One for sorrow, two for joy.

Five years later … 

Late spring sunshine warmed the gardens at Kennington Manor. Isabella walked through the walled herb garden with her tiny four-year-old daughter dancing along beside her. 

Juno, their spaniel raced ahead, before returning to check they were still there. 

“Can we go to the lake, Mama?” cried Marguerite, named after the tiny resilient daisy. 

“Not today, my love. Papa will take you tomorrow. Uncle Peter and Aunt Penelope are visiting with baby Nathaniel to celebrate Papa’s birthday. You can visit the island if you want.”

“When I’m older I’m going to build a den there. I’ll be able to row myself out.”

“When you’re much older than four years old that sounds a fun thing to do.” Little Marguerite was always looking for adventures and getting herself into trouble. Isabella delighted that the little girl had confidence and enjoyed exploring everything in life. 

“We’re going to plant some wildflower seeds in each corner of this walled garden. The birds will visit, and in midsummer we should have lots of butterflies. You can help me plant the seeds. I gathered them last Autumn, and all we need to do is sprinkle them where the gardener has already raked the soil ready for us.” Isabella got the small packets of carefully labelled seeds and showed them to Marguerite.

“Can Juno help?”

“She can watch. Dogs have a habit of digging up seeds, rather than planting them,” Isabella laughed, as she threw a stick for the spaniel to chase. 

After they had sewn the first corner with seeds, Marguerite insisted that she knew exactly what to do and didn’t need any help. Her eyes, so like her mother’s, shone brightly in the sunshine, as she concentrated on shaking the seeds across the soil ready for a display of wildflowers in summer. 

“Look Mama,” she said excitedly. “That Jenny wren is building her nest in the garden again.”

“We must look out for the robin that fed from your fingers last year. I think Uncle Henry and Aunt Althea would be interested in meeting Master Robin Redbreast.”  

“Can I go and find them? They will finish breakfast soon.” Isabella could see her daughter planning what she needed to do that day. “I must bring Nanny and show her where we’ve planted the seeds. She told me a story about a robin and a giant last week.” 

“That sounds very interesting.” 

“The robin became the giant’s best friend,” Marguerite continued. “They lived in a castle a little like the ruined one at Drayton Park.”

Isabella shuddered as she remembered the evening when she had delivered the ransom money to that castle. Yet Everett was right, they had so many happy childhood memories in that castle that they could not let that one evening ruin it.

Isabella had taken on Maisie’s sister Katherine as nursery maid, and then made her officially Nanny, and it had proved a great success. Maisie had married one of the tenant farmers at Drayton Park but often rode over in her gig to see Isabella and Marguerite. 

“Oh, look Mama, there’s Papa in the far corner of the meadow. Can I run to him?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll finish sewing these last seeds and come to find you. You can take Juno with you if you like. 

“Can I? Juno, come with me,” Marguerite called racing off towards Everett, who was sketching a group of willow trees in the far corner of the meadow. 

She liked how he’d transformed this field into a Medieval meadow filled with ox eye daisies and then poppies later in the season. Marguerite liked the corncockle and bluebonnets best and knew all the names of the wildflowers. 

As Isabella wandered through the aromatic garden, she wondered about planting a special tisane bed. They took tea with fresh chamomile leaves, but it would be good to have dried leaves in the winter. 

At that moment Uncle Henry and Aunt Althea appeared at the garden gate. Althea who usually looked bright in the mornings looked upset about something. She moved quickly towards them to see what had happened. 

“Oh, my dear, it’s nothing to worry about. It’s my own foolish thoughts. Just being anxious about being away for so long.”

Althea looked around her. “You’ve made a lovely job of recreating this ancient meadow. We must do the same at Drayton Park. I love to see the flowers. I can’t wait to see the different ones in Portugal.”

“I’m glad you’re staying at the vineyard,” Isabella told them. “It’s a very special place. If you walk along the stream, you’ll come to a waterfall with a hidden pool which you can swim in. It’s summer, so it will be warm enough to swim.”

“I can’t wait,” Althea, couldn’t hide her excitement and worry at the same time. “Three months in Portugal.”

 Uncle Henry was equally enthusiastic for the journey. “Althea, remind me to thank him again for his generosity to allow us to stay there for so long.”

“Uncle Henry, Aunt Althea,” called out Marguerite, running up to meet them. “Papa was sketching the Willow trees, but now he’s sketching me.” 

“Let’s go and see what he’s doing,” suggested Althea. 

“Come along,” Marguerite tugged at Althea’s arm. 

They all gathered around Everett, looking at his sketch of Marguerite. 

“Does it look like me?” She cried. “If it does then I look like a princess,” Marguerite added proudly.

“Marguerite, you are a princess,” said her father in mock seriousness, “and we must all bow before you.” 

“Let me see your sketch of Marguerite,” Isabella peered at his sketchbook. “You’ve captured her personality in a few strokes of charcoal. I love it.”

“Uncle Henry says I can ride a pony when we go to Drayton Park for the wedding. Can I? Please say yes,” Marguerite was jumping up and down with excitement.

Isabella smiled at her. “Of course, you can. 

“When will aunt Penelope, Uncle Peter, and Aunt Clarissa arrive?” asked Marguerite. “I wish baby Nathaniel was old enough to play with. He just wants to run around, and he never knows the rules of the games.”

“He’s growing older, and he likes you chasing him,” Isabella assured her.

“Are we having a picnic Mama?”

“We are indeed, down by the lake.”

As they walked back towards the house, Marguerite skipped alongside Uncle Henry and Althea. 

Everett spoke quietly to Isabella. “There’s something I wanted to tell you. It’s not pleasant news.”

“Oh really, that doesn’t sound good.”

“I went to visit Lady Moreton last week. You know I go every six months or so to check they’re treating her well. I don’t know why but I somehow feel responsible for her welfare.”

“It’s because you know her, and you’re the magistrate.”

“Something like that, certainly. She isn’t doing well. The last couple of times I’ve visited she’s thought I’m either her father or Lawrence. They don’t think she’ll make it through the next winter. She’s very frail and retreated into her own world soon after the trial.”

“I still see her as that rather loud, often rude lady who thought of herself before others. Except where Lawrence was concerned, and she would do anything to make sure he was happy,” Isabella said quietly, reaching for her husband’s hand. “I don’t think I’d have got along very well with her son if I’d married Lawrence. We would have clashed continually. I have the greatest admiration for Althea, living as her companion for several years. I cannot imagine it.”

“I’ll go and see her again in the Autumn,” Everett told her. “But I think that will be the last time.”

Isabella sighed. “It’s such a sorry business, we’ll never know what compelled Lawrence to keep taking wagers and lose his home.”

Everett looked up. “I think I hear a carriage arriving. It must be Peter and Penelope.”

“Well, that will cheer us up,” Isabella smiled. “Marguerite’s hoping that Nathaniel will be old enough to play with her.”

‘He should be old enough to chase after her now,” laughed Everett. “We can get out the sandbox for them to play in, and they’ll both enjoy splashing on the pebble beach.”

Penelope alighted from the carriage, turning to help down the heavily pregnant Clarissa. Peter and Clarissa’s husband, Sir George Middleton, had ridden over and were dismounting. The nursery maid followed Clarissa with little Nathaniel, who insisted on walking and not being carried. 

“He’s growing up so quickly,” Isabella looked at him in surprise. 

“He knows your name now,” Penelope told Isabella. “He calls Marguerite, Mageet. It’s rather endearing.”

“Come inside and rest,” Isabella urged Clarissa. 

“I will for a short time,” agreed Clarissa. “But Marguerite assures me we’re going on a picnic. It does me good to walk.”

Later, as they walked slowly towards the lake, Penelope started to teach Marguerite a song about a magpie. The handsome bird with some blue feathers who liked to collect shiny objects. 

“I swear that Penelope has a song for every occasion,” Isabella told Clarissa.  

“When is Everetts’s next exhibition? George is keen to go. As you know we met at your art exhibition. You could say we fell in love over art.”

Isabella smiled, remembering that day. “It will be in Bath over the winter months.”

“We could all go to Bath together,” Clarissa suggested. 

“I’d like that very much.” 

“Oh look, Uncle Henry is giving the children more of those carved animals. That will keep them occupied for a good long time.” 

“Once we’re at the lake Peter will make sure the children enjoy splashing about. It’s a perfect day for a picnic. How are you doing? she asked Clarissa. 

“I’m fine. I’ve another two months to go, and they are sending a gig to take me back to the house. I enjoy walking, but it can be tiring.”

“You look well. Married life must suit you?” Isabella told her.

“We’re very happy. How strange that I always thought that I’d meet my true love at a ball or recital, and it happened at Everett’s art exhibition.”

“There’s the lake,” said Isabella. “We’re almost there, and I know Cook has sent down lemonade and ice. I love our picnics.”

“Peter and George suggested that they take both rowing boats over to the island.” 

Marguerite had overheard them and showed her excitement, almost jumping up and down with glee.

Everett and Peter pushed out the boats and Peter climbed in the first one, ready to row it over to the island. ‘We might find treasure,” called Marguerite. 

Isabella remembered how excited Marguerite had been at the prospect of pirates when they were talking. 

Her imagination is quite remarkable, we just live in a world of fairies, giants and elves. 

Little Nathaniel was more interested in pointing at the ducks, and she heard Penelope singing a sea song to her son as they sailed towards the island.

“It looks like it’s just us,” said Everett. “That’s quite a surprise.”

“You’re right it doesn’t happen very often,” she laughed.

“I sketched you and Marguerite earlier, and I think it’s one of my better attempts. I’ll say it myself, but I think I’ve caught the essence of both of you in the drawing.”

“You must show me. Is it in your sketchbook?”

He nodded. “I have quite a collection now.”

“Well, you’re not putting on an exhibition of me, Everett,” Isabella exclaimed. 

“That’s a shame, Isabella, as I think that could be the most successful exhibition I’ve done so far.”

“It’s definitely not happening,” she persisted. “An occasional portrait, but not a whole exhibition.”

“Very well my love I shall live with the disappointment.”

“Clarissa looks well. She suggested we join them in Bath for your exhibition.”

“What an excellent idea. I look forward to that. I do miss seeing my sister every day.”

“There’s something else to look forward to,” she told him, her voice quiet.

“At the moment I’m rather enjoying some quiet space and time with my wife. It doesn’t happen often enough these days.”

“We need to do something about that before the baby arrives,” she told him in a matter-of-fact voice. 

Everett looked at Isabella in awe. “A baby … oh my love that’s delightful news.” 

“I thought this morning of that old rhyme.” 

“One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, and four for a boy.”

“I have seen four magpies today, so I suspect we might have a boy this time.”

“It doesn’t matter; I’d be happy with another little girl.”

“It looks like they’re returning. Yes, there are the boats setting off from the island.”

“Let’s make the most of these quiet few minutes,” he suggested, a playful grin on his face. 

He drew Isabella close in a gentle embrace, his hands cradling her face as he lifted it to share a light kiss. “I still can’t believe I have you in my life. Yet every morning I wake up and there you are with your face on the pillow next to me. 

“And you’re there in my dreams, as well as in my waking hours. I feel excited about this new chapter of our life. Everything feels good, and I savour every moment we spend together.”

His lips found hers, and he heard her sigh, and their kiss deepened as her lips responded to his and they celebrated their love and the strong, enduring connection between them.

The End