Greyson inclined his head. “A wise compromise.”
Hazel could breathe again, for the first time since the moment the duke had stepped into their home.
“Well, then,” her mother stood up, “I’d best alert Cook to begin creating delicacies and… well, to rearrange the entire household!”
A moment later, she was gone, and the parlor felt blessedly quiet. Patience and Chastity perched attentively on the settee, pretending to be proper chaperones, though their eyes sparkled with poorly concealed fascination.
Hazel turned to Greyson.
“How on earth did you do that?” she demanded in a whisper. “I have never been able to handle Mama like that, not once in my entire life.”
Greyson lifted one shoulder in a quiet shrug. “I noticed you were uncomfortable. So, I offered a solution that would satisfy everyone.”
Hazel blinked at him. “That was not a solution. That was… sorcery.”
Chastity giggled behind her hand.
Greyson’s mouth twitched. It was almost, but not quite, a smile. “Hardly sorcery, Miss Thorne.”
Hazel shook her head incredulously. “No, truly. Mama has never listened to me.Ever. She listened to you as if you were an oracle arising from Delphi.”
Patience added, “She even stopped talking.”
Chastity nodded solemnly. “That never happens.”
Hazel ignored her sisters’ commentary and focused on the duke. “How did you manage it?”
Greyson folded his hands calmly. “It is merely a matter of practice.”
“Practice?” Hazel repeated. “Practice handling overly enthusiastic women?”
Chastity choked on her tea.
Greyson’s silver gaze flicked to Hazel. “Practice handling disputes and strong opinions. My tenants are fond of disagreements. My household staff even more so. And in the House of Lords…” He paused, choosing his words with care. “Let us simply say that clarity and reason are the only weapons worth carrying.”
Hazel studied him with her brow raised. “So, you merely… reasoned with her?”
“Yes.”
“She never listens to reason,” Hazel muttered. “Not mine, at least.”
Greyson tilted his head slightly. “Then perhaps she needed to hear it from someone she considers impartial.”
Hazel blinked. “Impartial?”
“You and she are too close in the matter,” he said simply. “Emotion interferes. But I am… outside the equation.”
Hazel considered that. It made sense. It was actually unsettling how much sense it made. And yet, there was something reassuring in his tone, revealing that he followed the path of fairness.
“You handled it well.” She surprised herself with those words.
Greyson inclined his head. “It was the logical thing to do.”
“Logical isn’t always easy,” Hazel replied. “Or… kind.”
He didn’t say anything to that. He merely held her gaze. She couldn’t get the wordfairnessout of her mind. She liked fairness. She respected it. It was one of the few qualities she valued above all else, because she had spent her life surrounded by chaos, impulse, and emotion. Fairness was calm and safe, and for the first time since this entire disaster began, she comprehended that Grayson Thornhill’s coldness wasn’t cruelty. It was discipline, reason and control. And somehow, it didn’t repel her.
“Logic can be very helpful,” he suddenly added.
