea, her own chin lifting as she felt her way through her thoughts and feelings. “I’ve had countless conversations, dances, and outings with them. In the past weeks, you’ve thrown me in the path of every unmarried man in Haverford, and I have willingly accepted their attentions so that I might explore all possibilities.”
“You’ve been stubborn and willful,” said Mama with a huff. “Hardly giving them an opportunity—”
“I gave them proper consideration,” said Thea, the feel of the paper in her hand helping to ground her as she stepped into the void. “And not a single one of them will make me as good a husband as Mr. Frederick Voss.”
Papa leveled a dark look at her from over his newspaper. “Regardless, you cannot have him.”
“Then I shan’t marry at all,” said Thea. “The past weeks have seen me heartbroken, hurting, and miserable in so many ways, but it is a fraction of what Phoebe is feeling.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Mama with another huff. “She chose the best she could, but your beauty, social standing, and dowry will provide you a better match than Mr. Godwin—”
But her words stopped short when Papa held up a staying hand. “I do not care for your tone, Thea. This is not a discussion, and you will not go against our wishes.”
“I am a grown woman—” began Thea.
“I am your father,” said Papa, his voice rising as he stood, casting aside the newspaper. “I am the master here, and you will do as I bid. I will not allow you to ruin your future for Frederick Voss.”
The show of temper held Thea’s tongue in check as she stared at him for a long moment, and when she found her voice again, it was a whisper.
“I am not saying this because I am being stubborn or emotional. I have spent weeks—months, really—contemplating my future, and no matter how difficult it may be, I know any path will be infinitely harder without him by my side. Frederick is my closest friend and strongest ally. He brings light to my life as no one else can. I will have him and no one else.”
The stillness that followed her words crept through the room like frosty fingers on a window pane, its icy touch inching across the glass. Papa watched her, the sharp lines of his face frozen in place, and when he finally spoke, his voice was as low and chilly as a winter’s breeze.
“You think me cruel, but I have lived long enough to see what comes of sentimental choices made in haste, and I cannot stand idly by and watch you throw your life away. You have no notion of what hardship truly means. You do not know how it grinds a person down, Thea. It will dull everything bright in you and leave you empty.”
The words were quiet, devoid of any temper or bluster, but the strength of his conviction wove through it, and the muscles in his jaw tensed as he drew in a slow, deliberate breath through his nose.
“I cannot support a decision that will lead to your ruin,” he added. “You may think me hard, but I do this because I must. I will not allow you to fritter away your life.”
Thea stared at him, the echo of his words sinking deep before she found her own.
“Over the past few months, the two men I care for most in this world have declared, in turn, what my life is to be.” Her hand tightened around Phoebe’s letter until the paper crackled. “But it is not your choice to make. My future is mine to decide.”
Her father’s jaw tightened once more, but he said nothing. The silence pressed against her ribs, but Thea did not look away. Like a storm before the first crack of thunder, the air felt electrified, and Papa stood motionless, the sunlight from the window tracing the hard line of his cheek and the gray that threaded his hair. Thea waited for him to speak, to chastise her again or dismiss her outright, but no words came. He only stood there, shoulders drawn tight beneath the weight of what was passing between them.
Then something flickered behind that stern exterior. Small and fleeting, but impossible to ignore. His eyes, so sharp and certain, seemed older, as though bowing beneath the weight of centuries. Sorrow seeped into the edge of his gaze, and the sight startled her, stealing the breath from her lungs and forcing an ache deep into her bones.
And with a heavy breath, Papa said, “If you wish to forge your own path in life, then you will do so without our support. You have tonight to pack your things, but come tomorrow, you are barred from our home until you come to your senses.”
Chapter 37
Papa's voice was steady and even, showing no hint of the emotion Thea had spied in his eyes. “We will not give you a penny, and do not think you can throw yourself upon the mercy of your aunts and uncles, for their doors are closed to you as well.”
