The accent threw William a little but he rallied and focused more intently. He'd been expecting some foppish idiot, or maybe some rich kid looking to use his son. Davin seemed like neither of those things.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Kavanagh." William said, grudgingly taking the young mans proffered hand. "And yes. When I instruct my children in the correct way to perform a task, the lessons tend to stay learned." The texture of Davins hands gave him a little more information. They were rough, workers hands. Somewhat like the gardeners when William shook the mans hand when he gave out the annual bonus cheques. Trade, then, not blue collar.

He sniffed. "Did you meet my son in your line of work or his?"