“This proposal perfectly fulfills the terms of our contracts,” Hazel said to her uncle, lifting her chin in what looked like defiance. “Therefore, I do not see how you can object.”
“Actually,” Duncan cut in, lifting a finger as a physical signal of his interruption for the sake of clarification. “I do not fulfill the terms of Hazel’s contract in regard to her finding a husband of gentle birth. That is the one weakness of our plan, but we are hopeful that your regard for me will override your prejudice against the working class and—”
“Prejudice?” Lord Howardsford said, without any indication he was going to interrupt. He sat up straighter in his chair. “I am not prejudiced against the working class.”
“I would respectfully argue that point, my Lord. You wrote into both of our contracts that our intended partners must be of gentle birth, which shows a preference for those of gentry class over those of working class.”
“I am not prejudiced,” Lord Howardsford said again, his neck turning red. “I only want to ensure equanimity of status and situation, as those are important elements in a happy marriage.”
“If equanimity is the goal, then my terms should state I should find a wife of working class, as that is my status and situation and the class into which I was born and raised,” Duncan said.
“I am also working class,” Hazel added. “Which means that if it is equanimity you wish to achieve, I should not be required to marry a gentleman.”
“Hazel,” Lord Howardsford said, looking at her directly. “You are of gentle birth and—”
“Twenty-eight years old, crippled, dependent on myself for my support, and smarter than most men.” She shrugged, which Duncan found perplexing, as her voice was animated and reflected intense feeling. “I was also educated in an all-girl’s school and have taught in all-girl’s schools for more than a decade. I can count on two hands the men I have had actual conversations with in the last five years.”
She held up her two hands, palms facing Lord Howardsford. She lowered one finger at a time as she continued. “You, Duncan, and Harry top that list. Then comes Mr. Fawson, the seventy-three-year-old gardener at St. Mary’s. The other six men are fathers of my students who either wanted to discuss their daughter’s progress or debate some point of scholarship with a woman for the game of trying to best me, which they rarely did.”
Duncan laughed at the summation of Hazel’s prospects, but then stopped when both Hazel and Lord Howardsford looked at him, their expressions void of any humor.
Lord Howardsford frowned. “Fathers of students are excellent prospects for you, Hazel. Perhaps you should not dismiss them so easily.”
Hazel’s jaw tightened.
“He does make a point,” Duncan said.
“Be quiet, Duncan,” Hazel said, looking only at Lord Howardsford.
He went quiet.
“I will not be marrying anyone, Uncle Elliott, unless you approve Duncan. I have no interest in the sort of man who would marry me for money, and I have no romantic fantasies for any man to fulfill. Duncan is not just the only option for me, but the perfect one. He will have his own financial security, he will allow me full discretion to the money I would inherit, and he’s comfortable living a separate life of his own.”
“Marriage should not be about living separate lives,” Lord Howardsford said.
“Many partners give less accommodation to their marital status than either of us would. We have already proven to be effective communicators in regard to finances and other life changes. Should we need someone to help us sort out personal problems, we would likely turn to one another in that capacity. That is far and above what many married couples expect of one another.”
“Hazel, you are willfully misunderstanding my intentions.”
Hazel squared her shoulders as her expression turned rather aggressive. Why was she so much easier for him to read than other people? “As I have never fully understood your intentions, that is entirely possible.”
They glared at one another across the table, then Lord Howardsford looked at Duncan. “Hazel claims you are her ideal partner, Duncan, and she would have no other man. Do you feel the same? Marrying Hazel would prevent you from ever marrying another woman. Are you certain that she is your ideal partner?”
Duncan said nothing.
Hazel turned to look at him too. “Duncan, tell him why I am your ideal partner.”
He inferred that along with her request, he was being given permission to speak once more. He cleared his throat. “Hazel is my ideal marital partner because she fulfills the terms of your inheritance parameters.”
They both watched him for several seconds.
“Is there any other reason, Duncan?” Lord Howardsford said.
“No.”
“Duncan,” Hazel said. Her jaw remained remarkably tight. “Are there any additional reasons why I am a good choice for you to marry?”
“Oh, well you also have an inheritance that, Lord Howardsford willing, I can be approved to fulfill.”
“And . . . ?” Hazel made a winding motion with her hand.
“And?” Duncan repeated, confused by what she was asking. Perhaps he was not any better at determining her mood and emotion than he was with any other person after all.
“Is there any other reason why you are marrying me and not another woman with a marriage inheritance?”
“I do not know any other women with a marriage inheritance of which I could be the fulfilling partner.”
Hazel made a growling sound that reminded him of the dogs on the street where he’d grown up. Duncan did not like dogs.
There was still a grumble in her tone when she spoke again. “Do we have accord with one another, Duncan?”
“Yes,” Duncan said with a nod.
“Explain that accord to Uncle Elliott.”
He nodded and turned to Lord Howardsford, focusing on the knot of his cravat; it was the most comfortable place to look when talking to a man. “I find Hazel an interesting conversationalist, and I admire her grasp of mathematics. She is remarkably self-possessed and honest, and she does not laugh at me or speak in ways that are confusing or out of context. I enjoy her company and feel equal to her in regard to life goals and intellect, something which I have never found with any other woman.”
Hazel and Lord Howardsford’s expressions changed, but he could not determine if it was favorable. Duncan looked at his knees, placing them exactly parallel to one another and imagined an angled line crossing the parallels. He began writing a linear equation in his mind to distract him from their uncomfortable staring.