They all knew of Almack’s, as most of England did, but it remained exciting to discuss a place where they themselves might now be admitted.
“A place not so different from any ballroom in the country, except that people make a far greater fuss about it,” Uncle Thomas observed, with a hint of amusement that only Elizabeth seemed to notice.
They had heard stories of Almack’s for years, but never imagined coming so close to its famous Wednesday assemblies.
Beau Brummell, Madame Clotilde, Almack’s, Brooks’s at sixty St James’s Street; all belonged to a world entirely inaccessible to them only a few months earlier. Elizabeth was grateful for her uncle’s efforts, though she did not consider that part of the fortune the most valuable. She was happy that her family had a secure home and pleased by the dowry he had settled upon them. Still, she had no intention of losing herself in a succession of parties and visits. She enjoyed the theatre and the opera, not for the sake of being seen, but for the pleasure of the performance itself. She would certainly require a suitable wardrobe. Otherwise, she hoped to continue living much as she had at Longbourn: enjoying meaningful conversations with her father and now her uncle, reading, walking, and seeking out interesting company. In a city as vast as London, there must surely be people interested in more than fashion, Almack’s, and gossip.
“You will all gain something from London,” Uncle Thomas said, “and I hope each of you will enjoy its entertainments.”
Elizabeth nodded. It was indeed pleasant to discover a new society, though she still entertained doubts about being accepted. Whether the duchess’s influence would prove sufficient remained to be seen.
“One evening this week we shall attend the Haymarket Theatre,” Uncle Thomas continued, “and next Wednesday we have been invited to dine with Mr Darcy.”
He spoke as neutrally as possible, though Elizabeth detected a trace of amusement. He understood very well what might develop between the young gentlemen and appeared far too interested in observing it.
“And who is Mr Darcy, sir, if I may ask?”
Thomas waited for Elizabeth to answer, but she devoted herself entirely to her breakfast and seemed determined to remain silent.
“He is a friend of Miss Bennet,” Thomas replied, “and lately a friend of mine as well.”
Elizabeth was surprised by the declaration. Most likely, her uncle had spent some time in Mr Darcy’s company after their journey to London two weeks earlier.
“He is the grandson of the late Earl of Matlock,” Thomas continued, this time addressing the duchess. “Do you know the family?”
“Yes, I know them by name, but during the last twenty years, I have seen very few people beyond a small circle of close friends. People of my age attend no balls.”
“Such a pity, your grace,” Lydia said. But her words lacked their usual tone. Respect and admiration were evident in her manner, and the old lady smiled.
“My dear, some activities are suited only to the young.”
Elizabeth was relieved. From what her uncle had told her, the duchess’s role was to introduce them into London society, yet it seemed she herself had lived rather secluded from it.
“But as your uncle wishes you to be introduced into London society, we shall find some agreeable families to meet and some balls to attend.”
“And the theatre, perhaps, your grace,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, of course, my dear. At this time of year, London is rather deserted, as everybody prefers the country to the heat of the city. Still, I think we shall find some places to visit, and some plays worth seeing.”
“Do you like balls, Mr Kendall?” Mrs Bennet asked, and even she seemed changed.
The young gentleman hesitated, and his grandmother smiled.
“Do not hesitate to tell the truth, dear grandson.”
Only then did Andrew Kendall answer, somewhat embarrassed. “I am sorry, Mrs Bennet, but I do not much like balls.”
“Oh, what a pity. I am sure London could change your mind!” Lydia spoke, and once again Elizabeth was astonished by her behaviour. Restrained yet friendly, it differed greatly from her usual habit of speaking whatever came into her head. It suggested that the education they had all received at home had not been entirely wasted upon Lydia after all.
“And what do you like to do, Mr Kendall?” Elizabeth asked with genuine curiosity. A young gentleman who did not enjoy balls interested her. “Perhaps the theatre?”
But it was immediately apparent that the theatre was not amongst his favourite amusements either.
“Ayr is very small compared with London. I believe there are neighbourhoods here larger than my entire town. We led a very simple life, Miss Bennet. Unfortunately, my mother died many years ago.” He hesitated and glanced anxiously towards his grandmother, who was struggling to keep tears from falling.
“My dear,” said the old lady, “do not look at me in that way. It is as painful for you to speak of your dear mother as it is for me to hear of her, but I enjoy learning about her as much as you can bear to tell me. Never doubt that.”
It was a peculiar situation. They were strangers, yet Thomas Bennet had brought them together almost as if they were one family. The duchess’s house now belonged to the Bennets in all but name, and Uncle Thomas had made no secret of his intention to place the house and the duchess’s other properties in her father’s possession. Elizabeth felt sorry for Andrew Kendall, who found himself at the centre of such an unusual arrangement. Yet he carried himself remarkably well. Tactful and friendly, he had conquered everybody in the house.Even Elizabeth regarded him with a certain sympathy, though the moonlit garden had certainly contributed to that favourable impression. Yet she decided, for once, to be more attentive and form an impression only after more than a few sporadic interactions, rather than as she had done in the past.
