Chapter 5
London, five months earlier
“What a bad storm! I am not sure which is worse, the wind or the snow,” Mrs Gardiner said to her husband and Elizabeth.
They were enjoying a drink after dinner, while the children had already retired for the night.
“I confess I love snow, and the wind does not trouble me so much,” Elizabeth said.
Mrs Gardiner rolled her eyes. “You like anything if it is out of doors, Lizzy. I watched you earlier, playing in the snow with the children. I was freezing just looking at you.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Nothing is better than fresh snow, and I was glad to have company.”
“Well, at least the children were so tired that they fell asleep immediately,” Mrs Gardiner concluded.
“Speaking of company, I received a rather peculiar invitation today,” Mr Gardiner interjected.
“Invitation? To what, my dear?”
“To a dinner. A party. I am not quite certain. But there is something to be celebrated.”
“Who is celebrating?” Mrs Gardiner enquired, bewildered.
“Lady Kendal. The late Lord Kendal was the patron of several trading affairs in which Mr Banfield was also involved. Mainly spices, tea, and coffee from India. They have some distant family connections too. I am not quite familiar with the relationships, as I was never interested in it before today. I only heard Mr Banfield mention her ladyship occasionally.”
“So we are invited to a lady’s celebration, although we do not know her at all? Does she know the situation of our family?”
“Of course she does. And Bingley and Jane are invited too.”
“Jane and Charles?” Elizabeth repeated. “That is considerate of her ladyship but even stranger.”
“I am as puzzled as you are,” Mr Gardiner admitted.
“It seems Lady Kendal lives with her grandson, who appears to have a serious medical condition. They have no close family. She had a son who died twenty years ago. Her daughter and son-in-law also passed away ten years ago. A life full of tragedies, I was told. She enjoys charming, well-informed people at her dinner table. And Mr Banfield thought we could be good company. He and his wife were quite charmed by Lizzy and Jane when they met them. They spoke to Lady Kendal of you, so she insisted on inviting us all. That is what he told me.”
“That is so sad to hear,” Mrs Gardiner uttered. “She seems to be attempting to fill her house with strangers to avoid loneliness.”
“Very sad. But Mr Banfield insisted we should show no sorrow and certainly no pity to either her ladyship or her grandson, Lord Alveston. I am tempted to believe she invited us precisely because our situation in life is so much below theirs,” Mr Gardiner said, still intrigued.
“I hardly know what can be said,” Elizabeth replied.
“Well, at least we know from the beginning what is expected of us...”
“Yes...to be clever and charming. And it will help to strengthen my business connection with Mr Banfield. And being acquainted with Lady Kendal might be useful too,” Mr Gardiner added.
“Well, if such is the case, any effort is worthwhile, Uncle,” Elizabeth continued, half in jest. “If I can bear Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst regularly, for the sake of Jane and Charles, I can bear anything and anyone.”
“True,” Mrs Gardiner said. “Still, this is quite a peculiar invitation.”
“Yes… But I had no reason to refuse it. Mr Banfield added that Lady Kendal is desperately concerned for her grandson’s health. He seems to suffer from the same illness that affected others in her family, and it has no cure.”
“Poor her. And him,” Mrs Gardiner whispered. “So many tragedies in one family…”
“The earl must be young still. How old is he?” Elizabeth enquired.
“I assume he is in his late twenties.”
“Dear Lord. How awful it must be. If he knows there is no cure, is he condemned to just await his fate? How can one live in such grief?”
∞∞∞
On the days between the issued invitation and the dinner party, the subject of Lady Kendal and her grandson kept the Gardiners preoccupied. Mr Gardiner brought more details about the family, which only increased their curiosity.
Lady Kendal was revealed as a person determined to share her fortune with those in need.
She owned several properties all over the country and three houses in town—inherited from her parents, her late husband, and her late brother.
She was known to run two small hospitals—where children from poor families, suffering from serious illnesses, were cared for.
Everything was paid for by her, and even the King had publicly acknowledged her generosity and commitment to charity.
Mr Gardiner added that Lady Kendal had established two schools, one for boys and one for girls, on two of her properties, to which she also provided her patronage.
“Such a generous nature is almost impossible to imagine,” Mrs Gardiner said.
“Yes. And still, it is true—and there is much more. She visited Mr Banfield at our office today. She stopped and greeted me, asking if I was Mr Gardiner. She is quite a character—an imposing one.”
“Yes, I can imagine. I look forward to meeting her. And I confess I already feel chills,” his wife concluded.
“What of her grandson, Lord Alveston? What do you know of him?”
“Mr Banfield said he is a highly educated man. He studied diligently until his early twenties and has an excellent knowledge of literature, science, and even medicine. I understand he was also very handsome. Quite a favourite with the ladies.”
“But what does his affliction entail?” Elizabeth asked.
“Of that, I did not ask. Lord Alveston has been confined to his bed—or to his chair—for several years. He must be carried by the servants. Mr Banfield does not know any more, but it could be something that runs in the family. Several of Lady Kendal’s relatives, especially on her husband’s side, died young. ”
“Oh…what a tragedy,” Mrs Gardiner replied. “And the doctors cannot discover a cure?”
“Apparently not. I heard some nasty and ridiculous rumours about the family being damned by a woman who was in love with one of Lord Kendal’s ancestors. Silly stories.”
“Truly, Uncle? That is what the titled people of London believe?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “It is no wonder then that Lady Kendal would rather have strangers at her dinner than some pretentious and foolish members of the ton.”
“I agree, my dear. If I was in her place, I would do the same.”
∞∞∞
It was still snowing, and the wind was threatening to overturn the carriage by the time the Gardiners and Elizabeth arrived at their destination.
Situated near Hyde Park, the mansion was as imposing as they expected. Candles were lit at every window but still it looked somehow dark.
The Bingley carriage arrived shortly afterwards. As they stepped out of their equipage, a third carriage stopped, bringing Mr Banfield, his wife, and his two sons.
Footmen were immediately at the door, and other servants took their coats and wraps.
Elizabeth noticed how Bingley carefully untied his wife’s bonnet, wiping some melting flakes of snow from her face. Each gesture, each glance, proved the deep love between her sister and her husband.
Eventually, they followed Mr Banfield’s lead along the wide hall until they reached the dining room.
They were invited in, and everyone’s gaze was unwillingly drawn towards a large armchair placed at the centre of the table. In it was a young man, staring at them. First, his countenance showed curiosity. Then, as soon as he met their looks, a smirk twisted his face.
Still, Elizabeth was sure she had never seen a man with more beautiful features. His eyes were bright green, glowing in a face with light skin. His blond hair fell on his nape and across his forehead. He kept his hands on the table, his fingers tapping.
“Thank you so much for coming!” Lady Kendal greeted them after Mr Banfield had performed the introductions.
They knew she was a lady in her late sixties, but she appeared significantly younger.
Still handsome, slender, and elegant, Lady Kendal seemed to fill the room.
She wore a broad, friendly smile and seemed genuinely pleased to see them.
“I deeply apologise for inviting you in such terrible weather,” she uttered. “It was inconsiderate and selfish of me!”
“I beg your ladyship not to distress herself,” Mr Banfield replied. “You could not have possibly guessed it would snow.”
“Of course not! Who could imagine that snow might fall in December?” Lord Alveston interjected sarcastically.
His mocking voice startled the party and made Lady Kendal’s face colour.
“Philip, please!” She then turned to the guests, inviting them to sit.
“We shall start dinner directly,” Lady Kendal said.
“They already know that, Grandmamma! Nobody expects me to walk around the room and entertain the party!” Lord Alveston mocked her again.
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a quick glance, then looked at their aunt. What gentleman would behave in such a despicable manner?
Each chose a place; Jane sat between her sister and her husband, obviously distressed by the atmosphere.
From where she was situated, Elizabeth faced the earl across the table, again wondering at his unusual beauty.
It was no wonder that in his early years he had been a favourite of the ladies, as Mr Gardiner had mentioned.
‘His early years’ sounded inaccurate, as he was still quite young. Very likely close to Bingley’s age.
The conversation began reluctantly, while the servants brought out the first course.
“Again, I thank you for coming, Mr Gardiner, Mrs Gardiner. Mr Banfield speaks so highly of you—and of your nieces—and I can see the praise is not undeserved,” Lady Kendal said.
“Your ladyship is very kind,” Mrs Gardiner responded. “I confess we were surprised but also honoured by the invitation.”
“I imagine you were surprised. I wonder how my grandmother tricked you into coming here tonight. Or perhaps you were curious to see the talk of the town. That would be me,” Lord Alveston interjected with the same sarcasm as before.