As the afternoon wore on, Clara watched their unconventional family, Edmund and Gabriel arguing about politics while building increasingly unstable block towers for the children to destroy, Margaret teaching the twins to make flower crowns while discussing revolutionary ideas about women's education, Mrs. Potter arriving with tea and staying to share gossip, Peter and Mary sneaking glances at each other when they thought no one was looking ,there would be another wedding soon, Clara was certain.
He kissed her paying no heed to their company, and when they separated, both were smiling.
"Your Grace! My Lady!" Peter appeared, slightly out of breath. "You have a visitor."
"If it's Lord Pemberton, release the hounds," Gabriel said.
"We don't have hounds," Clara pointed out.
"Then release James. He's more terrifying than hounds."
"It's not Lord Pemberton," Peter said, his expression odd. "It's Lady Agatha."
Everyone went silent except for James, who chose that moment to shriek "FROG!" at the top of his lungs.
"Perfect timing, small destroyer," Gabriel muttered.
Lady Agatha appeared in the garden entrance, resplendent in purple silk that somehow managed to be even more purple than usual, like she'd concentrated all the purple in England into one dress. She surveyed the scene with the half-naked muddy children, the adults in various states of dishevelment, the wild gardens and Clara waited for the condemning pronouncement.
Instead, Lady Agatha said, "So this is what happiness looks like. How terrifyingly informal."
"Aunt Agatha," Gabriel said, standing but keeping Clara on his lap in what was definitely a defensive position. "How unexpected."
"I wrote that I was coming."
"I thought that was a threat, not a promise."
"Must you be difficult?"
"Must you be purple?"
They glared at each other while James, sensing drama, toddled over to investigate the newcomer. He stood before Lady Agatha, still clutching his frog, with the tablecloth sliding off one shoulder, and declared, "No!"
"Is that his opinion of me or a general statement?" Lady Agatha asked dryly.
"Could be both," Gabriel suggested.
Lady Agatha studied James with the intensity of someone examining a potentially dangerous specimen. James studied her back with equal intensity, then, in a move no one expected, offered her his frog.
"For me?" Lady Agatha asked, seeming genuinely surprised.
"Frog!" James confirmed.
She accepted the frog with surprising dignity. "Thank you, young man. It's a very fine frog."
"It's the highest honor he can bestow," Clara said. "He doesn't share his frogs with just anyone."
"Clearly he has discerning taste," Lady Agatha said, then added, "Unlike his father, who wedded his housekeeper."
"His father wedded the woman he loved," Gabriel said coldly.
"Same thing, apparently." But there was less venom in it than Clara expected.
Lady Agatha sat down uninvited, still holding the frog with surprising comfort. "I suppose you're all waiting for me to say something cutting about this entire situation."
"The thought had occurred," Edmund said.
"Well, I'm not going to. I'm too old and tired to maintain feuds with people who are clearly too stubborn to be properly feuded with."
