Happier in her Friends than Relations Read online

  ***

  Elizabeth’s first few days in London were full and refreshing, orchestrated by her aunt with the purpose of keeping her mind off of that which she had left behind in Hertfordshire. In addition to daily walks with her aunt and cousins, Elizabeth enjoyed several shopping trips, and morning calls to her aunt and uncle’s wide circle of acquaintances.

  Foremost among these was Mrs. Carmichael, Mrs. Gardiner’s younger half-sister, who had married exceedingly well and now enjoyed a comfortable widowhood in Mayfair. She had given her late husband an heir and a spare, and her sons were of an age to play well with their three rambunctious Gardiner cousins. Without a natural daughter of her own, Mrs. Carmichael was content to dote upon her late husband’s daughter from his first marriage, who was embarking on her first season out in society.

  Mrs. Carmichael and Mrs. Gardiner were gratified to unite their young ladies one morning, almost a week into Elizabeth’s visit. It had been some years since they last met, and Elizabeth recalled Emily Carmichael as being much like her own younger sisters at thirteen. Now seventeen, Miss Carmichael’s exuberance had been tempered with just enough grace and decorum to make her a very agreeable companion for Elizabeth, who found herself perfectly at ease with the young lady’s overtures of friendship. Ten minutes into the visit, they had agreed that as they were nearly cousins themselves, they might dispense with formality and use one another’s Christian names.

  “Do tell me you shall be in attendance at the Banfields’ ball tomorrow,” Emily entreated, glancing at her distracted stepmother as she snuck another lemon tart from the tea tray.

  “I daresay I could not avoid it, even if I wished to. You see, I have heard my aunt’s recital of the innumerable single gentlemen likely to be in attendance, and I am to understand my absence would result in at least half of them pining over the loss of a penniless country girl with negligible accomplishments to recommend her.”

  Emily gaped at her for a moment, before she broke into a toothy, genuine smile. “Oh, Lizzy, you are very droll! But pray, you mustn’t speak so unkindly of yourself.”

  “You are probably right; I suppose there are only too many ladies I have yet to meet who will be quite willing to do it for me.” Despite the mirth in Elizabeth’s eyes, her companion frowned.

  “Oh dear, I had not thought of that. I know the ladies of the ton can be rather cutting. I confess it is a terrifying prospect. My mother has such high hopes for my first season, but I fear I shall be laughed out of the first ballroom I set foot in.” She wrung her hands in her lap, giving Elizabeth a beseeching look.

  Elizabeth felt a stab of guilt at Emily’s reaction to her quip, and had to remind herself that her new friend was not used to her own manner of teasing. “Dearest Emily, I beg you would not give my foolish jest more credit than it deserves. It is merely my nature to make such observations for my own amusement, but I never intend any harm by it. If I have alarmed you, I am truly sorry.” Emily nodded shyly, and Elizabeth was relieved by how easily her apology had been accepted. “And for what it’s worth,” Elizabeth added, “I think you will do wonderfully. You shall have me by your side at the Twelfth Night ball tomorrow, and we shall face the world down together.”

  Miss Carmichael’s smile returned, rendering her face almost pretty. “It is to be such a fine affair. The Banfields know everyone.”

  Elizabeth tipped her chin up in a mock display of haughtiness. “Fear not, Emily. There is a stubbornness about me that can never bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me. I shall teach you all about it, and then we shall both be quite invincible. Now, tell me about the gown you shall wear…”

  Having succeeded in putting her new friend at ease, Elizabeth steered the discussion of the ball in a safer direction. She was pleased to continue the rest of the visit in an animated conversation with Emily, with occasional interjections from Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Carmichael, who had just as much to say on the subject. Elizabeth found much to look forward to in Emily Carmichael’s companionship, for she conversed easily and expressed herself well, and shared Elizabeth’s enthusiasm for all the entertainments a season in London promised.

  ***

  Mr. Gardiner had a great deal to say about his former colleague, Sir Bertrand Banfield, on the eve of the ball. In his anticipation of the grand event, Elizabeth thought his relation to her mother more evident than ever before. While her mother’s prattle tended to revolve around lace and fripperies, eligible men, and the superiority of her own daughters to those of her friends and neighbors, Mr. Gardiner’s effusions were expressed in the form of his delight with his hosts, the grandeur of their home, and all of the expected guests. Throughout their simple family dinner he expounded at length over the probable deliciousness of the meal to be expected tomorrow, the excellence of every dish he had ever had at Banfield House, the extravagance of the cakes and pastries they might enjoy, and the vastly superior taste of Lady Helen.

  Sir Bertrand was too good a friend to be given any credit whatsoever, for such was their relationship that each of them was prone to tease and vex the other. And yet Elizabeth supposed there must be a real brotherly affection between the former associates, and was eager to see them in action together. She imagined Sir Bertrand as a younger, richer version of her father—jovial and witty, but benign and loyal, with kind eyes, a droll smile, and eccentrically wispy hair. As her uncle reminisced at length about his previous exploits with Sir Bertrand back in Scarborough, he spoke somewhat of his former mentor, Benjamin Bingley. “Such a good man, he was. Like a father to me, and an absolute genius besides,” Mr. Gardiner exclaimed into his wine glass, to the amusement of his wife and niece. “And by the by, Madeline, you shall never guess who I saw at Milner’s yesterday—little Charlie!”

  Mrs. Gardiner arched an eyebrow. “‘Little Charlie’ is quite grown up now, my dear.”

  “Indeed,” Mr. Gardiner rejoined. “Now, let me tell you, Lizzy—for your aunt already knows, and I daresay she must find it all terribly boring now, but let me tell you about little Charlie.” Though not quite in his cups, her uncle had grown quite animated as he began to discuss his formative years, before he had come to London to establish his own successful business.

  He had first gone to work for old Mr. Bingley at the age of sixteen, and at that time had met Mr. Banfield as well. Mr. Bingley was an affable sort of man, kind and generous despite his shrewd business acumen. His house was often open to the clerks from his warehouses, and as Mr. Gardiner had quickly climbed their ranks, he became a frequent guest in the Bingleys’ modest home. The Bingley children were quite young then, still in the nursery, but as he was kind to them, they quickly became fond of him.

  “As with you girls,” he told Elizabeth, “I became sort of an elder brother figure to them, which was rather a novelty for me, being the youngest child in my own family. I took quite a fancy to the role, and would always have sweets and little trinkets for them when I came to visit. For some folks, it might have seemed as though I was trying to ingratiate myself with my employer, but he could see this was not the case. I had recently become an uncle, and was not yet sure how to act around you and Jane on the rare occasions I came to visit, so this was a manner of practice for me, and old Mr. Bingley found it rather diverting. Why, I recall one afternoon, when Banfield and I came for supper, and little Caroline—that’s Charlie’s twin sister—had her favorite doll stolen by Louisa, the elder sister, and she pitched such a fit that I would swear they must have heard her all the way down at the docks! The two of them got to brawling right there in the dining room. There was so much hair-pulling and shrieking, I thought I should have to flee the house, it was all in uproar.”

  Mr. Gardiner guffawed loudly, his eyes misting over at the recollection. “And poor Charlie, ever the little gentleman, was trying so hard to intervene, though he was nearly a casualty of the fray himself. All the while Mrs. Bingley was squawking louder than anything. She was always a bit of a
scold, and particularly hard on the girls. Perhaps that is why they turned out so formidable themselves.”

  Elizabeth urged her uncle to go on, for she found the subject of her uncle’s youth vastly diverting.

  “Well, they were all three almost grown up by the time Mr. Bingley expanded the business to London, some ten years ago. Charlie and the girls went off to school, though Charlie would often include a little note for me when he wrote his parents. He was always looked up to Banfield and me, though I suspect I was his favorite, for I was just a few years closer in age. When he would come home for visits, he always had some great boast to share, for as much as he wanted to make his father proud, I daresay he wanted to impress me, too. Of course, having never had a gentleman’s education myself, it did not take much. By the time his father passed, not long after I married, he finally started seeing me as more of an equal, and though we do not meet so often any more, I daresay we are very fond of one another.”

  “And what of his sisters?”

  Mr. Gardiner laughed. “Oh my, I have not seen the superior sisters in many years. You must understand, when I first came to work for old Ben Bingley, he was a modest tradesman, and yet they grew so rich so quickly that under the guidance of their mother, their humble beginnings were soon forgotten. Though Charlie retained much of his father’s happy manners, his sisters grew very proud by the time they finished school.”

  “Louisa,” he chortled, nudging his wife with his elbow, “the elder sister, once had a tendre for your uncle, Lizzy, when she first had her coming out—but thank the Lord her mother soon put paid to that! She married a few years ago, I believe. Caroline, Charlie’s twin, is by all accounts still single. She and her brother reside here in London for the most part, though I hear the pair of them are often travelling to some county or other for house parties and the like. They have done rather well in society, just as their mother wished. Now if only the man would settle down somewhere and take an estate, for that was his father’s dearest wish, and God knows he can certainly afford it!”

  Elizabeth grinned. “Perhaps he ought to take Netherfield, for I daresay Mamma would be delighted to have a rich bachelor in the neighborhood, particularly one already acquainted with our family, as it would give her quite the advantage to lord over Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long!”

  Her uncle stammered and glanced at his wife, who gave him a stern look, to which he responded with a little shrug. Elizabeth stared at them expectantly for a moment. “Oh dear. I think I understand. Might he be the very same gentleman from the north who very nearly let Netherfield three months past?”

  It was her aunt who answered, as her uncle could only give a sheepish scowl. “Mr. Bingley spoke of his desire to let an estate when last we met, this past summer. Your uncle mentioned that he knew of an estate in Hertfordshire, and Mr. Bingley seemed quite pleased by its proximity to London, as well as our description of the place. We thought it would be a wonderful surprise for you all to have such a neighbor as Mr. Bingley, and we were most shocked when we learned that he never went through with the plan. By then your mother was so disappointed, we could not bring ourselves to own to being partially responsible for it.”

  Elizabeth could scarcely conceal her astonishment as she recalled her mother’s lamentations over the matter, and later Jane’s words hurled in anger at her. “How very unfortunate,” she said flatly. “Jane was meant to marry the gentleman who settled there, Mamma was quite sure of it. And then she would not have had to wed Mr. Collins, leaving him available for me.”

  Her aunt drew back in surprise, but her uncle roared with laughter, even as Elizabeth succumbed to the hilarity herself. Mr. Gardiner patted his wife’s hand reassuringly as he rounded back at his niece, “‘Tis kind of you, Lizzy, to think of your sister, but if Charlie had gone to Netherfield at Michaelmas, you would not have the pleasure of dancing with him at the ball tomorrow night.”

  “Oho! All this time and now you come to the point,” Mrs. Gardiner cried. “You might have mentioned this above an hour ago, you teasing man.”

  “What, and deprive you both of the pleasure of my youthful anecdotes? No indeed, my dear. I fear you have no notion of how to set up such a juicy bit of news, none at all.”

  Elizabeth’s curiosity redoubled. Afraid of revealing too much of her own thoughts, she tried to ask in as disinterested a fashion as possible whether Mr. Bingley was quite certain to be in attendance.

  “Indeed he is,” her uncle said, “And you do not fool me for a minute, young lady. I see what you are about, and next you will be asking me if he is handsome or if he likes to dance. Aha, and now you blush and look away, for you do not wish to own it. How quickly she goes from wanting him for her sister to an entirely different scheme.” He winked at his wife, and took a sip of wine as if to punctuate his point.

  “Pish posh,” her aunt chided. ”You can hardly suggest she dance with the man if you are not going to tell her anything beyond his behavior as a child.”

  “Indeed,” Elizabeth agreed, having overcome her embarrassment. “I must be allowed to make an informed decision on the matter, and your determination to be mysterious amuses no one but yourself.”

  “Very well, I surrender,” he uncle laughed, holding his hands up. “It seems I am quite outnumbered, and must give in to your demands. Indeed, I must own I fully expect you to be very well pleased with him.”

  Her uncle paused, unsure what more to say, and Elizabeth looked to her aunt. “I quite agree,” Mrs. Gardiner added. “I have always been fond of Mr. Bingley, though we do not see him as often as I would wish.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms and gave her aunt an arch look, not yet satisfied. “And? What is it about him that shall have me so well pleased? I must beg you end my suspense, else I may work myself into such as state as I may not recover from in time for the ball tomorrow. Perchance, have you a handkerchief I might flutter about, that I may express my dismay?”

  Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “Mr. Bingley is just what a young gentleman ought to be—sensible, good humored, lively, and with such happy manners that I daresay you will be quite smitten when you meet him.”

  “I might be,” replied Elizabeth, “If he is all this, and also handsome, which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. I can see you mean to suggest that he is, and I must believe you for now, until I am able to judge for myself tomorrow. His character will then be complete.”

  “Well, Lizzy,” her aunt replied with satisfaction as they rose from the dinner table, “He is certainly agreeable, and I give you leave to like him, which I believe you shall, for you have liked many a stupider person.”

  Elizabeth could only gasp with feigned indignation at her aunt’s jest, for Mrs. Gardiner quickly swept from the room before her niece could reply.

  2

  Elizabeth shivered against the evening chill, and drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders as the footman handed her down from the Carmichaels’ carriage. Lydia and Kitty no doubt would have gushed the whole way there about arriving in such a stylish equipage, but Elizabeth was simply pleased to reach her destination in the company of a friend as overcome by the general splendor as she herself was.

  While the Gardiners and Mrs. Carmichael appeared unperturbed by their environs as they led the young ladies into the large candlelit foyer, Elizabeth could sense that Emily shared her anxiety as they navigated the throng of people already assembled in the large entryway. Dozens of voices carried across the opulent marble floor as other guests moved about the space, greeting friends and watching the new arrivals.

  Emily drew in a shaky breath. “Oh Lizzy, there are so many people here.” She tightened her grip on Elizabeth’s arm as they moved closer to the receiving line.

  Greetings were exchanged, the Banfields were found to be every bit as delightful as Elizabeth had expected, and then they were on the move again. Led by an energetic Mr. Gardiner, they passed into the ballroom and Elizabeth was enthralled all over again. The ballroom was nearly twice the size of the a
ssembly rooms in Meryton. Ornate chandeliers with glimmering crystals hung from the vaulted frescoed ceiling. At the back of the ballroom, the largest fireplace Elizabeth had ever seen was lit with a roaring fire, burning the last of the holiday garlands and greens, as was the custom, to avoid bad luck. To one side of the fireplace, a pair of gilded golden chairs had been set on a platform, thrones for the king and queen of the night. To the other side, a larger platform had been erected for the musicians. All around the room, gauzy gold and silver fabric had been draped over the tapestries, shimmering in the light of what seemed like a thousand candles. The fabric pooled along the floor at intervals, and along the wall in corners of the room, downy white fluff had been strewn about to give the illusion of snow.

  Beyond the ballroom were several parlors, the doors thrown open and attended by footmen in immaculate livery. A crowd had already gathered in what appeared to be the ladies’ retiring room, and beyond that smoke curled out of the doorway of what Elizabeth imagined must be the gentlemens’ card room. In between those was a larger parlor, through which she could spy two large wooden trunks thrown open and overflowing with colorful costumes, which several guests had begun to curiously inspect. On the other side of the ballroom, the entrance to the dining room was dominated by a sideboard laden with decorative crystal punch bowls full of wassail and elaborate pastries topped with intricate spun sugar designs.

  Though Elizabeth had left her uncle’s house feeling tremendously confident in the new gown her aunt had ordered especially for this night, she now felt her self-assurance falter in the presence of so much wealth and finery, as if it was evident to everyone in the room that this was the nicest gown she had ever owned. The emerald silk clung to her curves, and the silver mesh overlay of the skirts caught the light as the fabric flowed about her with each movement she made. Her deep chestnut curls had been tamed and arranged very fashionably, augmented by her aunt’s diamond hair pins. Her soft silver cashmere shawl, detailed with deep red and blue flowers and trimmed with silver beading, completed the outfit, along with dark blue dancing slippers that peeked out from her dress as she stepped through the crowd.