Elliott had encouraged Harry to assess the immediate needs of Falconridge for a few days, starting yesterday, so that he would not be here. Upon Lady Sabrina’s return in February, Harry was planning to make her an offer that, oddly enough, Amelia and Elliott both thought she would accept; they had met her in London and felt her Harry’s perfect partner.
In large part because of Harry’s improvements, Elliott had felt increasingly confident in his “marriage campaign” and was prepared to encourage Hazel and Duncan to not give up. He had not expected anything like this. How could his inheritances be so horribly misunderstood? Willfully so or not. It was a gift. A reason to seek something they were hesitant to seek. Why did they not embrace it and express their gratitude? The spinning top wobbled, and he grabbed it before it fell.
“Where is Hazel now?” Amelia said.
“She went after Duncan.” One twist of his hand and the top spun and spun and spun; that was how he had envisioned his marriage inheritances happening. He would set the possibility in motion, and it would move forward with an energy of its own. “Duncan thinks that I am prejudiced toward the working class.”
“Are you not?” Amelia asked, standing and moving to the north windows that overlooked the gardens of Howard House.
“Amelia!” Elliott stammered, leaning back in his chair and staring at her incredulously. “How can you say such a thing? I have absolute respect for the working class of our country.”
“But they are not as good as gentry in your mind, are they?” She raised an eyebrow and moved to the next window, pausing this time to stare at something through the glass. Probably the family of rabbits that lived in the hedge; Amelia loved those rabbits, even though they regularly decimated the foliage.
“I am not making any judgment of goodness, only equanimity of situation,” Elliott explained. “Ask Peter and Timothy how well the inequity worked for their parents—scandal and disaster.”
“That is an extreme example. Teddy was the son of a viscount and their mother was a chambermaid. Need I remind you that my Julia is of working class and you approved her.”
“That was different.”
“Only because you see it differently,” Amelia countered. “Duncan is respectable middle class, so it is an unequal expectation for him to marry into the gentry; you know men do not marry up half so easily as women. Hazel has been supporting herself for more than ten years, which means she is technically working class as well.”
Elliott slumped in his chair. “That is what she said.” The pyramid wobbled again, and this time he let it fall. He stared at the fallen monument for several seconds. “My reasons for each inheritance are as different as each of these young people in my charge. I wanted Peter to consider finding love again, Timothy to not have to marry for fortune, and Harry to have reason to change his dissolute ways and settle into a responsible existence.
“For Hazel and Duncan—I knew that neither of them factored the opportunity of marriage very highly, so I tried to create a plan that would encourage them to consider the possibilities. I wanted to give them a reason to look for it.” He sighed. “I did not expect that they would act out of greed.”
“Hmm,” Amelia said, still looking out the window.
“Are you even listening to me?” Elliott asked, offended by her apparent distraction.
“Of course, I am, dear,” she said, still not turning in his direction. “But I’m also thinking. You wanted them to consider marriage by giving them incentives that would bring that possibility to the forefronts of their minds, yes?”
Elliott huffed a breath. “That is what I just said, Amelia. You weren’t listening.”
“I would think you would see their petition today as a success, then. They are both considering marriage and seeing beyond the boundaries of their lives to this point.”
“They are manipulating the intention behind the inheritances.”
She turned to look at him. “Are you quite certain of that?”
“I want them to fall in love and be loved in return. I want them to have families that will serve as a foundation for the rest of their lives. I want to fortify the connection between the families of their siblings and cousins so that those bonds that were once broken in the Mayfield line might be restored. These inheritances were not meant to only provide them financial security, they were meant to provide for generational comfort and connection.”
“And if they found comfort and connection in each other?”
Elliott shook his head. “Hazel was quite clear that they would marry to receive the inheritances and that was all. She wants to buy the school where she currently teaches in King’s Lynn.”
“Ah, darling Hazel,” Amelia said with a sigh. “She has done an admirable job of making a life for herself, hasn’t she?”
“Of course,” Elliott said, though he did not see how that applied to this particular topic.
He greatly admired Hazel’s independence and how well she had overcome her disadvantages, but she was approaching this from that position rather than widening her expectations. It was frustrating that of the five individual presentations of these marriage inheritances, only Timothy had grasped his intentions from the start.
Peter had found the invitation insulting, as he’d never planned to marry again, and Harry had focused only on the fact that Elliott would no longer pay his debts. Hazel had been perfectly offended. Elliott had thought Duncan grasped the idea; he’d been gracious when presented the plan, but he’d now proven himself ignorant of the purpose too.
Why was it so difficult for people to see the brilliance of this idea? Why did Peter and Timothy’s successful arrangements not give the others hope for their own happiness? It was maddening.
Elliott had returned to England three years ago after learning of his sister Jane’s death—his last living sibling. He’d come back determined to gather his remaining family around himself while setting them on paths to success their parents had not set out for them. He had not foreseen giving that gift to be this difficult.
Amelia continued to stare out the window, and Elliott made a discontented huff.
“Have you nothing else to say?” he asked sarcastically.
Instead of an answer, she beckoned him to join her at the window. She held back the sheer curtain. He scowled until she gave him a pointed look, eyebrows raised, and gestured to the portion of floor beside her at the window. “I want you to see something.”
Elliott huffed again and pushed himself up from the chair. Was this any time to watch the rabbits?
He joined her at the window.
Hazel sat on the stone bench outside the arbor that led into the rose garden. Duncan paced in front of her, gesturing angrily as he spoke words Elliott could not hear. Seeing him upset humbled Elliott somewhat.