Chapter 2182 - 241: If I Must Name My Mentor, I Can Only Say I’m the Student of the Earl of Dalmo!

Who made him so conveniently both brilliant and prominent, proud and unwilling to play deaf and dumb?

He fit the shape of this "pot" too perfectly.

The entrance of the Earl’s residence at 14 Berkeley Square was already lined with servants, their expressions tense, as if they had been forewarned of their master’s foul mood today.

The rain trickled down the brims of the footmen’s hats, but no one dared to lift their heads to look at the Earl’s face.

The Earl of Dalmo jumped down from the carriage, his boot heels landing steadily on the slippery cobblestones.

He neither held an umbrella nor took the rain gear handed by the servant, but simply flung his cloak aside and strode into the entrance hall.

His private secretary, also his cousin-in-law, Mr. Edward Ellis, had arrived in advance and was standing at the door waiting for him with a stack of documents.

"John," Ellis didn’t dare say much upon seeing his expression: "Letters from the Department of Colonial Affairs and the Cabinet, and a few latest editorials..."

The Earl of Dalmo didn’t even glance as he tossed his gloves onto the table: "Go on, what are they saying about me behind my back?"

Ellis sighed helplessly: "What else could it be, nothing more than the usual. The Guardian editorial criticizes that you lack the necessary leniency when facing the populace of the French regions. The Morning Post states that the real reason for your resignation was because you realized your reform plans had completely failed, and resigning was just a means to avoid the catastrophic consequences you caused."

"Nonsense! Why doesn’t that coward Charles Grant (the Minister of War and Colonial Affairs) say these things in front of me?" The Earl of Dalmo waved his hand, and the sound of a vase hitting the floor exploded in the hallway: "My reform plans failed? Then tell me, who in the War and Colonial Affairs Department has the guts to propose establishing a responsible government in Canada? Who? That old fool Melbourne? He didn’t even have the guts to oppose me in a Cabinet meeting!"

Seeing this, Ellis hurriedly stepped forward to soothe him: "John, these rumors are just for hearing, nothing more. Louisa knew you were returning today, she specially wrote weeks ago and had the sofas in the living room and the sheets in the rooms changed in advance, fearing you’d be tired from the journey..."

"I’m not tired," Dalmo gritted his teeth, "but I’m thoroughly disgusted! What do those people drinking tea in London know? When have they seen the Parliament of Lower Canada? When have they listened to Papino’s speeches? Do they know how the anger of the French populace ignited? Are these people even fit to criticize me!"

"These people!" Dalmo enunciated heavily, "In 1830, how did they cry and plead for me and father-in-law (Count Grey) to come forward to preside over justice? But now, what has Melbourne done since he took office? Conservatism? Retreat? Does he know what principle means? Does he know what responsibility is? The only thing he knows is how to push trouble onto others, he’s nearly broken the backbone of Liberalism!"

Ellis knew if he didn’t steer his brother-in-law towards a more moderate direction, there was no telling when the Earl of Dalmo would charge to Downing Street and have a big argument with the Prime Minister.

He sighed: "John, what you need most now isn’t to defend yourself, but to rest. Tomorrow, I’ll arrange a carriage to send you back to Durham. Louisa and the children are waiting for you at Lampton Castle... Coming back from Canada may be for the best, at least you won’t have to wade through these troubled waters anymore."

Hearing this, Dalmo’s expression slightly softened, he took a deep breath and although his voice was still firm, it at least wasn’t as fiery.

"Louisa... is she well?" He removed his soaked coat and tossed it to a servant: "And the children? Mary, Emily, have my two precious daughters written recently?"

Seeing Dalmo’s mood improve, Ellis couldn’t help but relax slightly: "They are all well. In her letter, Louisa said that Mary has already started preparing for her debut in next year’s social season. Louisa’s had new dresses made for her, insisting on using only the best Devonshire lace this time."

At this, the tight frown on Dalmo’s forehead finally eased: "Good materials are necessary... Edward, let’s not be hasty returning to Durham tomorrow, I’ll take a trip to Regent Street to have a couple of suits made first."

Seeing Dalmo finally willing to mention his family, Ellis smiled and naturally engaged in small talk: "Actually... Mary was supposed to make her formal debut this spring. The child spent the whole of last winter practicing the curtsy, even holding the Court Etiquette Manual in her hands while walking in the garden. Unfortunately, His Majesty William’s health began to decline at the end of last year, and with the deterioration during spring, Queen Adelaide wasn’t in the mood to receive these young canaries. All the young ladies preparing for their debut had to be postponed."

"Poor Mary," Ellis couldn’t help but laugh: "She grumbled several times, saying she’d be the last of her age to debut after turning eighteen. You know how much girls care about such trivial matters."

Dalmo instinctively prepared to sneer at "trivial matters," but the words slowly sank unspoken.

After all, she’s his darling, unlike those uneducated folks in White Hall.

"She can complain all she wants." Dalmo stretched out his arms for a servant to help him into a clean coat: "But she knows this isn’t something her mother could decide. Louisa has always been dependable, and the Grey family’s descendants, be they male or female, all understand etiquette and know their boundaries."