Page 144 of The Mistress of All & Torn

“You will not go anywhere without your mother or your aunt,” Mr Bennet interjected. “And I would appreciate hearing as little as possible about the officers.”

Lydia was about to complain but Mrs Gardiner skilfully calmed her. Mrs Bennet was too preoccupied with her second daughter to give any consideration to her other daughters’ wishes.

The house was indeed well situated. It had enough rooms to accommodate both the Bennets and the Gardiners, a vast library, a view of the sea, was located within walking distance of the beach, and lay only a short distance from the Bingleys’ home.

Despite the size of the house, it still felt crowded. Therefore, Elizabeth decided to stay with Lady Kendal. As propriety demanded, she invited Mary to accompany her. The third Miss Bennet felt singled out as proof of her worthiness and gladly accepted with the blessing of her parents. Besides, a carriage with a coachman was at Elizabeth’s disposal, so she and her sister could easily move from one place to another.

“Lady Kendal has invited you all to dinner the day after tomorrow. I look forward to my family meeting her and Philip, and I trust all will go well,” Elizabeth said with a meaningful glance at her uncle and aunt.

“Oh, do not worry Lizzy, we shall be on our best behaviour,” Kitty promised.

“We must thank her ladyship for all the presents. I have never received so many in my entire life,” Lydia said.

“And we must politely convince her to stop buying more,” Mr Bennet said in earnest, much to his wife and daughters’ opposition.

“Lady Kendal is generous and kind. She is pleased to see you happy. I just wish to be certain she and Lord Alveston will have a lovely evening,” Elizabeth uttered.

She was slightly worried about her sisters and mother’s comments—which were often unguarded and insensitive—but trusted her aunt and uncle to provide them with their presence to avoid any embarrassing moments.

“I would like to speak privately to Lady Kendal and Lord Alveston before dinner,” Mr Bennet said.

Elizabeth smiled at him. She had already had a long discussion with her father, trying to answer his questions and dispel his concerns.

“We know, Papa. They will be waiting for you.”

∞∞∞

Brighton, the sun, the beach, and the sea brought Elizabeth much joy and a welcomed peace.

Lady Kendal’s property was quite far from the popular places, secluded as it was at the end of town. Still, it was close enough to the main road, therefore easy to reach by carriage or by horse.

The cottage was surrounded by a grove of trees and greenery that offered protection against intense heat and curious gazes, whilst still allowing stunning sea views.

The house was mainly hidden from both the main road and the beach. With so many in her family having experienced suffering over the years, Lady Kendal had always valued her privacy more than anything. For her, Brighton was not a place for entertainment but for treatment and healing.

At the back of the property, a private path led to the beach. Two bathing machines rested on the seashore. On the pebbly beach, two large white parasols—like small tents—provided shade for two tables, each with several chairs. Everything for the perfect convenience of the family.

The house was smaller than Lady Kendal’s other mansions. Lady Kendal and Lord Alveston’s large bedrooms were on the ground floor. On the first floor there were four guest rooms, two of which were occupied by Elizabeth and Mary.

Elizabeth and Mary did not miss the animation of the noisy town centre streets. Mary was pleased to find a pianoforte and a reasonable collection of books. Without the competition of her prettier and more boisterous sisters she slowly overcame her shyness and within two days had become at ease with both Lady Kendal and Lord Alveston.

For Elizabeth, the solitude and the silence were a blessing. As soon as she was able after her arrival she hurried to the beach, took off her shoes, and stepped into the sea, her ankles and petticoat washed by the gentle waves.

Philip’s health seemed to immediately improve in Brighton. On the day of their arrival, he was visited by Dr Clarke—a local physician who had been acquainted with the family for ten years. Dr Clarke was the great grandnephew of the famous Dr Richard Russell, the first exponent of sea bathing for one’s health.

After a short examination, Dr Clarke recommended Philip a strict schedule of treatments with seawater and herbs to begin immediately.

Early in the morning, Lord Alveston was brought to the water’s edge, where they all had breakfast under the welcome breeze and temperate sunshine. Later, when it became warmer, he was carried to the machine to take a long dip in the sea. During this time, his valet and another servant assisted him, so Elizabeth barely saw him before noon, when he returned to the house and then rested in his chamber for several hours. In the afternoon, tea was also served on the beach, and the same ritual of sea bathing followed, then he slept again before dinner.

The first two days passed with nothing to disturb them.

Elizabeth and Mary visited their family every day. It was only a quarter of an hour carriage ride away. The difference between the silence of their cottage and the tumult of the Bennets’ house was striking, and Elizabeth wondered where she felt more at home. Her own preferences seemed to have changed lately, but she was content to see her family so happy.

“Lizzy, we have seen Mr Bingley’s house too, but I believe ours is more beautiful. This is truly the best holiday one can imagine. I have already written to Maria Lucas. I am sure she will be so envious!” Kitty said.

“And last evening we went for a walk. There were so many people, and we saw some officers too,” Lydia interjected. “We do not know anybody but it was only the first evening. I am sure we shall become acquainted with everybody soon! Oh, if only there would be some parties and balls too, my life would be perfect.”

“I am not certain about balls and parties, but we shall have a pleasant dinner together tomorrow evening,” Elizabeth reassured them.