While William and John were busy with estate management in the grand library, poring over ledgers and maps that sprawled across the mahogany table, Marguerite and the girls lounged casually in the sunlit drawing room of Avebury Manor. Seeing this as a perfect opportunity to engage with the girls and share some of her feminine wisdom, Marguerite decided to animate the afternoon. She always enjoyed a chance to bond but also to impart some of the knowledge and insights she had gathered over the years.
She was flipping through a Vogue magazine when she stumbled upon an interesting article.
"Oh, listen to this, girls." She said as her voice took a narrative tone. "A flapper was a casualty of the stock market crash of 1929. Out of her ashes rose the femme fatale. At night, she is a modern Diana, enveloped in envious cut satin dresses that sweep to the floor. By day, she may play with the surrealist fashion movement by Elsa Schiaparelli. Hemlines were getting longer before the great crash of 1929, and they fell to the floor after that debacle and stayed there, hopefully never to return."
She looked up from the magazine and shared her own sentiment. "I never did care much for those long hemlines. They always seemed to get in the way, especially at garden parties. Now, this is what I appreciate about modern fashion—dresses are not only shorter but also celebrate the female figure. They're practical yet chic, allowing freedom and a chance to show off one's legs!"
Marguerite continued to go through the magazine and stopped at a series of striking photographs that caught her attention. They diverged from the usual style seen in fashion magazines. They were casual and candid, captured in outdoor settings. One image showed a group of playful women holding hands and dancing in a circle. Another captured a an attractive young woman in a swimsuit relaxing on the beach. There was also a scene of a group of friends lounging, casually drinking beer from bottles. Another striking shot showcased a beautiful young woman dressed in a chic and fashionable white tennis outfit.
"Look at these. These are the works of someone named Antoinette Frissell. Aren't they wonderful?"
Isabelle and Priscilla leaned in closer, marveling at the artistic quality of the pictures.
"You know what?" Marguerite mused aloud. "I think I'll invite this Antoinette Frissell to our next gathering. She could capture some candid moments of the family. It would be wonderful to have such beautiful memories framed."
As the girls nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with her splendid idea, Marguerite closed the magazine and stood up with a graceful flourish.
"And now, I'll go order some sandwiches and non-alcoholic cocktails and we can have ourselves a lovely little picnic right here on our grounds. What do you say?"
When Marguerite left the room to place her orders, Priscilla turned to Isabelle and Juliette and said, "I find your mother utterly fascinating."
"She has her moments." Isabelle replied casually.
"Utterly fascinating." Priscilla repeated.
They spread a large blanket beneath the old oak tree - Simon the footman brought sandwiches and lemonade mixed with elderflower and sparkling water, while Marguerite brought out the wind-up gramophone and played a record filled with jazz hits from the 1930s.
Isabelle and Priscilla brought out dolls and played tea parties, while Juliette lay with her sunglasses on, perfectly content to just chill. Marguerite, meanwhile, had brought a book to read in the shade but found herself occasionally watching the girls and contemplating their interactions.
Isabelle was very fond of Priscilla—where Priscilla led, Isabelle was sure to follow. Though three years older, Priscilla was exceptionally gentle and kind to her younger companions. She liked to take charge, but her assertive and daring nature resonated with Isabelle, who had the very same spirit.
William, of course, was utterly smitten with Priscilla, and Marguerite didn't mind. Priscilla was smart, beautiful and from a good family. Her hair was a striking shade of red, a rich color that was naturally enviable and not easily replicated with dye. That would make for beautiful grandchildren, Marguerite thought. Then she quickly diverged her thoughts — she was too young to be thinking about grandchildren.
Juliette, on the other hand, was neither particularly fond nor averse towards Priscilla. She simply didn't give her much thought. Her greatest passion at this moment was her horse, and she would have spent every moment with him if she could.
"When will William be finished?" Priscilla asked, as she looked around.
"Oh, he'll be done when his lordship's enthusiasm finally wears off," Marguerite replied with a chuckle, "which could very well be never at this rate!"
Isabelle grinned at her. "You're so sweet when you call Daddy — his lordship."
"Well, it reminds me that he's not just the lord of this estate, but of my heart as well. Come to think of it, I think I'll go steal him for the afternoon and let William off his duties early so he can join you here."
As Marguerite stood to leave, Priscilla watched her with admiration. Marguerite was dressed in a pink summer dress that reached her knees, with short sleeves, a collar, and a modern light brown belt accentuating her waist. As she walked, she hummed along to the tune playing from the gramophone. Summertime, and the livin' is easy. Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high…
"Utterly fascinating." Priscilla repeated her earlier sentiment.
Marguerite entered the library and found her two favorite men deeply engrossed in their work. She moved closer to see what exactly had captured their attention so thoroughly.
"What have we here?" She asked, leaning over William's shoulder to get a better look.
Spread out in front of William were various formulas and diagrams.
William looked up with enthusiasm. "We're analyzing the estate's yield data from the past decade. I'm using statistical methods to predict the best crop rotations and planting schedules for the coming years."
"He's making significant headway," John said with pride. "With these predictions, we might very well enhance our whole financial outlook."
Marguerite nodded, impressed. "That sounds incredibly useful, William. Could you explain how exactly you're applying these calculations to our planning for next season?"
William hesitated at first, unsure of how much Marguerite would grasp the technical details.
"It might be too complex for you," he said cautiously.
"Humor me, oh great one."
"Alright. I've been applying what's called correlation analysis. Essentially, I look at the relationships between different factors like soil quality, rainfall, and our crop yields over the years. For instance, by analyzing how soil quality correlates with yield, I can determine which fields are most likely to produce the best results under specific weather conditions. This helps us decide where to focus our efforts and resources each season to optimize our output."
Marguerite nodded, clearly following along. "That makes perfect sense, William. It's a smart approach to ensure we're not just guessing but making informed decisions based on what the land has told us in the past. And just so you know, I understand mathematics much better than your father does. Especially cryptography, but that's a topic for another time."
"That she does." John confirmed with a nod. "Your mother has a sharp mind for numbers and secrets. She could out-cipher anyone in her day, and I dare say she still could. Not to mention she has been the brains behind many of our endeavors."
Marguerite approached John and embraced him, playfully slipping her hands under his unbuttoned shirt to caress his chest.
"Thank you for that endorsement, my love." She said as she planted a tender kiss on his cheek. "You're not so bad yourself. You've done a wonderful job here and I think you both definitely deserve a break."
"We've just a bit left to finish what we planned for today." John replied.
"Alright. You do that and I'm going to take a long refreshing bath. You are welcome to join me any time you're ready."
"Well, how could I possibly say no to that?"
Before heading upstairs, Marguerite playfully unbuttoned two more buttons on John's shirt. With a mischievous smile, she teased, "Wear your shirt like this. I like to see a little chest hair."
As Marguerite left the room, William watched his father with a wide grin, clearly delighted by how open and candid his parents were in their display of affection.
John caught his son's expression and responded with, "What can I say? Your mother knows how to make a valid point."
"You're a lucky man, Dad."
"Yes, but remember, William. Your mother didn't just fall from the sky. I traveled far and wide and faced many challenges and trials before I found her. She wasn't the first woman I loved, but she is the last, and the one I loved the most. Finding someone like your mother takes time and effort, but it's worth every bit of the journey."
William nervously shifted in his chair. "Dad, is there a subtext there?"
"What do you mean?"
William took a deep breath and clarified, "I mean, are you trying to tell me that my feelings for Priscilla are any less real because she's my first love?"
"Oh, no subtext, William," he said gently. "Every love story is unique. What I meant is that you should cherish the journey and the experiences along the way. If Priscilla is the one for you, then that's wonderful. Just remember that true love often involves overcoming challenges and growing together." He patted William's shoulder, his eyes filled with understanding. "Follow your heart, but don't rush it. The best things in life are worth waiting for and working towards."
The backside of Avebury Manor boasted a vast and sprawling garden that descended in terraced levels. It was adorned with beautiful pathways and colorful flowers, with a small fountain gracing the center. Stone steps led down through the garden, and as you reached the bottom, long stretches of lawn extended toward the rest of the estate.
The sun was slowly setting. John and Marguerite strolled hand in hand, enjoying the peace and beauty of the late afternoon. A little further away, William and Priscilla walked together, chatting and laughing softly. Around them, Isabelle skipped and frolicked in her floral summer dress, while Juliette was nowhere in the sight.
"Look at them," Marguerite said, nodding towards William and Priscilla. "They seem to be getting along quite well. I've also noticed he's more focused and driven when she's around."
"True. It's like she's sparked something in him, a new level of maturity or something." John agreed.
Marguerite squeezed John's hand. "It's wonderful to see them so happy. And who knows? Maybe one day, she could be a part of our family."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, but yes, it's a pleasant thought. It's funny, though. Just last year, you couldn't stand William spending time with Thalia. And now you're fully supportive of Priscilla, all because she's from civilization and a respectable family."
Marguerite laughed, giving John a playful nudge. "Well, can you blame me? Thalia was wild and unpredictable. Priscilla, on the other hand, has such grace and poise. It's hard not to appreciate the difference."
John shook his head with a chuckle. "I always liked Thalia. She had spirit and strength. It's not about where someone comes from but who they are. But I understand your point. Priscilla does seem to bring out the best in him."
As they descended to the lower levels of the garden, they spotted Juliette on her horse. She was riding bareback, and as she drew closer, they noticed she was also barefoot.
Marguerite was the first to speak. "Juliette, what on earth are you doing riding without a saddle? And barefoot, no less!"
"I like it this way. It's more natural."
"It's also more dangerous," John said. "Riding without a saddle can lead to serious accidents, especially without proper footwear."
Juliette, feeling a bit defensive, replied, "I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I'm careful."
"That's not enough." John added. "If you don't want to lose this privilege, you'll need to do as we say. From now on, you will ride only with proper equipment and attire. Do we have an agreement?"
"Yes, we do..."
"Where are your sandals?" Marguerite asked.
Juliette looked down at her bare feet and shrugged slightly. "Oops, I don't know where I took them off..."
"Nevermind, someone will find them tomorrow. I think you've done enough riding for today." She then turned to John and said. "Darling, please carry her back to the house. I don't want her stepping on something or entering the house with dirty feet."
John extended his arms, and Juliette gracefully jumped down from the horse into his embrace. At that moment, Peter, the stableman, appeared, and Marguerite handed him Prince Charming's reins to take the horse back to the stable.
As he carried her towards the house, John turned towards Marguerite and said, "She's getting taller and heavier every day. Do you remember when I could easily carry both of them, one in each arm, as if they were feathers?"
"Yes, those days flew by. I can hardly imagine you trying that now."
Isabelle noticed the group and ran towards them. She looked at her sister and asked, "What happened? Where are your shoes? Did you trade them for a magic bean or something?"
"Your sister took her adventurous spirit a bit too far today," Marguerite replied.
"She's such a baby." Isabelle teased.
"I'm not a baby! I'm an explorer. There's a difference." Juliette replied.
As they walked towards the house, Isabelle embraced Marguerite, wrapping her arm around her mother's waist, while Marguerite's arm rested gently around Isabelle's shoulders.
"Oh, mother, Priscilla is so wonderful. Can we keep her?" Isabelle asked.
Marguerite laughed softly. "She is not a puppy. She's a young lady, with her own life."
"Maybe we can trade her for Juliette," she suggested playfully.
"Maybe we can trade you!" Juliette retorted.
"No one is up for trade in this family." Marguerite intervened smoothly. "We treasure everyone equally. Now, let's get inside. Dinner will be served soon."
The family slowly made their way inside to enjoy dinner together. There was a special activity planned afterward. William had mentioned earlier that there was a high chance of seeing numerous shooting stars that night due to a cosmic event, and the family was eager to witness it.
After dinner, they brought out the telescope and set it up in the garden, where the open sky stretched vast and clear above them. Sure enough, as the night wore on, the sky did not disappoint. Streaks of light dashed across the heavens, each shooting star sparking excitement and wonder among them as they took turns peering through the telescope.