February 1914
Blaine
"Blaine, are you ready? You know that father doesn't like anyone to be late for breakfast," Cooper calls out from the other side of the heavy oak door.
"Almost. I'll be down in a minute," Blaine replies from his bedroom. Blaine now regrets that he has stayed up so late last night reading Sons and Lovers by DH Lawrence. Although he's received the novel as a Christmas present, last night was the first opportunity he has had to read it. He was so engrossed with the Morel family saga that he couldn't put it down until the wee hours. It doesn't help matters that the footman who usually wakes him up and helps him dress for breakfast has consumption, and is now in a sanatorium. He can't wait for the day when a replacement is found.
Blaine goes to the valet stand in the corner of his bedroom to finish dressing. Blaine deftly buttons up his waistcoat and secures two chains into the appropriate holes before depositing the attached watch into his pocket. He wraps and knots his tie around the stiff shirt collar, ensuring that the wing tips are still pressed down. He slips the jacket of his brown worsted single-breasted suit, and sits down to put on his leather brogue shoes. Blaine goes to the full-length mirror hanging on one of the wardrobe's door panels for a final check that he's presentable for breakfast. His father is a stickler for attire, manners and the like.
When Blaine is confident that he'll pass his father's inspection, he leaves his bedroom, rushes down the long corridor, takes two steps at a time down the winding staircase, and enters the dining room.
The family's butler is the first to greet him. "Good morning, Mr Blaine."
"Good morning, Hummel," Blaine replies before taking a plate from the end of the buffet table. He methodically lifts the lid off each silver chafing dish one at a time, loading his plate with an omelet, a lamb chop, toast, mushrooms, and fried potatoes. He then sits at the last vacant seat, which is opposite his mother.
"Good morning, Blaine. You're looking dapper this morning," Pamela greets.
Blaine gently touches his hair to make sure that he did a proper job with his hair pomade and all his curls are slicked down. Satisfied that every hair is in place, he smiles at his mother and replies, "I'm glad that you think so, Mama. I'm surprised you aren't having your breakfast upstairs, as usual."
"You'll find I'm full of surprises today," she replies. Pamela is practically glowing, and Blaine can tell that she has good news. However, he'll be patient and wait until she's ready to share with the rest of the family.
Blaine glances around the dining room. It's a rather somber room, with oak paneling and a 12-foot long oak table, but only set for people to dine at one end. The portrait oil paintings hanging on the walls are a reminder of the past generations that have lived at Westerville Abbey, and are intertwined in its history. It's a cold winter's morning, and although the full-length gold brocade curtains are open, there is only weak sunlight brightening the room. He notices the staff standing to attention along the wall, and Sebastian, the first footman, approaching him with a silver teapot.
After pouring tea into Blaine's cup, Sebastian politely asks, "Did you find everything you required for breakfast, Mr Blaine?"
"Yes, I did, Sebastian. I plan to spend the day outside around the estate, so I'll need plenty of energy."
Blaine can see Sebastian's lips curl into what almost looks like a smirk, but it quickly disappears. Although Sebastian has been employed at Westerville Abbey for almost two years, Blaine still feels uncomfortable around him. It's the way Sebastian looks at him, as if he's a prize for the taking and he's not sure what for. Blaine always feels uneasy in Sebastian's presence, though the footman is far too clever to do anything that would cause Blaine to complain.
"You're lucky, Blaine. I'll be spending the morning stuck inside pouring over the estate's accounts with father. I still can't figure out the difference between a debit and a credit," Cooper says with exasperation in his voice.
Blaine doesn't feel too badly for Cooper. After all, he's the firstborn son and heir to the Westerville estate and the titles. Cooper has to do boring tasks like reviewing the accounting records. Blaine, who is ten years younger, is considered the spare heir - someone who is around 'just in case' Cooper doesn't sire a son. Blaine has never been involved in the estate's business affairs, and that suits him perfectly fine.
"Nonsense, Cooper. We'll spend the morning with the estate manager, who will explain everything to us in simple, easy to understand terms."
Blaine's focus turns to his father, who just joined the conversation. His head is deeply buried into the freshly-ironed Daily Telegraph newspaper that was delivered earlier in the morning.
"What's happening in the world today, Michael?" Pamela asks her husband.
"To be honest, not very much. However, there's a sense of trouble in Austria-Hungary I'm not certain what will come of it. I'm sure I'll learn more about it in the House of Lords next week."
"Never mind, darling. We have the most wonderful news to give everyone on this winter morning."
All eyes turn to the Countess of Westerville. "I received a telegram late last night from America. My niece, Rachel, will soon be on her way from New York City to stay with us. I can't tell you how much I look forward to having the company of someone from my side of the Atlantic."
Blaine smiles broadly at the news. He knows that his American mother has always enjoyed visitors from her home country. He also knows that Rachel is roughly his own age, and is looking forward to her companionship.
The Earl sets down the Daily Telegraph. "Just in time for the London season. We'll need to find her a suitable husband… titled, of course."
Blaine can sense the uncomfortable lapse in the conversation. It's a well-known fact that his mother was once a young American million-dollar heiress who arrived in London in search of a titled husband. His father married her in order to save the Westerville estate from its financial problems with her enormous dowry. As luck had it, they had eventually fallen in love by the time Blaine was born. Their relationship is now full of mutual respect, love and affection, and Blaine can only hope that he will share a similar deep-rooted love with his future wife.
"What's Cousin Rachel like?" Blaine asks.
"From what my brother Hiram has written, she's intelligent and independent. She knows her mind and what she wants out of life."
"So, Cousin Rachel is strong-willed and difficult," Cooper chortles.
"I prefer the term 'ambitious'. American women are slightly bolder than what you are used to. That doesn't mean it's bad, just different."
Blaine can't help but glance at Quinn, who has stayed silent throughout the conversation. Her golden hair is loosely pinned back in a low-lying bun against the nape of her neck and it frames her beautiful face. She's wearing a simple navy blue dress with a cream-colored embroidered collar, cut in a V-neck, which displays the gold locket necklace that Cooper gave her for their last wedding anniversary.
"I for one am looking forward to having another woman in the house closer to my age. Do you know anything more about her?" Quinn politely inquires.
"Hiram raves about her virtues in every letter he sends. He's absolutely besotted with her. Rachel has had the best women's education in America - she recently graduated from Emma Willard with flying colors. She's particularly talented musically and apparently has a voice of an angel."
"Now that is something I'll enjoy. It's no fun singing duets with Blaine. He can't match my vocal prowess," Cooper brags.
Blaine rolls his eyes at his brother's comment. Ever since he can remember, Cooper has shown himself competitive towards Blaine when it comes to musical talent. He and Cooper always perform music after dinner, with Cooper singing the lead vocals, and Blaine playing the piano and joining in during the chorus.
"As you know, Rachel's mother died in childbirth, so Hiram has had to raise her single-handedly. Now that she's turned 18 years old, he feels that I'm more suited to present her to society than he is himself. We'll have a ball at Westerville Abbey in May, and then head off to London for the remainder of the Season. I expect the entire family to come along."
Quinn squeals with delight, clapping her hands softly. "I can't wait! We haven't had a major society event at Westerville Abbey since my wedding. I often think of my own coming out Season. The new wardrobe full of evening dresses in the latest fashion, the rounds of afternoon teas, and the balls… Oh, the balls," Quinn says with a dreamy expression. She suddenly snaps out of her thoughts and adds, "And of course, meeting Cooper. He quite simply swept me off my feet from the moment I saw him."
Blaine thinks back to three years ago, when the family was fully focused on finding Cooper a wife. After all, Cooper needed to marry and produce heirs to continue the family line at Westerville. Thanks to his mother, the estate was secure financially, so Cooper was able to find a wife that he wanted for love. Quinn had no such luck. Her parents owned an estate in nearby Cornwall, but she was cash poor due to her father's financial mismanagement. Fortunately, Quinn is a woman of great beauty and grace, and captured Cooper's heart during her coming out Season. They were engaged by the end of the Season and had a fairy-tale like wedding at Westerville Abbey the next spring.
On their wedding day, his father bestowed a subsidiary title to Cooper, so he's now the 'Viscount of Westerville'. For months afterwards, Cooper had been intolerable with his new title, and enjoyed having the servants referring to him as 'his lordship'. Blaine put his foot down at calling Cooper 'my lord', and their mother had to intervene to put a halt to Cooper's constant teasing.
"We have to make sure that Westerville Abbey will have the ball that everyone will talk about for the rest of the Season. There is so much planning to do," Pamela ponders. She then turns towards Quinn and they rattle on about potential themes, food menus, music, decorations, and the like. In the meantime, the earl launches into a discussion with Cooper about the estate's business, leaving Blaine to feel like a third wheel in both conversations.
"May I be excused from the table, Father?"
"Of course, Blaine."
He grabs an apple from the fruit bowl set out on the buffet table as he leaves the dining room, eager to escape the house and the talk about the London season and the estate's accounts.
Blaine hurries up the staircase to dress for the day. He rummages in his wardrobe to find his riding attire. He changes into his more informal white shirt, moss-green tweed trousers, coordinating waistcoat, and a Norfolk jacket, fastening the two buttons that secure the belt around his waist. He quickly knots the brown tie, changes his socks for a heavier wool pair, and puts on his riding boots, which fit snugly along his calves. After finding his woolen cap used for riding, he inspects his outfit in the mirror. His father holds the family and staff to a very high standard, both inside and outside the Westerville estate.
After popping the apple from breakfast in his jacket pocket, Blaine makes his way down the stairs, and he notices Hummel walking along the corridor.
"I see you are planning a ride this morning, Mr Blaine."
"Yes, even though it's overcast and cold outside, I need to exercise both my horse and myself. How is your health? I was worried about you." Hummel had a turn last month, and for the first time that Blaine could recall, the butler had spent a day in bed.
"I'm much better, thank you. Tip top, you could say."
"Have you had any luck finding a new footman?" Blaine inquires, because he certainly misses the assistance, particularly in the mornings.
"As a matter of fact, I have," Hummel replies with a huge grin on his face. "My son started this morning. After a period of extensive training and making sure he meets my exact standards, he'll be looking after you."
"If he's anything like you, I'm sure that he will surpass your exact standards very soon."
After a short walk, Blaine arrives at the estate's stables. It not only houses the dozen or so horses the family owns, but the dogs used on the fox hunts as well. In some ways, it feels more like home than the main house. Blaine has learnt to ride at an early age, and he spends as much time as he can with the horses.
"Wesley, where are you?"
"I'm over here, Mr Blaine," Wesley calls out from the stall that contains Firebird, Blaine's horse. After the Boxer Rebellion, Wesley's family immigrated from China to London. Wesley's natural affinity with horses earned him a position at the Westerville estate as a stable boy three years ago. Blaine considers Wesley a horse whisperer after helping him to break in Firebird.
His mother had arranged for the young black stallion to be shipped from Kentucky for his 16th birthday. Blaine immediately named him 'Firebird', after Stravinsky's ballet. He fell in love with the score when he first heard it three years ago during a visit in London, and to this very day, he still enjoys playing the music on the piano.
Wesley appears and brushes the straw off from his trousers. "I saw the tell-tale signs that you visited Firebird last night. You brushed him down and added more hay in his stable."
Blaine drops his head and nods. "It dipped below freezing. I had to make sure that he was warm enough."
"Firebird is ready for his ride. But I have to ask, why the glum face, Mr Blaine? You always look so happy before you set off for a ride."
"I was told this morning that my American cousin Rachel will be visiting Westerville for an extended stay. I'm really excited about that, but she is 18 years old and will be joining the London season to find a husband."
"There must be more to the story," Wesley replies, encouraging Blaine to continue.
"The thing is, I have to attend the London season as well. It means that I'll be away for three months in a city with no possibility of riding. You know how I much prefer the countryside to a dirty place like London. Besides, I'll miss Firebird...and you."
"We'll both miss you too, Mr Blaine. But before you know it, the three months will have passed in a blur and the London season will be over."
"I still hate the thought of being apart from Firebird for that long," Blaine pouts.
"You've got your pocket watch with you, Mr Blaine?"
Blaine chuckles, for he's well known to lose track of time during his morning rides, and Wesley is usually tasked with retrieving him for lunch. Blaine nods and then turns his focus on his black stallion. He pats Firebird's mane before mounting him and sets off in a gentle trot.
The 4,000-acre estate is considered to be on the smaller side compared to others dotted around Britain, but it's been the soul of the nearby rural community for generations. Blaine rides past several of the tenant farms along the way, waving back to farmers that he encounters. His father has always been a fair landowner, letting rents slip when the crops are poor, and holds celebrations for bumper harvests. His grandmother is the governor of the local village school, where Blaine studied until he was 12 years old. He made friends with the farm children as well as those from the village. It's a pity that he only sees them now at church on Sundays or village events, such as fetes and high dances.
Soon, Blaine enters a large field, laid bare and ready for food crops to be sown next spring, and clicks his boot spurs against Firebird, who immediately races into a gallop. Blaine loves the exhilaration he feels from the speed and the wind blowing across his face, in spite of the frosty weather. After thirty minutes, Blaine notices Firebird slow down ever so slightly. He's fine with that, because they are almost at his favorite spot on the estate. Blaine sits deep in the saddle, taking his legs off Firebird's sides, and pulls back on the left rein with one hand. Firebird immediately slows down to a walk as they make their way to the estate's lake.
Blaine jumps down from Firebird and immediately opens the saddlebag, taking out a heavy woolen blanket and the apple he snuck away at breakfast. He's delighted to find a bottle of ginger beer, and an additional parcel. When he opens up the white linen napkin, he licks his lips when he discovers a slice of fruitcake. Cook knows him well, and Blaine assumes she sent someone to the stables to sneak a special treat into his saddlebag.
After stroking Firebird's neck and feeding him the apple, Blaine sets out the old woolen tartan blanket under his favorite oak tree, which affords him an exceptional view of the lake and the undulating hillside beyond. Devonshire is famous for its rolling farmland that not only grows crops, but also has green pastures for cattle to graze. The Red Rubies produce milk so rich that people come from miles around to taste the special clotted cream. Devonshire is so linked with the family's history that his parents even gave him the middle name of 'Devon'.
This has always been Blaine's special spot on the estate - a place where he can escape the rigid formalities of his life and just be himself. It's the perfect place to daydream about the adventures he has read about in his books, and sing his favorite songs without Cooper turning them into duets.
Blaine sits on the blanket and tucks into the fruitcake. When he's finished, he takes a gulp of ginger beer and looks out onto the lake, where ducks are swimming along the eastern side. At some stage soon, he'll need to make a decision about his future. Convention dictates that Cooper will inherit the Westerville estate and enter politics, and Blaine has to make his own way in life.
Blaine's formal education finished in early December before Christmas, when he went to London and sat the competitive exams for the Indian Civil Service. At his mother's insistence, his father has also made inquiries about Blaine receiving a commission in the British cavalry. It could take up to a year to be offered the proper type of posting in either establishment. In the meantime, he's biding his time at home, keeping fit for whatever the future has in store.
Blaine isn't sure which option he prefers. His father's stories of the Boer War only instill fear into Blaine. On the other hand, he could become a district officer in the Indian Civil Service - if he passes the competitive exams - but that would mean he would have to leave Britain and all that he loves.
Blaine knows that he has been groomed for either of these positions throughout his formative years. Whilst Cooper attended Eton College to study and make a network of friends he would need later in life in the House of Lords, Blaine's life has been centered around Westerville. When Blaine turned 12 years old, he was pulled from the local village school, and Mr Schuester was employed as his tutor to teach him about the British Empire - its geography, history and other information needed to pass the Indian Civil Service exams. Although Mr Schuester was a kind man, he wasn't a scholar, and many hours were instead spent in the music room practicing the piano.
Blaine's summers were spent at the Royal Military Academy in Sandhurst, learning military tactics and fighting maneuvers on horses. His parents encouraged his polo as another way to hone his skills. Riding a horse is now second nature to him. He's prepared for whichever direction his future takes him.
Blaine takes the day-old bread ends from the saddlebag and heads down towards the lake. The ducks quickly swim over as he breaks bread chunks and hurls them into the water. Blaine knows that when he'll turn 18 years old in a few months' time, he'll be expected to attend the London season's events as well. And that means spending time with society ladies.
The truth is, Blaine doesn't know many girls his own age. After all, he has led a relatively sheltered life at Westerville. The girls in the local village are pleasant to him, but he doesn't socialize with them. The ladies he has met during their stays in London have been enjoyable to spend time with, but there is no-one whom he feels attracted to. Not like the romance he has often read about in novels. These books have taught him that he should feel a stirring deep inside when he finds his true love, but Blaine has not experienced this type of yearning.
Blaine only feels his stomach stir when he's around Sam, his father's valet. He's sure that these butterflies don't indicate a physical attraction, but rather a bonding with his closest friend. Sam has been part of his life ever since he can remember. When Blaine was six years old, his father returned from the Boer War, and Sam came to live at the abbey on his own. As children, they attended the same village school and Blaine secretly tutored Sam, who struggled with reading and maths… well, all subjects.
During the summers, they spent countless hours fishing in the streams, swimming in the lake, picking raspberries from the kitchen garden, and pilfering leftover sweets discovered hidden in the kitchen pantry. At night time, they would lie out on the croquet lawn and gaze at the thousands of stars, whispering about their secret hopes and fears. Sam has confided that he feels these stirrings when he's around Mercedes, the head housemaid, but is too shy let her know.
Blaine has become close friends with Jeff Sterling and Nick Duval during their summer training at Sandhurst. Both Jeff and Nick attend the academy all year round, and will receive their army commission upon graduation in July. Although they are infamous for their pranks, Blaine would trust his life with either of them on the battlefield. Blaine knows he doesn't feel any 'stirrings' for his friends at Sandhurst, so maybe he's not attracted to any girls because he hasn't met the right one yet. Blaine breaks out of his thoughts when he hears a horse's gait coming toward him.
"Blaine, I thought I'd find you here. You've already missed lunch!" Wesley shouts.
Blaine pulls out his pocket watch and is surprised that it's already three o'clock. He'll probably be late for afternoon tea. Although his mother would normally chastise him for poor timekeeping, he hopes that with her thoughts filled with Cousin Rachel and the Westerville Ball, she'll be more lenient today.
Author's notes
Let me know what you think so far. Can you imagine what life is like for a second son of an earl living on an English country estate in the 1910s? Can you appreciate the responsibilities and pressures that he might have?
Many thanks to my fantastic betas, Fearlessly and Lilyvandersteen. I'm HKVoyage on Tumblr and would love to chat to anybody about this story or Klaine (or you can send me a PM on this site).
Next up: A few surprises during dinner at Westerville Abbey.