“Of course,” Elias said with a nod.
“A gentleman settles for only the best,” the lord said. He went to the fireplace and stirred its coals with a rod. “Do try to find some pleasure in your departure, Son. Only a fool possesses a distaste for the good fortune bestowed upon him.”
Elias clasped his arms behind his back. He took his leave and went upstairs to pack his belongings, shedding not one tear, uttering not one complaint. He was a Welby.
And such was the Welby way.
Sebastian Darling lavished his presence on Windermere Hall for a brief time. He arrived by coach, his footmen dressed in scarlet uniforms trimmed with fringe. His grandeur, which inspired a gossiped reputation in France, drew a crowd from the manor. Lord and Lady Welby waved the carriage up the gravel drive while their staff arranged themselves on the front stoop.
The fuss seemed inevitable. Elias had overheard rumours about his cousin, of which the most admirable came from his father, who considered Sebastian the perfect Englishman.
The servants’ conversations did not include the same level of flattery.
“One person for tea, and the lady requests a croquembouche and plum pudding,” Mrs. Capers griped from her place next to Elias. “Oh, the nonsense of it all.” Since dawn, she had laboured in the kitchens, preparing desserts.
“And you’re surprised? Lady Welby requested a tiered cake when her sister came to visit.” Elias cracked a smile. He faced the front lawn, where footmen waited to greet the carriage.
His relatives couldn’t be worse than Lady Welby or the masters at Eton.
“Will you be gone long?” Mrs. Capers asked.
“I’ll return when my father bids me,” Elias said. He didn’t wish to contemplate losing Anne and Mrs. Capers. Thoughts of farewell weighted to his shoulders, made him feel something he hated and feared.
Good-bye had taken his family. Years prior, he’d kissed his mother and shook his father’s hand. He had climbed into a coach, waved to Mrs. Capers, then watched Windermere Hall fade into the distance. When life brought him back to the estate, his mother no longer stood on the front stoop.
“You are a kind and decent man, Mr. Welby,” Mrs. Capers whispered. “Consider us your home, for we find only pleasure in your company.”
Elias blinked to keep his emotions at bay. He wouldn’t shed tears in front of Lord Welby. His feelings didn’t matter. They couldn’t matter. He needed to leave Windermere Hall for his future. For his inheritance. To please his father.
To prove he was more than a bastard.
Footmen rushed forward once the carriage rolled to a stop. They opened its door, revealing a young man with auburn ringlets.
“What a generous welcome,” Sebastian said as he emerged from the compartment. He swept a tall hat from his head and fell into a bow. “I daresay I’ve not been received by such an audience since, well, my court date. Apparently celebration is a criminal offense.”
“Good afternoon, Nephew. You look quite well.” Lord Welby stepped from the lineup. He gave Sebastian a handshake.
“Quite well? Nonsense. I believe my looks fare a bit grander than well.” Sebastian grinned when one of the maids giggled.
“Will you join us for afternoon tea?” Lady Welby asked. Her mouth twitched into a sensible smile of the type Elias considered unattractive and, at times, frightening.
“Unfortunately, I must depart as soon as possible. My parents wish me back at Cadwallader by dusk.” Sebastian dismissed Lady Welby with a turn of his shoulder, a discourtesy that caused Mrs. Capers to snicker. He motioned for Elias to enter the carriage.
“I suppose the lady will have plum pudding for dinner,” Mrs. Capers said under her breath. She touched Elias’s arm, perhaps to comfort him. “Godspeed, Mr. Welby.”
Elias patted her knuckles. He left the front stoop, his heart racing as a footman strapped his trunk to the coach.
Lord Welby gave a nod, an acceptable good-bye.
“Cousin, we best leave with haste.” Sebastian hurried to the carriage and scaled its step. “Tell me. Are you the snitch type?” he asked once Elias entered the coach. His amber eyes gleamed with mischief. His mouth lifted into a smirk.
“I mind my own business,” Elias said. He knew several boys from Eton who behaved like Sebastian. Most of them had ended up with birched backsides and reprimands.
Sebastian flashed a smile, his body swaying as the carriage lurched into motion. “Good, good. I believe we’ll get on, then.” He reached beneath his seat and disinterred a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. With a tug, he removed its cork.
“Why do you ask?” Elias leaned toward the window to glimpse Windermere Hall before it vanished behind a coppice. He studied the limestone façade and its topiaries, the obscure silhouette of Mrs. Capers shooing other staff members indoors.
Sebastian chuckled and took a swig of the wine. “Tonight I begin your tutorage.”
The vacant country house rose from acres of farmland, its property basked in crisp northern air and scents of tilled soil. Although secluded, the estate offered pristine hunting grounds and quiet living. That is, whenever its owner dared venture from London.
Such isolation gave opportunity to the local and rather daring gentry. On nights when the moon shone through the gloom and flooded the hills with silver light, young people ventured from across the county to entertain themselves at the retreat.
Sebastian Darling refused to miss the clandestine engagements, for even the most witless noblemen understood the importance of attendance. He resolved to take his bastard cousin to the event, more so to keep the appointment than introduce Elias Welby to his companions. What could go wrong? His parents did not expect him to return until the following day. His cousin seemed tame enough. Besides, how could anyone distinguish their identities at a masquerade?
“I cut holes for your eyes.” Sebastian shoved a burlap sack against Elias’s chest and proceeded to fasten a capitano mask onto his own face. “I couldn’t find an extra mask, so you’ll have to make do. Remember. No snitching.”
“Wasn’t your family expecting us for dinner?” Elias slid the sack
