She limped to the carriage and let the footman help her inside. She would not see Sophie until the year-long arrangement was up, and by then, the school would have already begun its first fall term under Sophie’s management. Hazel wished she could be there for the beginning, but had she not agreed to this year away, she would not have the school at all.
She and Amelia had only just moved through the barest of small talk in the jostling carriage before Amelia produced a notebook filled with pages of notes regarding Hazel and Duncan’s wedding. Hazel could not capture her vision, however, and felt her anxiety mounting as the details continued to pour from Amelia’s mouth. She had planned aspects Hazel had never thought about: a luncheon and flowers and a wedding gown—the final fitting for which was scheduled this coming Monday. When she began talking of guests, Hazel could take no more.
“I know I asked you to manage the wedding, Aunt Amelia, but I had no expectation of all of . . . this. I have a dress that will serve the purpose.”
“Wearing an ordinary dress does not diminish the importance of these covenants.”
“Wearing a formal dress does not empower such covenants either,” Hazel said in a soft but firm tone. “I am not accustomed to being the center of attention and do not want any of the typical pomp and ceremony. I am sorry I did not realize until now what you were planning. I did not fully appreciate the details, but I am not comfortable with this.” She waved toward the papers in Amelia’s hands.
Amelia looked at her for a few moments before she spoke, the feather of her bonnet bouncing in time with the road. “It should be a special day, Hazel.”
“It is a business arrangement, Amelia.”
Amelia pursed her lips.
“I understand you want to pretend this is a real marriage, but it is not. Duncan and I are fulfilling the terms of a business contract, and while I am willing to go through the basic expectations of the wedding, I would prefer to wear my own dress to shore up my comfort in an uncomfortable circumstance. And I only want you and Uncle there to witness.”
The carriage hit a rut in the road, and Amelia reached for the fabric loop fastened to the ceiling. “No guests?” she said, surprise and dismay in her tone. “What of Harry and Hannah? Of your cousins? I’ve already written out the invitations.”
“Especially not them,” Hazel said, looking out the window. “They know of the inheritances and will see through all of it. If for nothing else than Uncle Elliott’s insistence that no one know the details of our arrangement, those most likely to solve the puzzle of it should be kept as far away as possible.”
The only thing worse than her family discovering the truth of the arrangement would be the pity that would follow.
Hannah—the daughter their parents had always wanted—would make a pouty face and call Hazel “poor dear” as she fussed over her the way their mother had fussed over Hannah herself on her wedding day. Harry would slap her on the back and congratulate her on taking advantage of the situation.
Her cousins were little more than strangers to her, but she did not want their judgment. Besides, what would Harry or Hannah think of Duncan? Harry would identify Duncan’s peculiarities in a glance and taunt him into saying ridiculous things. Hannah would feel sorrier for Hazel than she already did to be marrying such an unusual man.
Amelia did not say anything, but merely folded her notes back into the leather cover and placed it beside her on the bench on the far side of the carriage.
“Are you sure about this marriage, Hazel?” Amelia asked softly, but loudly enough to be heard over the carriage wheels rattling beneath them. “If it does not feel right to you, do not push ahead. Find another way.”
“There is no other way,” Hazel said, continuing to look out the window and avoid eye contact. “And I feel right about the marriage. I simply do not want to pretend the vows we make to one another are more than the essentials.”
“All right,” Amelia said.
Hazel gave her a sidelong look, primed to continue her defense. But Amelia had her hands in her lap, the picture of accommodation.
The plan had been to go to Howard House and stay there for the next three weeks, but without a wedding party to plan, was that wait necessary?
“Thank you for preparing the Ipswich house.”
Amelia smiled, which helped Hazel set aside her fear that her position had damaged their friendship. “It is called Lavender House, and it is on land that was once a friary. Preparing the house was quite enjoyable for me, and Duncan helped with a great deal of the details. He is moved in and settled, though Elizabeth has been a bit of a trial.”
Hazel laughed. “Yes, he wrote to me saying she keeps returning to the Burrow Building.”
Amelia nodded. “He finally sealed shut the window she’d been using at his old apartment and revised the window to his new bedroom to allow her access, but she’ll stay out on the roof and complain at him.” She laughed, and Hazel laughed with her.
“He is already living there, then?”
“Yes, as of Wednesday,” Amelia said. “Elliott’s solicitor has spent a great deal of time teaching him the management of the building. I think it’s been rather overwhelming, but he has risen to the responsibility. Mr. Southey should be gone as of today, which means, come Monday, Duncan will have his own office.” She shook her head. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know him. He can be . . . intimidating, but he is good-hearted.”
“Yes,” Hazel agreed, paused, and then spoke before she lost her nerve. “What if we got married . . . sooner?”
Amelia blinked. “How much sooner?”
“If the house is ready, and if the wedding doesn’t require the time we thought, and if Duncan is finished with his responsibility to Perkins & Cromley, I see no reason to wait.”
“Well . . .” Amelia shifted on her seat. “The banns have been read, and if there are no invitations to send out, I suppose it can take place whenever you and Duncan decide.”
“I shall write to him as soon as we arrive at Howard House. Thank you for understanding.”
“I am not sure I understand any of this,” Amelia said, putting out her hands, palms up, before she folded them back into her lap. “But I nearly ruined my relationship with my own daughter when she wanted to marry Peter, and I am determined to have learned from that.” She waved one hand through the air and looked out the window. “That is a story for another time,” she said with a smile. “However, there are other things we should discuss if you truly want to move up the date of the wedding.”
The road had smoothed some, but the feather in her bonnet continued to dance above her head. “You shall need a new wardrobe, for example—dresses, underthings, gloves, and hats.”