As soon as she opened the door to the street, she saw Duncan approaching. He put out his arm for her to take, and then led her to the carriage. She thought that, in this moment, they likely looked like a perfectly ordinary couple. She felt a surge of pride at the thought.
He helped her into the carriage, his hand resting on her back a moment to help her keep her balance on the step, and the sensation made her blush—this blushing was getting out of hand. Once inside, she fell into the seat—there were no rails to ease a smoother transition—and Duncan slid in across from her. Beside him on the seat was a stack of periodicals he must have put there before she’d finished her appointment.
“Was the cobbler proficient enough to meet your needs?” Duncan asked as the carriage lurched forward.
“He was excellent,” Hazel said. “Thank you, again, for arranging the appointment.”
“It was no trouble,” Duncan said. “I am glad you are satisfied.”
“I am looking forward to the new boot. He found this one almost offensive.”
“As do I.”
Hazel startled. “What?”
“The uneven wear shows that it was not properly crafted,” Duncan said, waving toward her hem and prompting her to pull her boot back beneath the curtain of her skirt. “Whatever cobbler made it for you did not do an adequate job. That is offensive to any man who takes pride in his work.”
“Of course,” Hazel said, keeping to herself that she’d thought he was offended by her foot, not the construction of the boot. “How was your visit with Dr. Randall?”
“Wonderful,” he said, growing animated. “Dr. Randall has purchased a medical device called a stethoscope, the name of which I believe has roots in Greek. It is quite fascinating. It is a brass tube which condenses sound when placed against any surface, specifically a person’s chest. He let me listen, and I could hear the actual beats of his heart, which are not only percussive but also have whooshing tonations as the blood moves from one portion of the heart to another. I also listened to the inhalation and exhalation of air through his lungs. Perfectly fascinating.”
“It does sound fascinating. Did the discussion occupy the whole of the visit?”
Duncan looked out the window and cleared his throat, which made her wonder if there was something he did not want to tell her.
He suddenly looked directly at her with that unblinking stare he sometimes used. “What do you know about vaccinations?”
The sharpness of his words startled her, but she was learning to simply go with what he said and not expect clarity as she might from someone else. “Do you mean the theory of inoculation against disease by giving the patient a reduced version? I find it a bit frightening as disease is something I believe we should avoid at all costs.”
Duncan’s face lit up. “You have read about vaccinations, then?”
“I have read about Dr. Jenner and his cowpox.”
Duncan smiled and relaxed, nodding his head with excitement. “Wonderful. Let us discuss.”
The conversation followed them from the carriage to the study where Amelia was finishing her correspondence. Duncan brought up the theory that bloodletting was a sound practice to remove tainted blood; Hazel disagreed, and the conversation grew rather heated
Duncan finally said he needed to return to the office even though he had no appointments and no work.
After he left, Hazel took a breath and let her energy settle back to normal levels.
“That was a very . . . intense discussion,” Amelia said after a minute of silence. She had moved onto her needlework.
“Indeed, it was,” Hazel said, pushing herself up from the chair and walking to the bookcase. Lavender House had been mostly furnished, and Hazel particularly appreciated the collection of books that, while not extensive, covered a variety of topics.
She pulled The Canterbury Tales from the shelf. It had only been three days since she’d arrived in Ipswich, and each day had been packed with lessons from Amelia on how to manage this new life. An hour or two of reading before the appointment with the dressmaker would feel like a holiday.
“Was that conversation uncomfortable for you?” Amelia asked.
Hazel turned, putting too much weight on her bad foot. Pain shot up her hip. She caught her breath but spoke as soon as she could so as not to draw attention to her discomfort. “Not at all.”
“Even when he said you were ignorant of the facts? I was offended on your behalf.”
Hazel laughed. “I am ignorant of the facts, or at least those facts. Duncan is very well read and has an incredible memory. I always come away from our discussions more knowledgeable than I began.”
Amelia made a gesture somewhere between a shrug and a shake of her head. “ I suppose every relationship is unique in one way or another. I could never tolerate such insulting comments.”
“From someone else, such things would be insulting, but it is different with Duncan. He is not trying to . . . win or keep me in my place. He is simply passionate and eager to share his point of view. If you notice, he also listens to what I have to say.”
“Does he?”
Hazel smiled, thinking of Duncan’s expression when he was listening, tight and ready to speak as soon as his turn came again. “Well, sometimes.”
“You truly do not mind it, though? His . . . manner.”
Hazel gave the question adequate consideration before formulating a reply. “I have not spent much time in his company until these last few days, and though there are times when I am annoyed or uncomfortable, I am learning that I can be as direct with him as he is with me, and he is responsive to that.”
Amelia seemed to consider that. “During the meeting at Howard House, you told him to be quiet and he was.”
“Exactly,” Hazel said. “There is something to be said for obedience and honesty.”
“Enough to make up for his lack of tact?”
Hazel limped back to the chair. She put the book on the side table, then grasped the arms of the chair to lower herself into the seat. She picked up the book again. “Perhaps because I have trusted so few people in my life, I am willing to choose honesty over tact without much hesitation at all.”
Amelia watched her closely for a few seconds. “Hmm,” she said simply before returning to her needlework.
Hazel opened her book, but she worried she’d been too positive in her replies to Amelia’s questions. She did not want to give Amelia the wrong idea, and yet hadn’t she just proclaimed honesty to be an essential virtue? It would be hypocritical for her to then be dishonest in her feelings regarding Duncan’s manner.