Marguerite approached an old piano that stood in the drawning room, running her fingers lightly over the worn keys before pressing a few of them down. The sound that emerged was off-key and jarring.
She turned to Lady Elizabeth, who was visiting and asked, "When was the last time this piano was played?"
"It was played quite a long time ago, by my late husband's sister. A more disagreeable woman never graced this earth. The only time I particularly enjoyed her company was when she was at this piano. At least then she didn't talk."
Marguerite let out a soft chuckle, her eyes dancing with amusement at Lady Elizabeth's cheeky remembrance.
"Oh, Mama. You were always so strict with Aunt Agnes." John said.
Lady Elizabeth just raised an eyebrow, her playful smirk revealing that her earlier comment was made more in jest than earnest.
Marguerite ran her fingers gently over the keys once more, the discordant notes resonating throughout the room. "We really should get this piano tuned."
John sighed. "Alright, if it pleases you, I will have it done. Though, with everything going on in the manor, it isn't at the top of my priority list."
"Well, it might climb up that list when you hear my plans. I've spoken to the local school's music teacher. He's agreed to come by and teach William a few tunes."
"Marguerite, I understand your drive, but I thought we already agreed on this. We were going to introduce new activities gradually as he grows, not rush him too much."
"Oh, a touch of music never hurt anyone." Lady Elizabeth chimed in. "It would be nice to hear these walls echoing with melodies. However, I must admit, this new-age concept of proper education, that you are so keen on discussing these days, does bewilder me. In my time, being able to manage an estate and shoot straight were the marks of a well-educated person."
"Times evolve, Mama. And with them, our ideas about what children should be exposed to."
Marguerite, sensing a turning tide, added, "Imagine the richness the piano could bring to William's life. A touch of culture, a hint of creativity."
"Alright, Marguerite. If you insist, we'll ensure the piano is tuned."
As their discussion drew to a close, the elegant double doors opened, revealing the nanny in her crisp uniform. She pushed a polished stroller, where the twins lay, bundled up, their soft faces peeking out from soft blankets. "I thought it would be nice for the little ones to get some fresh air."
Lady Elizabeth, always charmed by her grandchildren, leaned over to offer a light tickle to each of the babies, earning a coo from one and a sleepy yawn from the other.
"Such blessings, these two." She commented fondly.
William, trailing behind the nanny, walked into the room with a childlike grace that only emphasized his youth. His bright eyes scanned the room, settling on the faces of his family members.
Marguerite bent down, opening her arms. "There's my clever boy."
William, giggling, rushed to her, hugging her waist and then moving to offer a hug to John and a polite nod to his grandmother.
Lady Elizabeth smiled at him. "How do you do, young man?"
William straightened up, trying to mimic the grown-up demeanor he so often observed. "Very well, thank you, Granny."
"William, darling, why don't you read something to your Granny?" Marguerite asked.
William looked towards the table by the window where the newly published children's book Winnie the Pooh lay. He toddled over to the table, grasping the book in his small hands and brought it over to where they sat.
Lady Elizabeth adjusted her seating, displaying a gentle encouragement. "Let's see what you've learned."
With a deep breath, William began to read:
"Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump…on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it. And then he feels that perhaps there isn't. Anyhow, here he is at the bottom, and ready to be introduced to you. Winnie-the-Pooh."
Lady Elizabeth clapped her hands. "Well done! That was wonderful!"
"He's been practicing diligently." Marguerite said.
"Yes, we are very proud." John said. "But we're also trying not to be overbearing. A few children's stories and tunes should be alright, I believe."
William's attention span was typically that of a three-year-old, and soon his fascination with the story waned. He closed the book and asked, "Can we go outside now?"
Marguerite gently took his hand. "Of course, darling. Let's go find Ned and Veronica."
The gardens were alive with laughter and spirited play. Veronica and Ned chased gleeful William, who was thoroughly enjoying every moment of the attention he was getting. The nanny gently pushed the stroller along a gravel path.
John, having bid farewell to his mother, descended the steps and entered this picturesque scene. Spotting Marguerite standing by a rose bush, he headed towards her.
Linking her arm with John's, Marguerite leaned in, her voice a contented whisper. "I think we're doing alright, aren't we?"
"We are, my love. Every day is a lesson. We learn, adapt, and grow. As parents, as partners."
"You're right. Sometimes I get lost in the possibilities of what could be, that I forget the beauty of what is."