He nodded then turned to stare up at the house. “None of it makes sense, does it?” he asked. “I suppose you take it for granted, but to me it all seems bloody silly. This dressing up for dinner and using one fork for this and another for that. What’s it all for?”

“Tradition, I suppose. We behave in a way that sets us apart from ordinary people, to remind us that we’re special. And you’re right. It really is silly.”

“If my gran could see me now.” He looked up at the house and laughed. “My old gran in Australia, I mean. The one who used to skin the sheep for tucker. Not the one who wants me to call her Grandmama.”

“I have the same experience,” I said. “I had one grandmother who was a princess and one who was a London policeman’s wife. I never met either, unfortunately. But I’ve always felt suspended between two worlds and never wholly belonging in either of them.”

“But you’re a real toff,” he said. “Anyone can tell that by looking at you. But I’m glad you’ve got a common side too. You’re the only one who hasn’t talked to me as if I was a piece of dirt. You and Darcy. He’s all right too, even though he is a toff.”

“I’ll show you around the grounds, if you like,” I said.

“Right-oh.”

We started to walk, through the formal gardens, past the fountain, past the maze, down through the glen and up to the temple.

“What’s this for then?” he asked. “Some sort of religion?”

“No, just for decoration, like everything else,” I said. “I know. Another silly thing.” And we laughed. I was beginning to like him a lot.

“What time is breakfast?” he asked. “I’m starving. And please don’t tell me it’s little squares of toast.”

“No, there’s always a pretty good spread. What do you eat for breakfast at home?”

“Staked necks,” he said.

“What sort of necks?” I asked in surprise.

“The ordinary sort. From chooks.”

I shook my head. “I thought we spoke the same language, but obviously we don’t.”

“You know. Chooks. Like we had for supper last night.” And he mimicked a chicken.

“Chicken necks?” I made a face.

He laughed. “No, eggs. You know, what they lay?”

“Oh, you said steak and eggs.” I laughed too. “Well, there will be eggs, but we don’t eat steak for breakfast in England. Too expensive, even for dukes.”

We walked back to the house. As we approached he looked up, studying the imposing edifice rising out of the mist. “They don’t really want me here, do they? That bloody Cedric hates my guts.”

“I can’t disagree with you. But try hard to learn and fit in and they’ll come around.”

As we came into the house I added, “Oh, and I’d take my hat off, if I were you. Hats are not worn inside houses like this, and it only upsets your grandmother.”

He looked at me, grinned then removed his hat as we went into breakfast. We were the first ones there and the dishes in the tureens on the sideboard were still piping hot. We both ate heartily and Jack even tried items new to him, like kedgeree.