Page 122 of The Mistress of All & Torn

“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!”