Amelia looked concerned, but cleared her throat. “We are only trying to clarify your expectations so we can better meet them, Duncan, that is all. At the risk of being indelicate, is there no expectation of . . . intimacy between you. No children?”
“That is not a stipulation of the—”
Uncle Elliott cut Duncan off. “Enough of this, I believe we are clear on the expectations from your side of the table. I would like to negotiate the terms of your proposal.”
Silence.
“Negotiate which terms?” Duncan asked after a few seconds, leaning slightly forward, his posture curious.
Uncle Elliott and Amelia shared a look Hazel thought was meant to inspire courage. She felt her own muscles tighten, exhausted by all the emotional energy the day had required. Did Duncan feel any of that emotional tension, she wondered? Or only his own disappointment? Sometimes he seemed to exist above things like feelings and internal struggle, and yet other times, he showed great insight. He always took her arm when they walked up any steps, for instance, and did not hesitate to compliment people when he felt impressed by something they had done or said.
Uncle Elliott looked between them, and Hazel centered her focus as he spoke. “As Duncan pointed out earlier, you are asking us to accommodate the fact that Duncan’s class does not fulfill the expectations of Hazel’s inheritance.”
Duncan tapped his finger on the desk. “Which class requirement we have already pointed out is an unfair expectation due to her deformity.”
“Duncan!” Amelia said, shocked. “That was uncalled for!”
Heat flooded Hazel’s cheeks that had only just cooled. “It is all right,” she said. The sooner this meeting came to an end, the better. Without looking at Duncan, she said, “Please continue, Uncle Elliott.”
Uncle Elliott hesitated, but when she waved him forward, he nodded and resumed his explanation. “I propose that in exchange for me approving Duncan as Hazel’s choice in husband, that the two of you live together for one year’s time after the wedding.”
Hazel let out a breath, realizing belatedly that it had been audible to the rest of the room. Live together? Her and Duncan?
Duncan leaned forward even further. “Hazel’s plan will forgo the expectation of gentry in exchange for our agreeing to one year of cohabitation?”
“Let us not call it . . . that,” Uncle Elliott said. “You will be legally married and will live as such in a marital home for one year. You must not confide in anyone that you are not expecting to live that way for the rest of your lives, and therefore you will live and socialize as any other married couple would.”
Hazel took a deep breath against the anxiety swirling and churning in her chest. Living with Duncan—or any man for that matter—wasn’t something Hazel had considered since she had been a young girl. At the possibility, however, the youthful imaginings of what, for most people, was a normal and ordinary expectation began to play out. Breakfasting at the same table. Sharing the events of the day over dinner each night. Separate bedrooms, of course, but someone to sit beside at the fire. Not surrounded by students and teachers every hour of every day. There was something unreal about it, as though she were looking at a painting meant to symbolize a world different from her own.
Regular women—wives—had morning calls and a variety of dresses to accommodate whatever the day held. They managed a household, chose furniture, had servants. Hazel recalled a memory of her mother discussing menus with their housekeeper, Mrs. Grey, and chiding a maid who spilled a bucket of ash on the rug after cleaning out the fireplace. Hazel tried to put her own face and twisted posture into those scenes. It would not fit. She was no “Mistress of the Manor.”
And Duncan? Would he go riding in the morning and dress for dinner? That was the life of a gentleman, which he was not, but she could not picture what the life of the middle class looked like since the only family life she knew was that of an estate house. She enjoyed his company but had shared it so little. Would he irritate her if they spent more time together? How did he act in public? But then again, Hazel did not socialize or go to public places like regular women did. She did not attend church, she could not dance, she did not throw dinner parties. Would she be expected to throw dinner parties?
I am not that woman, she thought. Duncan is not that man. How would it work?
“Hazel?”
She looked up from the spot of carpet where her eyes had become fixed. The conversation had continued without her, and now all three of them were looking at her. Duncan’s posture had softened, and his eyes showed excitement that increased her own anxiety. Was Duncan in favor of this madness?
She settled her attention on Uncle Elliott even as she settled herself into the present moment. “You think that if we live in the same house as a married couple, we will find comfort in that lifestyle enough to fulfill all your expectations of family and future.”
“What?” Duncan said, stiffening once more and turning to Elliott.
Duncan’s offense justified her discomfort and spurred her boldness.
“The reason for this stipulation, Duncan, is that Uncle Elliott believes living as man and wife will lead us to develop an emotional connection to one another, and we would therefore want to remain living as a traditional married couple after the year has passed—thus fulfilling the implied expectations of his original proposal.”
“Love is not a requirement, however,” Elliott said. “How could it be?”
Hazel held his eyes and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. It was ridiculous that she should feel emotional, but this new proposal was yet one more reflection of Uncle Elliott’s inability to face the truth of their situations.
“It is a good thing you do not require that as an additional stipulation,” Duncan said, nodding and relaxed again. “Because emotional connection between two people cannot be guaranteed in such a way.”
Duncan’s insight distracted her, and she stared at him. Who was this man? Why did he think the way that he did? How did he feel? What was important to him in his life? Living with him for one year’s time would likely show her the answers to all of these questions. However, the two of them as a married couple would be like a carnival sideshow. Her twisted foot and his awkward demeanor would be gossiped about and laughed at behind the hands of their neighbors.
Hazel could feel Amelia watching her and was glad she knew how to hide her feelings.
“Exactly right, Duncan. I cannot guarantee anything of the sort,” Uncle Elliott said. “So, what have you? Do we all agree to the terms?”
“Yes,” Duncan said with a sharp nod.
“We need more information,” Hazel said, putting out her hand as though to stop Uncle Elliott’s words. “How would it work? Where would we live? I cannot manage a school I cannot live in, and Duncan cannot leave his work in Ipswich.” Unless he could, she found herself thinking. Uncle Elliott managed the Burrow Building from afar, and Duncan did not like his work. But what would he do in King’s Lynn? And why was her mind trying to solve this equation that had no rational basis?