“Not at all.” Fresh pots of tea were placed on the table in front of them all. “Walter has been offered a post in Spain and he wanted Matt’s opinion. Augusta, Phinn, and Charlie are with them as well.”

That made sense. Her sister, brother-in-law, and brother had all been to Spain and knew something of the embassy and consulates. “I am happy for him. How long will it be before he has to leave?”

“I have no idea.” Grace poured a cup of tea. “Not too soon, I hope. I feel as if I barely see him anymore.”

So many things were changing all at once. Yet Grace was right. As Walter got older, he tended to go on walking tours with other young gentlemen rather than coming home during school holidays. It had begun when he was at Eton and continued when he attended Oxford.

A few minutes later, Walter and the others strolled into the breakfast room, still talking. Grace glanced at him. “What did you decide?”

“I’m going to take the offer,” he said. “I’m not expected there until September. Augusta is going to work with me on my Spanish.”

That made sense, Eleanor thought. Augusta spoke almost every language there was, even so-called dead ones. Eleanor let Matt pour a cup of tea and take a sip before asking her question. “What do you know about Lord St. Albans?”

Madeline gave her a really? look and glanced at Matt. “Is he a rake?”

His dark brows raised, then lowered, forming a crease above his nose. “Not that I have heard, and I’ve made a point of discovering who should not be made known to you.” He took another a sip of tea. “How did you meet him?”

Eleanor glanced at her sisters. Apparently, she was to answer this question. “Lord Montagu saw us in the Park and Lord St. Albans was with him. He seems to be rather worldly.”

“So he might.” Matt took a piece of toast. “He’s been on the Town for several years.”

“He has asked us all to stand up with him at Almack’s,” Alice added.

“Lord Montagu has as well,” Eleanor said. There now, they knew everything. She looked at Augusta. “How did you like Almack’s?”

Phinn, who had just taken a drink of tea, quickly covered his mouth with a serviette and swallowed. “She thought it was a dead bore until she met me.” He grinned at his wife. “She was sick to death of talking about the weather.”

“I know the feeling, and the Season has not even officially begun.” Eleanor groaned at the thought of having to have the same conversations over and over and over again. Suddenly, what Phinn did not say prompted a question. “That means you were the only gentleman who would talk about something that mattered. What did you discuss?”