“You would give me full discretion over my dowry?”
“It was bestowed upon you just as the Burrow Building was bestowed upon me. You deserve to have full control of it. You could buy your school.”
The air in the room froze, and Hazel blinked at him. “Buy Cordon Academy?”
“You said in your letter dated August fifth that the current owner of Cordon Academy was looking to sell. She should sell it to you, and you should continue to offer the advanced classes that girls deserve access to the same as boys—it is what you have explained is your wish and desire. You can then make any changes you feel appropriate to the curriculum and run the school yourself.”
Hazel opened her mouth but could find no words.
Duncan popped up from the chair and began pacing in the space between the chair and the window. “For my part,” he explained, “I shall become the owner of the Burrow Building and can work from my own accounting office that will be dedicated to proper practices of finance. I can set the office hours from nine a.m. to six p.m. and only hire competent junior clerks as my assistants. I shall make income from the rents of the building and have more control over who I rent to—for instance, I shall give Mr. Southey immediate notice. He dumps his bin in the alley and has regular altercations with Delores over any number of petty irritants that do not warrant his interference.”
He continued explaining his plans for the Burrow Building for several minutes, giving Hazel adequate time to consider this idea from every possible direction. When he finished repeating himself, he stopped pacing and looked at her, direct and in the eye.
“Are you agreeable to this arrangement?”
“My school”—she blushed at having taken ownership already—“this school is in King’s Lynn; the Burrow Building is in Ipswich. We would . . . live separately?”
“Of course,” Duncan said with a nod. “As the marriage is solely for the purpose of attaining our inheritances, there is no need for cohabitation.”
Hazel nodded, feeling the prick of disappointment again before arguing herself out of it. When she’d thought he was coming to propose marriage, she’d wondered how she would determine if any stated affection was genuine and not based solely on the wealth he would receive upon their marriage. She should have known he would not pretend to feel anything he did not feel. Focus. He did not love her, and he did not want her money.
“Separate locations are in the best interest of us and Elizabeth,” he said before she’d managed to determine what to say out loud.
“Elizabeth?” Hazel said, her thoughts taking another sharp turn. “Who is Elizabeth?”
It was after dinner when Sophie knocked on Hazel’s door, two knocks, a pause, and two more knocks—as was her signal. She had accompanied the girls on a day trip to the pier, and though Hazel would have liked to analyze her meeting with Duncan with Sophie before now, she appreciated having time to review it on her own.
“Come in,” Hazel called.
Gretchen had already helped her into her nightdress and into bed. She could not use the maid as her personal assistant regularly, however, she appreciated the help tonight. Her knee was badly bruised from last night’s fall, and though she’d rubbed it with lavender oil and wrapped it tightly, it ached something awful.
Sophie let herself in and pulled the chair from its place beside the dresser to the edge of Hazel’s bed. She leaned in with bright anticipation in her eyes. “Tell me everything!”
“He wants us to marry in name only so he might gain his inheritance of the Burrow Building. He will then give the entire fifty thousand pounds of my dowry to me so I may build my own independent life.”
Sophie’s eyes went wide, and she remained perfectly still for several seconds. “What?”
Hazel repeated the explanation, and Sophie leaned against the chair back. “In name only? Oh, Hazel . . .”
Hazel shook her head quickly to waylay the regretful tone. “It is all right. As I told you, I was not sure I could be his wife, and I have no worry for that now. He is not the sort of man any woman could tolerate for long—he paced for the whole of his explanation, then sat down to eat a second round of refreshment, and then popped back up to pace while essentially repeating everything he’d already said. He barely let me get a word in edgewise. But he was not the least bit deceitful in his presentation, which I appreciate. I feel that I know exactly what to expect from him.”
“You would never be able to marry anyone else,” Sophie said, her eyes still wide. “Both of you would be legally committed to one another for the duration of your lives.”
“I will not marry anyone else anyway, you know this.”
“I know that is what you have always believed, but what if you meet a man who makes your heart skip and—”
“I am willing to take that risk,” Hazel said, because it was not a true risk. “He suggested I purchase Cordon Academy with the money from my dowry and manage my own school.”
Sophie froze just as Hazel had when Duncan had proposed the idea in the drawing room. Then she leaned forward and grabbed for Hazel’s hand, full understanding dawning on her round face. “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed.
Hazel looked Sophie in the eye. “Now, you must understand that I do not believe my uncle will allow it; he has to approve our partners, and Duncan and I marrying one another is not at all in keeping with his purpose in offering these inheritances, but . . .”
“But?” Sophie repeated.
Hazel took a breath and lowered her guard enough to let Sophie into the fantasy growing in her mind. She was a fool to even consider it, but the idea would not let go of her. “If, for some reason, this actually works and I receive fifty thousand pounds, would you help me run Cordon Academy as an advanced school for girls?”
Sophie gasped and took hold of both of Hazel’s hands. Hazel remained silent, watching Sophie work through all the thoughts racing in her mind.
Tears began to fill her friend’s eyes. “Do you mean it, Hazel?”
Hazel nodded and felt a lump in her own throat both from offering such an opportunity and fearing that it would never be reality. Focusing on this possibility was how she had managed her feelings about not being asked to be a real wife.
“I am only twenty-eight years old, but you and I, together, with fifty thousand pounds at our disposal . . .” Hazel smiled. “We could create a school that we ourselves could only have dreamed of when we were girls.”
“A school of your own,” Sophie breathed, sitting back in her chair and releasing Hazel’s hands.
“Of our own,” Hazel said. “Partners, legal and binding. Of course, saying this is completely premature, but—”