Lady Aubrey Kingston was, on the surface, everything a lady should be. However, beneath her porcelain skin was a female as conceited and vindictive as she was wealthy. The Kingstons’ sprawling estate, Pembina, was located not far from the dominion’s capital of Ottawa. Aubrey awoke in her bedroom, where outside, the snow fell lightly that bright December morning of 1913. In her morning frock, Aubrey descended the grand staircase.
Morning prayer was usually in the chapel, but, because it was winter, everyone gathered in the main hall. Her grandfather, Emmett Kingston, was speaking quietly to the butler. Llewellyn was refined and tall. He had toned shoulders and silver-grey hair. He wore his gentleman’s black attire to distinguish himself from the full-liveried footmen. Dismissed, the numerous servants made for the green baize door.
“Did you sleep well, sweet pea?” said Emmett with his Bible in his hand. The second question was invariably, “What was morning prayer about?”
“God,” Aubrey and Emmett said in unison.
Emmett answered his own question, given he was the only one who could. “God only gives his biggest battles to his strongest soldiers.” A retired Admiral from His Majesty’s Navy, he was forever speaking in terms of warfare. Emmett continued, “The biggest battles usually mean suffering, though one should be honoured Our Lord thinks so much of one’s character. These men are mocked, jeered, humiliated, and scorned as the evil one attacks from all sides. Stripped of all integrity, dignity, and pride, their character remains. And although the most horrid thing the devil has ever done is convince the world he does not exist, and bear in mind he will always encourage a man when acting wrongly, he will never attack more than at two distinct times. The first: when acting righteously. This is why the strongest are given the greatest battles, for only they can survive the full force of the devil. The second is when a man attempts to abandon the evil one’s side, that is to say, by becoming a good or far better person. There is no greater show on earth than this one. God will even wage war for one. And at times the force the man is facing is so extensive that He sends His Angels to aid in the struggle. For in a battle against good and evil, character will always prevail, even in warfare.”
“How does He choose these people?” Aubrey asked.
“There are two types of males in this world: gentlemen and cowards. And birth, money, titles, or land have nothing to do with either. A man only reveals his integrity, or a country its character, under duress — particularly when he is about to die.”
“A gentleman will stand and fight, will go towards a battle and offer his services. A gentleman does not retreat. There is nothing a gentleman abhors more than surrendering.”
“What of those who stand in neutrality?” asked Aubrey.
A great scholar, Emmett recited a passage from one of his favourite novels, Dante’s Inferno. “‘The darkest place in Hell is reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis.’ And these people, sweet pea, are cowards.”
“But why are there battles at all?”
“All I can say to that is because the devil exists. But, it matters not to a gentleman the predicament; he will do what is right until the end. You do not always know who the real gentlemen are, and they are usually the most unsuspecting—”
“And there are so few of them here stuck in the backwaters of the—”
“In this part of the Kingdom, doing the right thing of one’s own volition makes all the difference to these colonials, and you ought to commend them for that.”
Their neighbours, the Laurentiens, were hosting their annual and famed Christmas Eve ball the following evening. Because she was seventeen, Aubrey was permitted to attend the dinner but not the ball. A young lady was not permitted to attend balls or dinner parties until she came of age. Aubrey had grown up with the twelve Laurentien children and the two families regarded one another as family. Emmett made the exception for her to attend the greatest of all Edwardian shows: the dinner party.
“Why can’t I attend the ball?” said she.
“Violent delights often have violent ends. No balls until you come of age,” was her grandfather’s stern reply.
“What if an English gentleman, a man like Peter, for instance, is without a partner and I could dance with him?” Since a girl’s chief objective in life was to make herself a wife, Aubrey had good reason to attend the ball.
“He might be English, but he is no gentleman.”
“But what do you mean?” she cried.
“A gentleman leads solely from the front, for one. Another mark of a gentleman, or a gentlewoman, is he will remain calm when he knows the battle is lost. He will not show the devil fear even in the worst circumstances. The devil flourishes off fear. As well, a gentleman will not allow himself to be indebted to another in character.”
“But you must want me to marry an aristocrat?”
“Of course, no one else would do for my little girl. But when the time would come to have a proper conversation for Peter’s gentleman’s agreement to take care of you, I would not have it from him.”
“But he is one of the finest gentlemen here!” Aubrey contradicted.
The Edwards were one of the most ancient families in England.
“A man has to be a gentleman to enter into such a contract,” Emmett explained. “Bound by personal honour, a gentleman’s word is more important than anything else. A verbal agreement by two gentlemen, or a gentleman’s agreement, is not binding legally, and is certainly unnecessarily so, but is far more important than a legal document could be. A gentleman will honour his word until the very end. Besides, you want a man who will go after you, who will be faithful to you, who will fight for you. Peter will not do as such. No more talk of this until you come of age. Besides, why go to the ball if no man will look at you because you are still a child?” Emmett finished, “Sweet pea, be proud you’re English and remember, valour comes first.” They entered the breakfast room to his newspaper, her lukewarm tea, and to the aromas of their breakfast, of which the third course was her favourite part.
Later in the day, Aubrey was near Emmett’s study and heard a conversation through the door that was slightly ajar. Emmett and his fellow Sons of England members were enjoying their brandy.
“Another meeting with the Richardieux,” said Sir Westbrook, the father of her dearest friend, Letitia, pet named Lady Bird. “Seraphin, the brilliant businessman he is, was not able to attend the meeting. He stayed in Quebec City. He sent his son instead. The son has a funny name. What was it? No matter. The son’s as proud as Lucifer. And, of course, Richardieux is grooming him to take over their family’s business. The son is divorced! Can you imagine? I am not aware of a single other family with a divorce to their name. Imagine the shame! I would never let my Letitia near a male like that. And he refuses to learn English, so we had a translator. He gave no apologies for that inconvenience.” He said with a snort into his tea, “Typical Frenchman: refuses to be part of our Empire. Honestly,” he continued, “If this colony ever goes to war, there’ll be conscription because the French will refuse to fight.”
The voices of the other gentlemen could be heard as they all laughed softly at the outlandish joke. Westbrook helped himself to another of the innumerable dainties placed in and amongst the various coffees and teas.
“Thank God he said he would return to Quebec as soon as the meeting adjourned this morning—”
Emmett stood before Aubrey at the door. “Come in, Aubrey.”
The light shone through the bay windows as Emmett, Sir Westbrook, and tall Mr. Lawrence rose to greet her. Emmett explained she was on vacation from Sacred Heart Academy in Regina.
When Aubrey, an only child, was very young, her parents died while abroad on vacation. She had little recollection of her vain father or cold mother. Aubrey became the ward of her paternal grandmother, Gran. Aubrey’s maternal grandfather, a widower who became childless with the passing of his daughter, suggested the orphaned grandchild live with him in Ottawa, where he retired. Gran, who did not like girls, was happy to rid herself of her charge. Aubrey adored Emmett for the father figure that he was to her. The pair had a joyful, close bond.
“What are your ambitions after your studies?” inquired Westbrook, a middle-aged, portly man with a kind, fatherly disposition.
To marry was the answer of a proper lady and the one she gave.
“Right,” he said and encouraged her on. “You plan to return to Ottawa until you find a suitable husband. Nor do you care to attend University. That shows true intelligence and none of this wanting the right to vote,” he stated with an impatient wave of hand. “That is a major problem right now in Parliament. All these suffragettes campaigning for the vote, claiming equal rights for women. You are not a suffragette. You are a lady.” After complimenting Aubrey, he turned to Emmett, “You have done a fine job raising her, and practically on your own,” he added with a smile.
“Such intelligence, beauty, and charm before us. Any man would be lucky to have her,” said Lawrence. His sack suit was the smartest of the three, against his strong, handsome frame, dark, sharp features, and dashing blue eyes. She returned the smile.
Aubrey ascended to her room and rang the maid. Every time she donned gloves, she could hear Gran lecturing, “One can always tell a lady by her hands. The day a lady does not care about her hands or complexion is the day she is no longer a lady.” Aubrey silently slipped out the back of the manor. She made her way to the stables. Propriety called for a female to be chaperoned by a groom, though two females were permitted to ride with only each other and without a gentleman to accompany them. Aubrey found a stable servant feeding an apple from his own ration to a horse. As mistress, Aubrey reprimanded the servant for breaking a rule by revoking the servant’s only day off for the week. The servant envied the heated stall and embossed brass nameplate of the horses’ living arrangements.
Pembina faded while Aubrey rode to the outer part of Vauréal, the Laurentiens’ estate. Vauréal’s property was larger than Pembina, and Aubrey loved it almost as much as her own estate. Riding onto Vauréals property, Aubrey thought of Emmett, who could not understand “certain women of today,” as he worded it. The common or derogatory term was “suffragette.” Ladies were expected to have polite accomplishments, and jumping was, to be sure, not one. Aubrey went riding with the Laurentien boys, who agreed not to tell of her jumping with them on their property. She adored riding. She loved winter the most of all the seasons and the time of year suited her; her personality was cold.
Aubrey rode past the oak grove that was the boys’ favourite part of their estate. Aubrey looked in the distance and saw a lone rider. The stranger had stopped at the creek. His back was towards her. Remarkably tall and dressed impeccably, the gentleman was allowing his thoroughbred to drink from the creek. The water was only inches in depth. However, a large tree had fallen across the path. The creek was partially blocked.
Vauréal had several thoroughbreds, but the man was clearly too tall and wide in the shoulders to be a Laurentien. She was unsure whether she should jump the fallen tree, though the tree looked not unlike fences she had jumped before. Her safety skirt was, after all, attached. The lone rider stood up straight. The gentleman seemed so tall he would have to bow to enter a regular doorway. She was keen to stay the course and decided to jump. She thought best not to speak to the stranger, especially if Emmett were to know of her riding alone. The gentleman turned around at the sound of Aubrey’s approaching horse.
She had never jumped a felled tree before. If not for her veil, her hard hat would have come undone. After she rode some way with her cape billowing behind her, she turned back to look at the rider. The man was no longer simply standing. His hands were straight in the air and he wore a large smile. She was perplexed for a moment. A voice called out to her. She did not catch what he said, though it was obvious what he thought of her from his tone of sheer amusement. Not only had she ridden farther than he but she, a lady, had cleared a leap. She had bested a gentleman twice at something only males were supposedly able to do.
Men! Aubrey thought. Why does everyone think they are superior to us?! What does it matter if I do not act like a lady? No one will know and I will never see this man again. He is clearly no gentleman, to encourage a lady to act disgracefully.
With anger she could never quite contain, Aubrey forgot herself in the heat of battle. She turned her horse around to face the rider. Palms up, she shrugged to indicated she was indifferent to what he thought of her. The abhorrent gesture seemed to spur the gentleman. His smile grew wider. He called out again. Still smiling, she turned her hand topsy-turvy to indicate he was merely satisfactory. The man’s smile grew larger still. Then, she threw her hands behind her, over her head and let them fall in front as though to say, “never mind.” She turned her horse and took off at a gallop down the trail. The stranger was left standing with his arms still in the air and the widest smile. As Aubrey rode down the path she thought, A shame I shan’t see him again, the only man I have ever known who can stand me being myself.
The following evening, the massive wrought iron doors of the Vauréal manor were opened by footmen. Covering the front room were gentlemen in tailcoats adorned with boutonnieres or silk handkerchiefs and ladies in low bodices and short sleeves decorated with diamonds, pearls, plumes, boas, and full-length white gloves. Footmen took Aubrey’s silk and Emmett’s satin coats to put amongst the other rich coats, cloaks, and capes. The footmen had only finished laying the thousands of pieces of cutlery, crystal, and glass. The butler deemed the dining room acceptable after taking a ruler to make sure all pieces were laid in correct measurement to their purpose.
All guests, if not from England, were of Upper Canada Gentry. Mr. Michel Laurentien greeted Aubrey and her grandfather with a kiss and a handshake. The Laurentiens had been in Canada these few centuries. Michel was a short though strong man, with dark features and eyes. His children looked very similar to him, far more so than they did their mother. He was a well-known lawyer from a respectable family. Lady Bird was immediately at Aubrey’s side. As chirpy as a bird when a little girl and already envious of her mother’s title of ‘Lady,’ and Lady Bird she became. Lady Bird was taller than Aubrey, though not overly so, with high cheekbones, dark hair, and green-blue eyes with flecks of hazel in them. If not for her true nature — she was rather rotten on the inside — she would be considered a very handsome girl. The pair looked in earnest for their other intimate, Peter.
Wreaths and holly lined the four railings of the second floor. In front of the enormous Christmas tree on the main floor were two of the Lawrences, the dashing Edmund and Lindsay. Both were slightly taller than their father, which meant both sons were slightly closer to seven feet than to six. The two could pass for twins if not for a difference of a few inches in height, and Edmund, the eldest, had slightly darker brown hair than Lindsay. Heir to his father’s estate and with his father’s handsome features, it is a wonder Edmund has yet to marry, Aubrey thought. They were with the Harringtons: Hugh, Harry, Henrietta, Herbert, and Herbert’s new bride, Philippa Tomryn. Philippa looked radiant in her wedding gown. Less than six months had passed since her wedding day. Etiquette still permitted the dress to be worn at high-class affairs.
With Philippa’s hourglass figure and coveted chestnut-brown hair, she was a stunning beauty. Aubrey’s hourglass frame was not equal to Philippa’s. However, Aubrey was still thought to be handsome by most. Aubrey had dark, though rich, brown hair that accented her royal blue eyes to a lovely degree. Henrietta was tall, taller than Aubrey, but thin, and she had unfortunate blond hair. Ugh, I’m certainly glad I don’t look like that, thought Aubrey in contempt while she looked at Henrietta and Philippa, who stood nearby.
Those females were not truly Ladies, as Aubrey and Lady Bird were, but daughters of merchants or industrialists. Females of “New Money” would never be completely accepted into the sphere of the Edwardian elite, though grudgingly endured as they financed their titled husbands’ estates.
Lady Westbrook, a born lady, and Mrs. Lawrence, as stunning and as kind as her husband, were together gossiping about etiquette. Mme. Laurentien was elsewhere, caught up in the complex scheme of introducing one’s guests to one another. Mme. Laurentien was a short, plump woman with a sweet disposition and the patience of Job. She was one of Aubrey’s favourite women.
Across the room, one of the Laurentien girls, Pierrette, hoping for religious life, was discussing the New Testament with Genevieve Desrosiers.
Pierrette said, “For whosoever makes himself great shall be humbled, and he that humbles himself shall be made great.”
Then came the harsh and haughty voice of Peter Edwards, who came over to Aubrey and Lady Bird. Malevolence was the thread that held the small band of friends together. Peter was not tall, had plain brown hair, a similar eye colour, and a pompous air about him. Aubrey looked over to Emmett while Peter and Lady Bird launched into conversation of their invitations to skate at Rideau Hall. Emmett was endeared by all and possessed the rare attribute of speaking to master and servant in the same tone. He was always one of the tallest men in the room and, Aubrey thought, one of the most handsome. Her grandfather was an imposing man who had wide shoulders, even in old age, elegant features, and bright green eyes. He looked over at her and returned her smile. She could just hear his conversation with Michel. Emmett and Michel were at a distance. Though one was Protestant and the other Roman Catholic, their love of theology was a mainstay in their decades-long friendship. Aubrey heard Emmett say, “Every Kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation.”
Michel finished, “And a House divided against itself cannot stand.”
Lawrence and Mr. Harrington were next to the trio, speaking of the gentleman’s agreement between America and Japan a few years prior. The Lawrences were British aristocrats. The Harringtons were Canadian industrialists. The Harringtons were a small family of four children, all blond-haired and taller than average. Mrs. Harrington had long since died in childbirth, delivering a stillborn. By Providence, the baby had only been a girl.
The trio moved to the main room. Lady Bird snickered about Philippa’s transformation even though the article entirely matched Philippa’s hair colour.
Étienne, the eldest of the Laurentiens, came to Aubrey’s side. He stood just taller than Aubrey with dark green eyes. The rest of his features he inherited from his father. Étienne said, “There is someone I want you to meet. Our fathers are cousins. Very peculiar he is here at all, considering we have not seen him since we were children. He is so busy with work; he will not even play a game of hockey with us. He extended his stay in Ottawa. Father says this is, to be sure, his first vacation! He has never been to a family reunion. But he wanted to be here tonight, and no one can seem to understand why. He wanted to stay for the ball — father said he did not dance at his own wedding.”
They looked to the entryway as the butler, Thierry, a small, older, and kindly man, announced, “Mr. Aurelien Richardieux.”
The moment Richardieux bowed in order to enter the doorway, all jollities came to an end. One could tell a gentleman by his walk, and this one harboured arrogance most unbecoming to his class. The slicked, chestnut-brown hair, thick eyebrows, and mustache complimented his strong jawline and cheekbones. The crisp white bow tie and black tails against his powerful frame soon had more than just Aubrey, though grudgingly, admiring him.
Étienne said, “Lady Kingston, permit me to present to you Mr. Richardieux.”
A frigid bow, by way of greeting, came from her. A kiss on either cheek, too long to be considered gentlemanly, was indulged in by him. The man had nearly the most handsome French accent she had ever heard. Later, even Peter could not make fun of this man’s accent; his voice was dashing. His steel-grey eyes seemed to find her amusing, though he did not smile. After conversing a short while with Aubrey, Étienne and Richardieux excused themselves. They were obliged to obtain the name card from Thierry that told them which lady to escort into dinner.
Lady Bird whispered to Aubrey, “Apparently Richardieux is as notorious a womanizer as his father. Richardieux’s divorce was the scandal of Quebec City the whole year and all over the front pages of the papers. Naturally, both parties had to leave the dominion for a year. She went to France. He went to Switzerland, I think so, given he was thrown quite upon his honour by her father — branded a cad for life.”
Aubrey looked up at Richardieux, who looked over to her. She flushed and turned back to Lady Bird. She had never been introduced to someone who was divorced.
The dinner gong sounded in a low tone so as the females would not take fright. Each male found his partner according to rank. Michel led Philippa, as new bride and guest of honour, ever to his right and also when they were seated at dinner. The next highest-ranking lady followed behind the host and on the arm of the male of her equal. Mme. Laurentien did not wish to offend anyone with Richardieux present, being that he was divorced, and since Aubrey was the youngest lady, she was paired to be escorted by and seated with Richardieux at dinner.
The shaded candles cast an intimate glow the length of the elaborate dining room. Lady Bird had recently been to a dinner party that had electricity. She said she positively looked a hundred years old. The measureless conversation of comportment, weather, and familiar prattle that encompassed the Edwardian dinner party soon began. While Aubrey and her rival made their way to the end of the dining table, Rev. Mrs. Tomryn, a plain, devout Protestant, and Mme. Desrosiers, a petite devout Roman Catholic, their families both Canadian-born, were at odds with each other over the appropriate time to remove one’s gloves once seated. Next to these matrons was Emmett, who sat opposite Francis Lawrence. He looked similar to his brothers, except for he had inherited his father’s eyes while his brothers had brown eyes. Francis had recently taken the bar. His aim was to enter politics, much like his father.
Emmett said gravely to Francis, “England’s influence and dominance have remained steadfast these centuries. When I first came here, Canada was a mere colony. Now, she is a self-governing dominion. Perhaps you shall lead this dominion into nationhood.”
“I should do my best, Sir,” came the modest reply.
Fitzwilliam Kellynch and Mr. Desrosiers, a silver-haired, blue-eyed, short, and very successful businessman, discussed a sensitive matter. They conversed quietly so as not to alarm the ladies.
Kellynch was to inherit a vast fortune and the title Earl when his father passed. He had pale blue eyes and a decided look about him. He stood at regular height, was toned, and had excellent intelligence and character.
Mme. Laurentien was the last to enter, as hostess, and always with the highest-ranking man. Michel’s guests sat, and he signalled the dinner should commence.
Aubrey sat poorly, forgetting that one can tell a lady by the way she seats herself. The stewed trout was served. Across the flower arrangements, Richardieux paralleled the seriousness of the footman behind each chair. She would soon learn he rarely moved from this position. Étienne was to be Richardieux’s translator for the evening. The eldest Laurentiens were fluent in both languages and had the barest trace of a French accent. Though Aubrey had a working knowledge of the modern languages, she did not excel in French. She wondered if Richardieux would tell Emmett of the previous day’s outrageous afternoon.
The footmen cleared the poached salmon with mousseline sauce and cucumbers so they could serve the roast duckling. Peter laughed loudly at his own joke. The ladies surrounding him replied in kind, though they laughed gently in a way that did not affront those around them. A lady was also known by the charm of her voice. For the first time in the evening, Richardieux spoke. He inquired after Peter.
Étienne asked Richardieux in French, “The one with the pale, smooth complexion?” Richardieux replied in the affirmative and asked Étienne a question about his dinner partner. Étienne laughed and said to Aubrey, “My cousin says that comes from avoiding work your whole life. In English, you call him a Remittance Man. And my cousin would like to know your hobbies aside from, that is to say, show jumping?” Étienne finished uncertainly, his brow furrowing quizzically while Aubrey’s did in detest.
Aubrey answered, “I am rather fond of Shakespeare, Hamlet being a favourite.”
Richardieux replied quietly in French, “Une femme qui lire (French for ‘A bookish female’).”
Impatience got the better of Aubrey. She understood the slight against her. A lady should be pleasant enough to be knowledgeable of the world, though not academically inclined.
Over the sixth course, which saw a separate dish served for each of the trio, Étienne asked Aubrey, “My cousin would like to know what music you fancy.”
Aubrey replied, “Beethoven.”
Richardieux’s eyebrows raised, “Une femme intelligente (An intelligent woman).”
The elaborate ice sculptures began to melt. Étienne told Aubrey that Beethoven was also one of his cousin’s favourite composers. The next wine was served to pair with the next course. Aubrey found herself goaded by Richardieux time and again. She could hardly retain composure. She faltered at every turn with the man. She wanted to tell him to go to the devil sooner than any man she had known. She would rather storm from the hall than remain with this person, though that would shock the other guests. A lady was judged by the way she left a room. Besides, she could not leave before the older gentlemen and ladies because that would be the height of rudeness in a young person. The ninth through eleventh courses were eaten in silence.
Étienne attempted conversation and tried for a lively debate, “Father said women may soon obtain the vote.”
Quite under his breath, Richardieux retorted, “Si l’enfer devrait geler (When hell freezes over).”
Aubrey understood what was said and had had enough of her dinner partner. To loathe him for eternity was the silent agreement made by her.
She blurted, “You mean Hell hasn’t already frozen given it’s winter in Ottawa and I’m seated here with you?”
She sat astonished at such callous disregard for the gentleman’s code. The etiquette of a lady was equal to the education of a gentleman. Étienne nearly spat out his glass of wine laughing. He called for more, as was expected over the duration, alcohol being as common as tea. Richardieux was a teetotaller. As a lady, Aubrey’s champagne lay appropriately full. Before she could possibly recover to tell Étienne not to, translate he did. When Richardieux was told what Aubrey had said, he lost all pretences. He made the great faux pas of resting on the back of his chair. Then he hung his head and laughed. Though the most wretched man was seated before her, she was loath to admit in his smile a more handsome man could not be found.
The fifteenth and final course of absurdly moulded peaches in Chartreuse jelly and French ice cream was set before them. The footmen were now relieved to stand in the hall for an idle evening. They would find repose subsequent to walking a few tens of miles inside the manor throughout the very day.
The dinner concluded with the new acquaintances staring at one another across the way: she, with a look of one informed the groundhog had not seen his shadow and winter was to last much longer; he, with the look of Canadians in the first days of spring when the snow has assented to melt, the sun has strength to be of warmth, and the birds commence their songs after too harsh a winter.