The Hotel Great Central Grand Confusion

With more than a trifle of trepidation, envelope in hand, Liza climbed the staircase to Lady Katherine’s chamber. She knocked ever so lightly, knowing that all manner of cacophony were despised, not only by the Lady herself, but by all of her personal staff and ladies-in-waiting, among which Liza, the butler’s daughter, was acutely aware she was not.

The door opened, but no more than a smidge: a crack, at most, through which the envelope Liza held could be slid, and, perhaps, an enterprising housefly might intrude, were it so lucky to gain entry to this most perfumed and otherwise alluring wing of the estate.

“What is it, Liza?” Lady-in-waiting Gabrielle asked impatiently through the barely ajar portal, prepared to slam it shut in an instant should any such unwelcome interloper appear.

“Pardon my knock. I thought Lady Katherine might wish to know that the messenger of the Usher estate just arrived to say Lord Usher requests her presence at the Hotel Great Central on the eve of July second, the year of our Lord nineteen hundred and four, Lord Usher in the chair, for dinner and dancing.”

“Are you quite through? I think we all know what year it is Liza. More helpful information, such as the appointed hour, might have been warranted.”

“Perhaps it is indicated on the enclosure, I daren’t open.”

“And better you not. That’s enough, Liza. I’ll take it,” Gabrielle pulled the envelope through the narrow opening, “from here.”

Lady Katherine nodded, granting permission. With palpable anticipation, Gabrielle unsealed the envelope and eagerly withdrew the embossed ivory stock. Reading aloud to her Lady and the others-in-waiting, Annabelle, Bridgette and Charlotte:

The Right Honorable Albert Usher, Esquire

           Cordially Requests Your Presence

at the

Hotel Grand Central

           On the Occasion of his return from World Tour

           July 2^nd The Year of our Lord Nineteen Hundred Four

           Cocktails at 17.00

Dinner to be Served 19.00

           Dancing to Follow

           Repondez S.V.P.

Lord Usher, In the Chair

“Oh how exciting! Lady Katherine, you must go!”

The Hotel Grand Central in Marylebone was the official hotel of the newly operational Grand Central Railroad, and one could assume that Lord Usher was arriving to the hotel via rail, the final stop of his world tour. Not only was the Central Railroad grand, but by all accounts, so too was the Hotel itself.

“It’s a fortnight from today. I must consult Lord Kendrick, just in case he has made other plans.”

At Gabrielle’s insistence, Lady Katherine dispatched her to Lord Kendrick’s wing of the estate. Predictably, and to the disappointment of all concerned, Lord Kendrick was yet on a hunt with no assurance of his availability prior to supper.

Lady Katherine brought the invitation to the dining room and, withal due demureness, such that her genuine desire would not undermine the outcome, presented it.

“Lady Katherine,” Lord Kendrick began, “this is all well and good, but I must decline, as I have been called by the Duke of Winchester to be, at his behest, present for an invitation of my own.”

“I see.” She paused tactfully, sipped from the glass of decanted Bordeaux, and resumed. “Well, it seems the Duke has no need for my presence. In that case, I believe it would be most gracious for me to accept on my own behalf.”

“Quite your prerogative to do so. I have the utmost trust in your good and gracious conduct, with—or without—me in your good company. Proceed as you see fit. There is, of course, the matter of an escort.”

Liza found vindicating joy upon dispatch to messenger the Usher estate that Lady Katherine would, indeed, be in attendance, but, alas, without Lord Kendrick; in his stead, an escort, to be determined.

The matter of an escort, indeed, Lady Katherine thought, as one day turned into the next, and the fortnight reduced to ten days, then, suddenly, it seemed, only a week.

Katherine’s younger brother, Angus, a Navy Captain, was agreeable enough and a passable dancer, but, thankfully, sad to admit, he was engaged in military exercises in Orkney.

There was, however, that American chap, now a barrister, whom she had befriended when she was abroad herself, on exchange at Bryn Mawr College, who had paid a visit last Christmas. While not a member of British aristocracy, after graduating Haverford College, he continued his studies at The London School, earning a Master’s Degree in Economics, then, ultimately, his Juris Doctor from Cambridge: Still an eligible bachelor, now in his early thirties, the same rules not applying to men as they do to the fairer sex, as Katherine well knew.

Gabrielle enlisted a member of Lord Kendrick’s court to deliver the escort request to the esteemed barrister, and Katherine was most pleased to learn that he accepted, immediately and without further ado.

Barrister Case, was a name coincidental enough, though he did not practice anything other than commercial law, and his first name brought a smile to her lips upon recollection: Justin.

How dreadfully opportunistic of me, she mused: My escort’s name is Justin Case.

Thomas, the butler of the estate, and Liza’s widowed father, received the good barrister upon his arrival on the afternoon of the second of July. Lord Kendrick had made his way to Winchester the prior day, so Katherine was rather at ease to offer a most gracious welcome to Justin, whom she greeted in the anteroom, where he held a cocktail. His horse, carriage and driver were watered accordingly, having been separately received.

“Lady Katherine,” he said, taking her hand and planting a chivalrous kiss upon it, “a pleasure to be your escort this evening. Thank you so much for your invitation to do so. Pity that Lord Kendrick was otherwise committed.”

“Yes, indeed,” Katherine replied, her face flushing a shade of pink that only added to her noble beauty.

“Would you care to join me in a cocktail before departing?”

“Best not tarry. I suspect there will be more than enough to drink there, and the traffic in London has been most unpredictable lately. Perhaps the horseless carriage that I have been hearing about will remedy the state of affairs.”

“Funny you should mention it. I have been in recent discussions on that very topic with an American fellow by the name of Ford. Henry Ford. Have you heard of him?”

“I can’t say that I have, but if he’s engaged you, I suspect he’s on to something.”

“Time will tell. In any case, as far as the evening is concerned, quite right: Tally ho!”

“I must say, Justin, you sound more like a Brit than I ever recalled.”

“Benefits of good company, no doubt, my Lady.” With that, he took her by the hand and whisked her into the carriage, whose summon was impeccably timed by Thomas, a keen listener and attendant to such details.

Upon arrival at The Hotel Grand Central, Lord and Lady Usher, champagne flutes in hand, received Lady Katherine and Barrister Case, fashionably after cocktails commenced and comfortably prior to dinner.

Along the way, Lady Katherine explained how she had come to know the Usher family, in particular their eldest daughter, Penelope, fellow finishing school boarder prior to University. Though Penny, like Katherine, was an avid equestrian, the girls’ competitiveness tainted not their friendship. Nor did they allow their status as members of the royal aristocracy, albeit bottommost rung, fall prey to competition for suitors.

Recounting the history, Katherine recalled how her friendship with the now Honorable Barrister, even as undergraduates, never allowed for the real possibility of romance, not to speak of marriage. Though she would never admit it, had it been possible, she rather fancied Justin. He was, after all, tall, handsome, and his sandy blond hair and green eyes were a striking combination. He was also a surprisingly good courtier, despite being American, and his capacity for intellectual repartee made him a most engaging companion when she received him, sober and supervised, in the Denbigh House living room.

There was the occasion when he invited her to play grass court tennis at Merion Cricket, after which his father, a founding member, ordered mint juleps. Who knew that whiskey, ordinarily warm and peaty, could become positively delightful with muddled mint on ice?

Of course, mint juleps were not on the menu this evening, and so, following the Ushers’ example, they adhered to champagne, then wine, and why not, as the world tour collection offered an exceptionally broad selection: sparkling and not; rose, red and white; not only from France, Spain, and Italy, but also from Argentina and South Africa, even Australia and New Zealand, not to mention California.

Upon hearing the Ushers’ tales of Africa, the Americas, Pacific Rim, India, and Europe, Lady Katherine and Barrister Case, whom unwitting guests might easily have mistaken for husband and wife, positively and like-mindedly, both proudly commended the extent of the British Empire.

In fact, a not-so-unwitting guest, with a rather ill-manner and tempered demeanor to suit, who, unlike Penelope, did rather despise Lady Katherine, a certain finishing school fellow alumna, equestrian, and formerly jealous girl, now woman, Anne Waldorf—whose claim to the house of Kensington and Windsor were both sufficiently attenuated that she had had to settle for marrying a commoner, hardly an impoverished one by any means, but nevertheless, someone whom, in her heart of hearts, she knew was beneath her actual station—commenced a most vile rumour upon learning the name of Lady Katherine’s escort, and before the dinner had concluded and as dancing had begun, it began to circulate among certain guests.

The specifics, as happens with such things, varied, but the common elements of the story as it was told – the rumour, as it were – included that “the good Lady Katherine” and “the esteemed Lord Kendrick” have a surprisingly unhappy marriage, the most convincing evidence of which is their lack of any progeny.

Indeed, this latter fact, theorists went on to say, might render questionable if the marriage itself has ever been consummated, and that is easy enough to imagine when you consider the extent of the estate upon which they reside, which affords them each their own wing, separate staff, and, the common interest in equestrian activities notwithstanding, apparently it provided an insufficient basis upon which the marriage may have bonded.

Other more sinister insinuations then brewed, as rumours are wont to promote, including that “the most respected Barrister,” by virtue of his very name, was here this very evening, not by sheer coincidence, but rather that, owing and going back to the good Lady Katherine’s time in the New World, at the Oxford emulating campus of the rather newly built college of Bryn Mawr during her short tenure there, she had, in fact, a much more romantic tryst with this same man escorting her to the Usher’s event at The Hotel Great Central; to wit, Justin Case; that is to say, a hedge, if, God forbid, Lady Katherine and Lord Kendrick’s marriage were not to survive.

Being an eligible bachelor in his own right, not betrothed in any way shape or form, nor of any lineage that could rightly lay claim to British aristocracy, let alone royalty, he had, nonetheless, departed his evidently well positioned station as a member of Philadelphia Main Line blue blood society, what with his family’s founding membership of Merion Golf and Cricket and his degree from Haverford; yet, instead, sought his riches, fortune, and infamy as it might now happen, if not fame, in none other than this same city that we all find ourselves presently; and he remains eligible, despite his advancing age; and what else could explain both his presence, generally, in London, not to mention on this particular evening, other than that he harbours his own pining for the good Lady, such was the whispered rancor of the evening.

At no point did this impede the handsome couple’s enjoyment, at least not that evening, in part because they were seated with the Ushers, whose civility could never deign to engage in such petty thievery of reputation; and so they fully enjoyed all of the courses of the fine meal, with gathering ebullience, fostered by that creeping inebriation only the finest wines incur. So remarkable, even by the Lady and the Barrister’s—not to mention their hosts the Usher’s—fine standards, was the menu, it ought to be noted here:

                                   Le Menu

                       Consomme en Tasse

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                       Filet de Sole Grand Duc

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                       Cotelette d’Agneau de la Noix

                       Petits Pois au Beurre

                       Pommes de Terre a la Parisienne

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Poularde en Casserole

Salade de Laitues

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                       Poires a la Melba

                       Biscuits a la Cuillere

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                  Dessert

The intoxication of such a fine menu combined with the uninterrupted flow of nectars harvested from various parts of the world, Old and New, as previously noted, designed by prior tastings of the chairing Lord Usher himself in consultation with the executive chef of the Hotel Great Central, a Monsieur Lyons, who had trained in Paris and was also well schooled in Italy as well, encouraged particular pairings of wine with each course; and, due to the leisurely pace with which the meal was served, allowed for multiple glasses with each course, and even, by some accounts, a less than fully punctual commencement to the meal due to the sheer number of guests and the service of cocktails prior thereto, it would be fair to say that dinner itself had not concluded, that is to say dessert was not served, until at least a few minutes after 22.00, which was late even by London standards, although nothing to be ashamed of in most of the rest of the world that the Ushers had visited, with the possible exception of California.

Indeed, this was par for the course, one might say, in Monsieur Lyons’ estimation of a proper dinner of the sort he had orchestrated and was overseeing, and, therefore, the dance did not begin until nearly 22.30, which meant that both the good Barrister and Lady Katherine were in fine form; perhaps form a bit too fine, although certainly Barrister Case allowed those who wished to dance with Lady Katherine; and, at such moments as arose, including one with Lord Usher himself, who was always quite captivated by his eldest daughter’s classmate, hence the invitation extended, Justin sought Penelope and Lady Usher, but, to Anne Waldorf’s withering dismay turned grim satisfaction, never her.

Thus, the evening continued with murmurings perpetrated by Anne’s uncharitable imagination, none of which had any actual grounding in reality, but one only needed to believe one’s own eyes to perceive the modicum of plausibility that gained a currency of its own apparent value.

The entire affair, pardoning the use of the term in this context, sordid as it seemed from whichever angle one viewed it, might have had no lasting bearing whatsoever had it not been for the presence of a member of the press, Mister Alasdair Whyte, chief editor of the London Times, who had been both invited by Lord Usher and dispatched by the Times’ publisher himself to organise the capture of photographs and copy for a story to memorialise the event, for imminent publication in the Society Pages on Sunday, a week hence.

As it happened, the London Social Register further encumbered the following Sunday’s voluminous edition, a copy of which arrived, following his return from Winchester after honorable discharge by the Duke, on the desk of Lord Kendrick, and any amusement upon his review dissipated, inversely proportionate to the gain concerning embarrassment of cuckold. Lady Katherine, none too pleased at the berating he issued toward her, assured her conduct had been, as one would have only expected, entirely “ladylike.”

Similarly, the subsequent stern missive delivered to the good Barrister’s offices later that same week was a source of nothing but confusion to Justin, as he had no occasion to read the Society Pages and was otherwise oblivious to his inclusion in the London Social Register opposite Lady Katherine as an assumed paramour.

Under different circumstances, he may have found a certain satisfaction in achieving an unexpected degree of assimilation into an echelon of proper London society, not to mention inclusion by the British aristocracy; royalty, given the lack of a bloodline to support it, never having been a question. Instead, he thought that, perhaps, discretion was the better part of valour, in this instance, and, rather than seeking to clarify or defend himself, he demurred, which left all of those who had feasted on the rumour like vultures on carrion in a state of anticlimax.

Of course, no one was more disappointed than Lady Katherine herself, who, to this day, remains childless, and, as rumour has it, never has again been on as public display, leading to the ongoing speculation that, this was, in fact, all true, and her own true love remains unrequited.

THE END