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Something shifted in her expression—a softening that revealed vulnerability beneath her composed exterior. "You've thought this through more thoroughly than I would have expected," she said quietly.

"I've had excellent instruction in rigorous thinking these past weeks," Chilton replied with a small smile. "A certain bluestocking set a rather high standard."

That drew a genuine laugh from her, the sound warming him more than he could express.

"And your sister?" Meredith asked, sobering slightly. "How does Lady Hurst view this unconventional proposal?"

"Caroline and I have reached an understanding," Chilton said, choosing his words carefully.

"She has recognized that while her guidance was valuable during my early years as baron, the time has come for me to chart my own course.

She may not fully approve of all my choices, but she has acknowledged my right to make them. "

"That represents significant change," Meredith observed. "For both of you."

"Indeed," Chilton agreed. “My entire household has to adjust since many of the servants were still in the habit of turning to her for guidance.”

Chilton chuckled and ran a hand restlessly through his hair.

"Though the most significant change has been in my own understanding of responsibility.

I realize now that preserving tradition for its own sake is not the same as honouring the true purpose of privilege.

If my position grants me influence, surely that influence should be directed toward meaningful improvement rather than mere maintenance. "

The sentiment clearly resonated with Meredith, whose expression reflected growing appreciation of the depth of his transformation.

"And if I were to say that I need time?" she asked, her tone gentle but her question direct. "That while I find your proposal compelling—both educational and personal—I require opportunity to consider its implications fully?"

"Then I would respect that need," Chilton replied without hesitation. "Partnership founded on pressure rather than free choice would contradict everything I value about you, Meredith."

He leaned back slightly, giving her both physical and metaphorical space.

"I return to Sutcliffe tomorrow. The school initiative there will proceed regardless of your decision about our personal connection.

But should you wish to visit—to see Mary Williams and the other children who would benefit from your expertise—you would be most welcome. "

Meredith studied him with an intensity that seemed to evaluate not just his words but the conviction behind them.

"I'm returning to Oxford tomorrow as well," she said after a moment. "Our students are expecting lessons, and Sasha has borne the burden of teaching alone during my absence."

"Of course." Chilton nodded, masking his disappointment beneath understanding. "Your commitment to them is precisely the quality I admire."

"But," Meredith continued, a hint of something new warming her voice, "perhaps I might arrange a visit to Sutcliffe in a fortnight? To observe your progress and offer whatever insights my experience might provide."

Hope blossomed in Chilton's chest at this unexpected opening.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," he said sincerely. "Though I should warn you that Sutcliffe's amenities, while comfortable, may not match Lady Hartford's expectations for her daughter's accommodation."

"My mother's expectations and mine have rarely aligned," Meredith replied with a small smile. "I'm far more concerned with the educational facilities than the guest chambers."

"Then we shall ensure the former meet your exacting standards," Chilton promised, "while making the latter as comfortable as Sutcliffe can provide."

A comfortable silence fell between them, filled with possibilities neither was quite ready to articulate fully. After a moment, Meredith gestured toward the educational plans still open on the table.

"May I keep a copy of these?" she asked. "To study and consider before my visit?"

"They're yours," Chilton replied, pleased by her continued interest in the substance of his proposal rather than merely its romantic implications. "Though I would welcome any further refinements you might suggest."

"I shall approach them with the same critical eye I would any educational framework," Meredith assured him, her expression relaxing into something approaching playfulness—a rare quality that Chilton found particularly endearing.

"I would expect nothing less," he chuckled. "Your thoroughness is legendary."

The easy exchange felt like a promise of future conversations, a glimpse of how their partnership might function in practice—challenging yet supportive, serious in purpose yet finding joy in shared understanding.

The drawing room door opened with a barely audible creak, revealing Lady Hartford whose attempt at casual entrance failed to disguise her obvious curiosity.

"Oh! I didn't realize you were still engaged in conversation," she said with transparent insincerity. "I merely thought Lord Sutcliffe might care for refreshment after his journey."

"Most kind, Lady Hartford," Chilton replied, rising with perfect courtesy though a glance at Meredith revealed her barely suppressed amusement. "Though I fear I cannot stay much longer. Miss Martin has preparations to make for her return to Oxford tomorrow."

"Such a pity," Lady Hartford sighed, her disappointed expression suggesting she had hoped for announcements of a more definitive nature. "Though perhaps there might be opportunity for further discussion before your respective departures?"

The hopeful query drew a gentle laugh from Meredith. "Mother, please. Lord Sutcliffe and I have educational matters to resolve that require proper consideration, not hasty conclusions drawn under maternal pressure."

Chilton marvelled at her ability to acknowledge the underlying situation directly while maintaining perfect propriety.

"Indeed," he agreed, gathering the remaining papers into his portfolio. "Though I'm pleased to report that Miss Martin has agreed to visit Sutcliffe in a fortnight to observe our educational initiatives firsthand."

Lady Hartford's expression brightened considerably at this information. "Has she indeed? How wonderful. The countryside air will do you good, Meredith. You spend far too much time in that musty library."

"The library at Sutcliffe is quite extensive," Chilton observed innocently, "though perhaps less musty than Oxford's ancient collections. Miss Martin may find it useful for her educational research."

The brief exchange of glances between them contained shared amusement at Lady Hartford's transparent matchmaking, but also something deeper—a mutual understanding that whatever developed between them would proceed at its own natural pace, regardless of external expectations.

"I shall look forward to receiving you at Sutcliffe," Chilton said as he prepared to take his leave, formal words that carried personal meaning understood by both. "Your insights will be invaluable to our educational endeavours."

"And I to providing them," Meredith replied, her composed expression belied by the warmth in her eyes. "Safe journey tomorrow, my lord."

"And to you as well, Miss Martin."

As Chilton departed Lady Hartford's residence, he found himself filled with a curious mixture of anticipation and patience. The future he had proposed hung suspended between possibility and certainty—neither confirmed nor rejected but offered space to develop naturally.

It was, he reflected as his carriage began the journey back to Grosvenor Street, an appropriately measured response from a woman who valued careful consideration over impulsive decision.

That she had agreed to visit Sutcliffe at all suggested openness to the partnership he had proposed, both educational and personal.

For now, that was enough.