If Duncan’s situation at Perkins & Cromley really was in danger, he must be feeling very unsettled. In exchange for Duncan’s employment, Perkins & Cromley paid a reduced rent. Elliott wasn’t sure they would actually terminate Duncan because of that agreement, but if Duncan was uncomfortable there, then the arrangement was not working.
“Look at her face,” Amelia said, drawing Elliott’s attention to Hazel, sitting on the bench. Her small face was calm, a contrast to Duncan’s animation. She nodded slowly, seeming to be listening to his rantings, but not interrupting as he continued.
She was an attractive woman with a commanding air and sharp mind. If not for her foot, she’d have had a very different life. Her words from their earlier interview came back to him: Duncan and I have been given difficult circumstances in life that do not put us in the same situation as the others.
He watched as Hazel began to speak, and Duncan, though he continued pacing, put his hands into his pockets as he listened. After nearly a minute, Hazel patted the other side of the bench.
Duncan paused, looked at the bench, then sat down on the opposite end, allowing several inches of space between them. He immediately took his hands out of his pockets and began gesturing again while Hazel once again listened, her energy composed and centered.
“I wonder,” Amelia said softly as she took Elliott’s hand and gave it a squeeze, “if there may be more potential here than any of us realize.”
Hazel lowered herself into the chair next to Duncan and across the desk from Uncle Elliott—the same chair she’d sat in for their first interview that had ended so badly. Duncan sat rigid and tense, reminding her of a cat ready to pounce if Uncle Elliott said the wrong thing. How Uncle Elliott could say the right thing at this point, she could not imagine.
She’d spent nearly an hour listening to and then talking Duncan down from his fit of temper, but he was still frustrated. During that time, she had wondered why she’d ever thought Uncle Elliott would agree. Though he’d made large sacrifices for the good of the Mayfield family, those sacrifices had still been choices he’d decided to make, balances he’d had the opportunity to weigh out. Hazel and Duncan were from an entirely different situation—their limitations were chronic and lifelong. Elliott could not be expected to understand what that was like.
Hazel was determined to remain respectful through this interview, however, which she expected would be Uncle Elliot’s attempt to clarify his position and restore friendly connections. There was no point in allowing the discord to continue—she had said all she needed to say—and so she would accept his olive branch without lingering resentment. She had no power over Duncan’s reaction, however. Should his anger be reignited, this very long day would be even longer, as she would once again need to talk him down.
Uncle Elliott smiled uncomfortably as he looked between them, his hands clasped on the desktop and his back nearly as rigid as Duncan’s. He had just opened his mouth to speak when the door to his study opened.
“My apologies,” the new Lady Howardsford said, looking first at Elliott and then between Hazel and Duncan as she entered the room. There were two blue, velvet-covered chairs set near the window, and she took hold of one as though to move it toward the desk.
Uncle Elliott jumped up and took over the task. She smiled her thanks at him in that easy sort of acknowledgment between couples that Hazel had seen only a handful of times in her life. An acceptance of the other, a joy of their company, a gratitude for the part they played in one another’s life.
Hazel inhaled to chase away the envy, replacing it easily enough with renewed cynicism. Uncle Elliott had come back to England after his heroic actions of saving the family from ruin and reclaimed the love of his youth. Bully for him.
Uncle Elliott settled the chair for the countess beside his on the other side of the desk. “I have spent these last hours discussing your proposal with Amelia,” he said.
“A proposal which is both appropriate and fair to all parties,” Duncan added.
Uncle Elliott opened his mouth but then seemed to reconsider and closed his mouth. He turned to look at his wife, raising his eyebrows at her expectantly and betraying the choreography of this meeting.
“I have a few questions,” Lady Howardsford asked, the softness of her voice changing the tension in the room just enough for Hazel to notice. “As I was not here for the original proposal, would you mind repeating it for me, Duncan, so that I am sure I understand it fully?”
“Certainly, Lady Howardsford,” Duncan said.
“Please, call me Amelia.”
“That would not be appropriate, but I shall explain the proposal.”
Duncan then repeated, almost word for word, the proposal he’d delivered to Uncle Elliott earlier that morning, which was almost word for word what he’d said to Hazel two weeks before in King’s Lynn.
“To make sure I am clear, you and Hazel are not in love with one another,” Amelia asked when he’d finished.
“Being in love with one’s proposed partner was not part of the criteria outlined in either of our inheritance proposals, nor is it a requirement for legal and lawful marriage in Great Britain.”
“Yes,” Amelia said, her voice still soft. “I just want to make sure I understand. And the two of you have no expectation of living with one another as man and wife?”
“Living together was also not stipulated in the inheritance proposal.” Duncan took a breath likely meant to fuel a further explanation.
Amelia hurried to cut him off. “I know that as well. Both of those things, however, are implied expectations of your uncle’s proposal to all of his nieces and nephews.”
“Implied expectation is hardly enforceable,” Duncan said, a tone of disgust in his voice that, under other circumstances, would have made Hazel smile for its sincerity. He was quite particular about certain things.
“Implied expectation is enforceable because I am the only one who can approve your choice,” Uncle Elliott said defensively.
Duncan’s already stiff posture became tighter. Hazel reached over and put her hand on his arm, meaning to calm him and remind him that they were in this together. He jerked his arm away and turned his head toward her though he looked at the wall behind her head. “Do not touch me!”
Hazel startled, and the room went quiet. The heat that rose up her neck was a stark contrast to the sense of victory she’d felt when she’d been able to calm him down in the garden.
“Duncan!” Uncle Elliott reprimanded.
“It is all right,” Hazel said, though her face burned. “Please continue, Lady How—Amelia.” She put her hand back into her lap and held Amelia’s look, nodding that she was all right.