Wearing British clothes as a second-generation aristocrat

After settling all the trivial matters in Lisbon, settling accounts at the dock, replenishing the cargo and fresh water, the Ceylon once again raised its sails and set sail, heading straight for the British Isles with the help of the steady westerly winds in the Atlantic.

A few days later, the mouth of the Thames River came into view in the distance.

The port of London is a bustling hub of activity, with towering masts, sprawling docks, and busy port constructions.

After months of drifting at sea, the Ceylon, guided by its pilot, steadily entered the main port area of ​​London, slowly anchored, and docked.

The long ocean voyage has now come to a complete end.

The dockside was bustling with people and vehicles.

After months of rough seas, Dugan felt a little out of place when he finally stepped onto land.

He looked up and stared intently, hoping to spot a familiar figure among the countless people welcoming his relatives and friends.

Sure enough, in the best-viewed spot in the port area, a young servant in a neat dark uniform came into Dugan's view.

He is Dugan's personal servant, Aldo.

"Young Master, you're back safe and sound!" Aldo saw Dugan and rushed over to take the luggage from Dugan's hands.

Since receiving the approximate departure date of the Ceylon, the old count has had Aldo wait at the dock, and today marks four full days, rain or shine, without fail.

They arrive at the port before dawn every day and don't leave until all the ships have come to a stop in the deep of night, eagerly awaiting their master's return.

"The carriage is right outside," Aldo said.

"Long time no see, Aldo." Dugan stepped forward and hugged Aldo.

Although Aldo is a servant, he grew up with Dugan and the two have a deep bond as master and servant.

Afterwards, Aldo, carrying his luggage, walked briskly out of the bustling port area with Dugan and boarded their own carriage.

The horses' hooves clattered and the wheels rolled, speeding through the bustling streets of London, away from the noisy port area, towards the family manor in the suburbs.

More than half an hour later, the familiar outline of the manor slowly emerged.

The gatekeeper saw his carriage approaching from afar and opened the gate early to welcome it.

The carriage came to a stop, and Dugan had just stuck one foot out of the carriage when he heard a shout.

"My God, my son is back." A familiar figure rushed out to greet them; it was Dugan's mother, Mrs. Maria.

During Dugan's time serving in India, she worried about her son who was far away day and night, and shed countless tears.

"Mom!" Dugan's eyes also welled up with tears, and he hugged Mrs. Maria.

"Let me see!" Mrs. Maria cupped Dugan's face in her hands, kissed him several times, and then examined him closely.

The once fair-skinned and handsome young man, repeatedly tempered by the scorching sun of South Asia and the sea breeze of the Atlantic Ocean, became dark and rugged. Although his figure became more upright, his face became noticeably thinner.

Soon, Mrs. Maria noticed the fresh scar on Dugan's cheek.

It runs diagonally from the corner of the eye all the way to the ear.

As a mother, Mrs. Maria couldn't hold back her emotions at this moment.

Her voice choked and trembled: "He's lost weight, gotten so dark, and is so badly injured... My child, he must have suffered so much out there. God, those damned barbarians!"

Dugan felt a warmth in his heart, raised his hand to gently comfort his mother, and said in a soft voice, "Mother, it's just a minor injury. God has always been by my side. You see, I'm all right and I'm back safely."

A soft cough was heard.

Dugan looked up and saw his father, Earl Oris, standing on the high steps, looking down at him.

The old man still had the stern look of a father who never smiled, but Dugan could see that his eyes were very gentle and kind.

Dugan remained silent, as did Count Oris.

The father and son just looked at each other like that.

Oris watched his son, who seemed to have been reborn, quietly for a long time before speaking slowly. His tone was still deliberately calm, but it no longer had the harshness and sternness of the past.

"It's good to be back. Come in!"

Then, the old man turned and walked away, one hand behind his back.

Dugan was somewhat amused and exasperated; this was just an old British aristocrat who loved to show off.

Even when facing her own son, she had to maintain a certain air of authority.

Of course, he couldn't see that just as the old man turned to go inside, he secretly wiped the corner of his eye.

Although it was 1804, and although Napoleon's Continental System had caused shortages of supplies.

However, thanks to Britain's powerful navy, the supply of goods to the British Isles remained stable.

The Conba family's lunch is at 1 p.m.

The restaurant features a long walnut dining table covered with a cream-colored linen tablecloth. Silver cutlery and carved stemmed glasses are arranged in a row, with a glass fruit platter and fresh herbs in the center of the table. Hot dishes simmer in the fireplace, and several male servants in servant uniforms stand on both sides, ready to serve.

Lunch consists of four courses: appetizer, main meat dish, side dish, and dessert.

The appetizer is a cold platter consisting of marinated Scottish salmon, pickled anchovies, and thinly sliced ​​smoked ham, served with pickles and marinated olives, and accompanied by homemade cider.

The two main meat dishes are the highlights of the day. One is slow-cooked Yorkshire lamb, braised with rosemary and onions until tender. The other is roast chicken, with the chicken cavity stuffed with bread crumbs, celery and dried raisins, and the skin brushed with butter and roasted until shiny.

The sight of the mutton knife reminded Mrs. Maria of the scar on Dugan's face.

"That damned barbarian, Dugan's handsome face is ruined!" Mrs. Maria said with concern. "Won't the ladies who arrange these blind dates mind?"

Mrs. Mary began to mutter to herself.

Oris, the father, said impatiently, "Enough, Maria. Our son is a soldier. He has the blood of the Connaught family, not some rental boy from the White Swan on Verdun Street. No need for embellishment!"

Lady Mary immediately turned hostile and said angrily, "For God's sake, if you ever again use such vulgar language to associate with our son, I'm going back to my family home in Birmingham."

The old count could only raise his hands and shake his head in surrender.

"Rent-a-boy" was the term Londoners used to refer to male prostitutes during that era. Male prostitutes in London at that time were mainly concentrated in the city center, the West End entertainment district, and the South Bank of the Thames. They would wander around sporadically during the day and gather in fixed streets with male brothels or gay brothels at night.

There was a club called "The White Swan" on Verde Street in London. Although it was called a club, it was actually a high-end male prostitution establishment. It had beds and dressing rooms in the basement and was the most famous high-end male brothel at the time.

Following the meat dishes were seasonal vegetables, including boiled green peas, roasted parsnip roots, braised cabbage, and a plate of mashed potatoes.

As lunch drew to a close, the servants began serving dessert: lemon pudding, candied berries, and a plate of crusty cheeses, with diced cheddar and Stilton cheeses arranged on the plate.

There were two kinds of wine. The servant first poured half a glass of Bordeaux red wine for the old count and the young master.

Then, a glass of light cider was poured for the hostess, Mrs. Maria.

Mrs. Maria raised her glass. "Thank God for Dugan's safe return."

"Thank God," Orlis said, raising his glass as well.

"Thank God," Dugan said, raising his glass in a toast.