Page 125 of The Mistress of All & Torn

“I did not mean that you lacked beauty, not at all. You seem to possess enough wit to keep me entertained. I have never been introduced to a country gentleman’s daughter before, and I was reluctant to have dinner in company below my usual circle. I even argued with my grandmother about that. But I am glad she invited you, although I wonder about her purpose. You are not what I expected.”

Elizabeth breathed deeply. She felt Jane’s hand touching hers, trying to calm her. Jane surely noticed her growing anger. But it was too late for calming gestures.

She pasted a grin on her face and replied, “Nor have I ever been introduced to a man like you, Lord Alveston. You are not what I expected either.”

He stared at her and narrowed his bright green eyes.

“Like me, how? Crippled, dying, unable to hold his glass? Stuck to his chair, waiting to die? What did you expect? Better? Or worse?”

His voice was now cold, cutting, demanding, even spiteful. The others seemed to stop breathing. But Elizabeth leant forward, towards the earl.

“I expected a highly educated man with gentlemanlike manners towards his dinner companions, even if he despised them for their lower connections. I expected decorum and politeness. But you, sir, are rude, insensitive, haughty, and find pleasure in offending others because you are accustomed to nobody fighting back. You purposely wounded and embarrassed your grandmother, and no gentleman would ever do that. I know nothing about your illness, and it does not affect me in the slightest. What does affect us is your insolence and disrespect. I may lack beauty, but you surely lack manners. Did you ever consider that people refused to visit or dine with you not because of your illness, but because of your boorish behaviour? You may well count me among them too.”

Silver dropped onto china with a startling clatter. Elizabeth felt stunned faces upon her, but she calmly sipped her wine, then turned to meet the earl’s stare again.

He was looking at her in disbelief, his eyes and mouth wide open.

“You are not any kinder than me, Miss Bennet. That is no way to speak to a suffering man in whose house you are a guest.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I must inform you that the spirit you earlier praised often betrays me, as it tends to rise whenever I am being attacked.”

She was mocking the earl, but suddenly, the memory of her conversation with Darcy on the same subject sent thrills through her again. She sipped some more wine.

“So you have no compassion for me?” the earl asked with apparent mockery.

This time, Elizabeth stole a look at Lady Kendal and noticed a slight nod of approval. Freed from the fear she might wound her ladyship even further, she turned to the earl.

“Are you looking for compassion, Lord Alveston?”

He held her gaze, then averted his eyes. “I am not. I was only teasing you, Miss Bennet.”

“Oh, you should not do that. In the matter of teasing, no one can defeat Elizabeth. Trust me, you will soon regret sparring with her,” Bingley declared with such utter honesty that peals of laughter were heard around the table.

By the time the final course was served, the atmosphere in the dining room was lighter, more pleasant, and even friendly.

The earl did not speak much, but he paid attention to the others. He appeared lost in his own thoughts, but his brief contributions were polite. Elizabeth glanced at him whenever he was not observing her. He still did not appear comfortable, nor master of himself. He closed his eyes several times, as though the glare from the candles was bothering him. He also rubbed his temples, obviously troubled by a headache. His fingers were trembling more and more, and he moved his hands into his lap.

From time to time, a male servant—probably his valet—leant towards him and asked something, but most of the time, the earl shook his head.

After dinner was over, there was no separation between the ladies and gentlemen. Lord Alveston’s chair was moved near the sofa.

To Elizabeth’s astonishment, Lady Kendal herself brought her a cup of tea and whispered, “Thank you!”

“Thank me? I feared your ladyship would be upset by my outburst. I wish to apologise for my unforgivable rudeness. I hope Lord Alveston does not feel worse because of me.”

Lady Kendal touched her arm. “My dear… Thank you!”

Then she returned to the other guests, sitting on the sofa next to her grandson.

“Miss Bennet, Mrs Bingley, would you be so kind as to play for us?” Lady Kendal enquired.

“Oh, forgive me but I rarely play,” Jane excused herself, and all eyes turned to Elizabeth. She hesitated for a moment.

“If you wish. But I must warn you that I play very little and very ill.”

“That is not quite true,” Bingley immediately contradicted her. “She plays very well. I can testify to that.”

“My dear brother, you put me in a very delicate position. Lord Alveston will have another reason to criticise me and to make more unfavourable comparisons between me and other young ladies from town who are more beautiful and more talented,” Elizabeth declared teasingly, throwing the earl a meaningful look.