This story takes place shortly after "From Avalon to Avebury," where I introduced my custom characters.
Life was idyllic in Avebury during the spring of 1924. Ned and Veronica had been Marguerite and John's guests for a few weeks now, thoroughly enjoying the unique allure of the English countryside. While they did make trips to London, the charm of the countryside held a special place. From hunting and horse racing to polo matches and cricket games, there was never a dull moment.
Ned was eagerly invested in the estate management which fascinated him so much that he became John's unofficial agent, attending his meetings and more. Specifically, the life of the English aristocracy in the 1920s intrigued him so much that he began to keep a journal of their upstairs life and the dedicated service of those downstairs.
One lovely evening, Marguerite's biological family, the Blackwells, came for a visit so Veronica and Ned could meet them, and they brought along cousin Bernard for Marguerite to meet. He was the heir to her father's title, for Lord Robert had no sons of his own. The following day promised a fox hunt, a luncheon, and an evening soiree—a gathering of close friends and extended family.
"Marguerite, this is our cousin Bernard." Emily introduced him with a casual air.
Bernard was one of those people who were instantly likable, known for his lighthearted approach to life. A man who, despite his occasional naiveté, harbored a depth of loyalty that rarely went unnoticed.
"It's a pleasure, Bernard. You're the first cousin I've met so far." Marguerite said, extending a warm welcome.
"The pleasure is mine, cousin. And worry not," Bernard assured her, "Emily has told me all about the Lost World and about you, but my lips are sealed."
"Bernard has been staying with us. Father's been teaching him what awaits him when he becomes a lord, though it seems Bernard's more focused on the fun aspects." Emily explained.
Bernard replied with a smile, "She's only teasing."
Lady Catherine defended him. "Bernard has shown a great promise. Robert speaks so highly of him. He's also quite adept at hunting, which I'm sure he'll demonstrate tomorrow. Also, his friend, Colin Fletcher is joining us. He's Viscount Sterling's son and heir. Emily will ride with him."
Emily rolled her eyes, "Oh, Mother. I'll have my own friends to entertain tomorrow. I won't have time for others."
"Which friends?" Catherine inquired.
"You wouldn't know them. They're not from your circles. Mostly poets and philosophers that I've met at Oxford. Someone I can have intellectual conversations with," Emily explained.
Lord Robert added, "I think Catherine regrets that we allowed Emily to pursue a real education. She's no longer interested in social functions or finding a suitable husband. Now, she's only interested in spending time with intellectuals."
"Well, naturally. I never had anything in common with the snobs anyway." Emily stated plainly.
Malone, intrigued, asked, "What are you studying, Emily?"
"Psychology."
Malone replied. "That's really modern. I've recently delved into some of Carl Jung's works myself. It's a fascinating field."
Emily's eyes lit up with shared enthusiasm. "Indeed, it is. So much so that I'm considering pursuing a career after my studies."
"Don't be idiotic, Emily." Lady Catherine said.
Veronica, puzzled, entered the conversation, "I don't understand. What's wrong with psychology?"
"There's nothing wrong with the psychology per se." Emily said, a touch of frustration coloring her tone. "But real ladies and gentlemen don't engage in professions or, heaven forbid, academia. It's considered somewhat... unseemly. The expectation is to marry well and manage the estates, perhaps indulge in charitable activities. But never work."
Catherine replied "Emily, must you paint our traditions in such a negative light? You're going to give Veronica and Ned a wrong impression."
Malone said, "Don't worry, Lady Kenneth. There's no chance of that happening. By the way, it's really striking how much you three look alike. The resemblance is uncanny. The hair, the eyes... How come you never made that connection, John?"
John admitted, "How could I, when I've never thought about them in that regard?"
Marguerite teased, "Men fail to notice such details. Unless they're journalists, of course."
Catherine gently took Marguerite's hand and said, "But that's irrelevant now. What matters is that we've found each other."
Marguerite and Catherine shared a fond look. Moments like these always filled Marguerite with incredible happiness. She felt incredibly blessed to have such an amazing and graceful woman as a mother. After years of separation, every interaction with her felt so soothing and heartwarming, as if each interaction healed old wounds and bridged the gap that time had created. With each passing day they grew closer and closer. Yes, life was indeed beautiful.