Chapter 28
“It is late, but please join us for one last drink,” Thomas invited Mr and Mrs Bennet when they arrived home. “We want to share the whole story.”
It was the first time that Mr and Mrs Bennet had entered the duchess’s apartment and her elegant parlour. Mrs Bennet cast a glance around, wondering how many apartments there might be in that enormous house.
“Please sit,” said the duchess, her countenance far from peaceful.
“My dears,” Thomas began, “we are sorry to spoil what has been a marvellous evening with an unpleasant story, but it cannot be postponed.” Seeing the concern growing upon their faces, he added hastily, “It does not concern any of our young ladies!”
“It concerns Mr Kendall,” said the duchess, her voice sinking almost to a whisper, as though she feared they might be overheard.
“Let me tell them. Please, my dear!”
The Bennets already knew part of the story, as Thomas had hurriedly shared the news whilst they were alone upon the terrace.
“He is not your grandson,” Mrs Bennet said impatiently, whilst Mr Bennet attempted to calm her agitation in the face of the duchess’s evident distress.
Thomas nodded. “Yes, unfortunately, he is not. I had no suspicions at first, yet wishing to avoid future problems or dangers, I sent my man to Scotland to learn more about Henrietta’s family and her grandson.
Then, living with him, my doubts gradually increased.
Even though Sophia died many years ago, she had ten years in which to raise a different sort of man—a gentleman.
Kendall knows a great deal, yet he remains a common man.
Even Sophia’s husband came from a prosperous trading family; he was educated and received into higher circles, where he met Sophia.
Unfortunately, my doubts grew with every passing day, though I could do nothing until proof arrived.
Yesterday, Mr Haskett finally returned from Scotland.
The news is bad, yet there is also a silver lining. ”
“He is not my grandson,” said the duchess, a trace of sadness in her voice. “I wished so much to see Sophia, or at least one of her children, that I was prepared to believe anything.”
“So who is he?” Mrs Bennet asked, displaying her well-known appetite for extraordinary stories.
“He is the son of a tradesman, and that part was true. His mother died ten years ago, but she was not Sophia,” Thomas replied, watching his wife’s beautiful smile appear.
“As Henrietta told you, we are sad to lose someone we believed to be a grandson, yet we hope that Sophia is not dead after all. My man discovered that the Kendalls left Scotland twenty years ago and settled in New York. A tradesman purchased the house from Sophia’s husband.
We even possess an address, as Sophia asked the new owner to forward her correspondence before she departed. ”
“Andrew is the son of that family, and he used what he knew about the people who lived before in their house,” Mrs Bennet said.
“Yes, dear,” said the duchess. “I see now where your daughters acquired their shrewdness.” There was genuine admiration in her voice, and Mrs Bennet blushed with pleasure.
“My man located his family and, without exposing Andrew before his father, asked for information regarding Sophia and her family. In the end, we do not believe him to be a scoundrel, even though he intended to deceive us. I suspect he intercepted the duchess’s letters over the years instead of forwarding them to New York.
It was probably the long-cherished scheme of a child who wished to escape a home where he was unhappy amongst his father’s second family.
Yet he never dared come here whilst the duke was alive. ”
“He attempted to tell me the truth two days ago, but I interrupted him, and afterwards he lacked the courage to continue,” said the duchess.
“The fortunate part is that we now possess Sophia’s last address in New York and have firmly resolved to find her or her family.
Strangely enough, I never doubted Andrew, yet my heart always told me that Sophia was not dead. ”
“And Andrew? What will happen to him?” Mr Bennet wished to know.
“We shall speak with him in the morning. He cannot remain here as though he were the duchess’s grandson, yet we have reached no decision as yet.
We intend to make him repent, and the story will remain buried amongst ourselves.
Much depends upon his attitude once he learns that we know the truth.
Next year we are leaving London for Luton, and the story, whether revealed or concealed, will eventually fade away. ”
“You are very kind,” said Mr Bennet. “Are you certain that he will not damage your reputation in any way?”
“We are not certain, yet we hope that he will accept a fair arrangement if one is offered. Still, the matter has produced a favourable consequence. I discussed with Mr Haskett the possibility of travelling to New York, and he is prepared to leave tomorrow.”
“My dear!” whispered the duchess, still scarcely believing it. “Are you telling me that he is leaving for America?”
“Yes, and I hope that we shall find Sophia or her children.”
“Poor Mr Haskett,” said Mr Bennet with considerable compassion, imagining a gentleman who had only just returned from Scotland being obliged to depart again for so distant a destination.
“Speak for yourself, dear nephew. Some people are made for adventure.”
It was agreed that the story would go no further than that room, and the Bennets left Thomas and the duchess and retired to their own chambers.
∞∞∞
Thomas sipped the last drop of brandy, looking at his wife.
After his family’s tragedy, he had never imagined that peace would find him again.
Yet the duke’s death had set in motion a torrent of events that brought him to that privileged place beside the woman he had once believed lost to him, only to see her rise like a phoenix from the ashes of the past. He had not known that he still loved her, but the moment he saw her again, some months earlier, he understood that their love had never died.
“My love,” she said, “I think that from time to time life gives us gifts wrapped in strange paper. In our case, Andrew is that strange paper. Perhaps without him, we would never have found Sophia; he is an instrument of destiny.”
“You are fond of the boy!” Thomas said with a hint of reproach.
“Yes. For the first time in thirty years, I felt closer to my daughter.”
“But he lied to us. He wished to marry Elizabeth and become part of our family forever, despite the deception. Perhaps he even had thoughts of the money.”
“Yes, it is possible, but when he decided to come to London, he knew the situation. My letters to Sophia contained the truth. Our fortune was gone, and I was living at your mercy.”
Thomas kissed her hand, and a shadow of a smile appeared upon his face.
“I detect a small falsehood here, Your Grace. From the beginning, you knew that I intended to marry you.”
“Yes, but I wanted Sophia to have a realistic picture of the situation. I did not wish to embellish it, and yet Andrew still chose to come.”
∞∞∞
“I did not want to deceive you. I am sorry,” Andrew Kendall said the following day when the duchess and Thomas asked him to join them in their parlour. He knew that his deception had been discovered, and he entered with his eyes fixed firmly upon the floor.
“Sit, please sit,” said the duchess kindly.
“And yet deception is exactly what you practised, young man!” Andrew’s repentance did not convince Thomas in the least. “An apology will not compensate for the pain you caused the duchess. She received you as the son of her long-lost daughter, and in return, you fed her nothing but lies. The cruellest of them was the claim that her daughter was dead. Mrs Kendall may very well still be alive.”
Andrew nodded, and the sadness in his eyes was plain to see. Then he made a most unexpected move. He sprang to his feet and knelt before the duchess.
“You may kill me, madam. In other times, perhaps you would have done so.”
Yet instead of provoking her anger, the gesture softened her. She invited him to rise and then embraced him.
“What is your real name, Andrew?”
“Andrew Stevenson, madam.”
The duchess noticed the glimmer of amusement in her husband’s eyes.
“You were remarkably clever. You told only the lies that were necessary and concealed most of your real story.”
“Yes, sir. Apart from claiming that Mrs Kendall was dead and that I was her son, everything else was true.”
“Clever boy!” Thomas exclaimed. “That is why I did not discover the deception sooner. The stories themselves were true.”
“Yes. My father never intended to send those letters to America. I was six or seven when I found the first of your letters in the wooden box. Paper is precious and rarely used to light a fire, so I kept it. I learned to read because of that letter. From then on, you became my family. In our world, people do not show much affection to their children, and after my mother’s death, I was even more alone.
You became my family. I knew everything about you, as you recounted your lives in every letter.
Please allow me to remain with you as a footman or a groom.
Let me stay here. I am willing to do anything. ”
The duchess looked once more at her husband, seeking approval for what she had in mind. No words were necessary between them.
“You wished to marry Miss Bennet. That is quite a descent,” Thomas observed, though the anger and anxiety had left his voice.
Again, Andrew lowered his eyes to the floor.
“Yes. In that way, I could have remained here forever, but afterwards, I would have told you the truth about Mrs Kendall being alive. Please believe me.”
“That is rather difficult to believe, but why Miss Bennet?”
“Because I lost my head. I felt as though I truly were her grace’s grandson, and for a duchess’s grandson, only Miss Bennet seemed suitable. In truth, I liked Miss Kitty.”
“And if you had been Andrew Stevenson, would you have courted her?”
“Yes!” he said, still avoiding the gaze of the older couple, who were trying very hard to appear severe.