Chapter 7

"Put the snail down, Georgie," Agnes said to her little brother, who was crouched next to some shrubs, utterly fascinated by a snail he'd found. Her voice was gentle, trying not to startle him or the creature he was so intently focused on.

Agnes had decided to take advantage of the lovely weather three days later by going to the park with her brothers. The sun was bright, and a gentle breeze teased the leaves of the trees, making it the perfect day to be out of doors.

"But I want to take it home," George protested, his face scrunched up in a pout, the snail safely cradled in his small hands as if it were a precious treasure.

"I refuse to share a carriage with that thing!" Harry cried out in horror, taking a step back as if the mere thought of being in close quarters with the snail was the most dreadful thing imaginable.

"Do not fret, dear. We are not taking it with us," Agnes whispered, trying to soothe Harry's fears without alarming him further.

"I heard that, Agnes," came George's sharp retort, his young ears missing nothing, not even the whispered exchanges meant to go unheard.

Philip snickered at the unfolding drama, tucking the book he had been reading and rising from the bench. Harry glared at his older brother. Amidst this, Agnes found herself struggling to maintain her composure, the corners of her mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. Many of the afternoons they spent together looked like this, but each was unique and treasured.

"Well, you heard correctly, George. The snail cannot come home with us," Agnes stated firmly, her voice leaving no room for negotiation.

"But—" George began, his protest cut short by Agnes's gentle interruption.

"Would you like to be taken to a strange place full of strangers, Georgie?"

"No. I want to remain with Harry. And you, and Mother, and Philip," George replied.

"That little snail feels the same," Agnes pointed out. "This is its home. It probably has its family here, too. It wouldn't want to leave either," she added, watching as understanding dawned in George's eyes.

Reluctantly, George set the creature down, his actions slow and thoughtful. Harry's sigh of relief was loud, and this time, Philip couldn't contain his laughter. "I must confess that I had been looking forward to seeing how Harry would share the carriage with the snail."

"Do not be mean, Philip!" Agnes gave him a nudge, while Harry folded his arms and stormed off to sit on the bench that Philip had vacated.

"To think that I wasn't invited to this interesting affair," s familiar voice interrupted the moment, causing a sudden silence to fall over them.

Agnes whipped around, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of Theodore standing there, a playful smirk on his face.

"You came, nevertheless," she responded dryly.

The smile on Theodore's face did not falter as his curious gaze traveled from one giggling boy beside her to the next. Agnes went on to introduce the children to him. "This is Philip Travers, Marquess of Winfield. Lord Harry Travers," she beckoned Harry from his seat, "and Lord George Travers."

Philip puffed his chest out when he was introduced, standing straighter in a very obvious attempt to appear more manly and worthy of his title, before bowing politely. George copied his brother, and Harry was more composed and reserved.

"Boys," Agnes continued, "This is the Marquess of Gillingham."

George gasped. "Your husband."

"Future husband!" Harry corrected, smiling as if he had scored a point higher than his brother.

Theodore's brows rose and he met her eyes. "Do not mind them," she said quickly. "People talk, and they hear."

"Mama said you are going to be her husband," George said.

Agnes cleared her throat. Theodore did not look perturbed in the least. In fact, he laughed. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen."

The boys stood straighter at his address. Before there was room for further conversation, George took a hold of Theodore's sleeve and asked, "Have you come to help me catch some fish, My Lord?" Before Theodore could respond, George added, "It is this way. Come along now." He started in the direction of the Serpentine, his enthusiasm catching.

Agnes half expected Theodore to resist, but he surprised her when he followed the boy with an amused grin on his face. Too curious to remain behind, she followed with Harry and Philip in tow. Watching Theodore pluck a stick from the grass by the lake and poke around in the water was a sight she had not anticipated witnessing that day.

"Do you feel the fish?" an excited George leaned over a crouching Theodore's shoulder, squinting into the lake. "I want an enormous one," George added, his demand specific and filled with the earnestness only a child could muster.

"Me too!" This excited squeal came from Harry, much to Agnes and Philip's shock. They turned identical expressions of surprise in the direction of their squeamish brother.

"What? Fish is food. I can tolerate that," Harry shrugged at their stares.

"Are you the same boy I saw with his face turning green at the sight of a snail earlier?" Theodore asked, and Agnes realized he had watched them for a while before joining them. He poked in the water a few more times and straightened. "It appears the fish are not in this water."

George deflated. "I thought they would be."

"I think they might have migrated to the country for the summer, Lord George," Theodore said, a playful seriousness in his tone. "I couldn't feel a single one in the lake," he added.

George's disappointment was short-lived, and he said, "We should follow them to the country."

"That is quite the idea," Theodore replied. "How about we play a little game instead?" George lit up instantly, the prospect of a game wiping away any lingering sadness.

"What happens to the loser?" he asked impishly, his eyes gleaming. Agnes had a feeling she knew what he was thinking, likely plotting some playful revenge or mischievous task for the unfortunate loser.

"The question should be, what does the winner get," Theodore rephrased, his approach to the game focusing on reward rather than punishment. He picked a few flat pebbles nearby and they all watched, fascinated, as he expertly threw them over the lake, the stones skipping over its silken surface and creating delightful ripples that danced across the water.

George let out another excited squeal, urging Theodore to teach him how he did that, his previous disappointment forgotten in the wake of this new activity. Harry and Philip weren't far behind, joining in the excited fray, their earlier reservations lost to the fun of the moment.

Agnes laughed along with them. Philip, for all his earlier posturing of maturity, seemed to have forgotten all about it as he laughed and squealed along with his younger brothers. Observing Theodore with her brothers, Agnes couldn't help her surprise at how good he was with children. She never imagined him capable of it, especially after hearing what society matrons were saying about him. Yet here he was, not just playing with one, but three children by a lake, showing a patience and a kindness that was heartwarming.

This made her reconsider everything she thought she knew about him. Perhaps she could trust Theodore to keep his word and help her secure a match by the season's end.

When it was finally time to leave, the children did not want to go. "You have to come play with us at home," Georgie insisted, his voice filled with the sort of earnestness that could melt even the sternest heart.

"Very well. I shall call upon you soon," Theodore promised, caught in the grip of their innocent charm.

Agnes's spirits were further buoyed by the thought of Theodore's visit. The prospect sparked a glow of anticipation within her, and for the first time since their agreement was made, she began to feel genuinely hopeful about the arrangement they'd entered into.

"I have some friends I shall introduce you to when you come," George declared happily.

"Friends?" Theodore raised a questioning brow, turning toward Agnes for clarification.

"Oh, never mind George. He is simply very social," Agnes dismissed with a playful wave of her hand, trying to downplay whatever menagerie or assembly of childhood ‘friends' George might be referring to. She harbored a doubt that Theodore would appreciate the ‘friends' in the same manner George did.

"I can tell," he chuckled, his laughter mixing with the children's.

The pleasantness of their outing was still fresh in her mind the following morning. After breakfast, Agnes was sifting through some books in the library, lost in thought, when her father found her. "Do you need help with those?" he asked, his voice cheerful yet carrying a hint of something more serious.

"I was trying to decide on my next read," she said as she considered her father's sudden appearance and the possible reason behind it.

He joined her, pulling out a chair and sitting down with the seriousness of a man who had something important on his mind. "Your mother told me about the recent happenings," he began, and immediately, Agnes felt a knot of discomfort form in her stomach. This was the conversation she had been dreading, the one she knew would come sooner or later.

"Agnes, my dear," her father began, his hands lightly enveloping hers in a comforting grasp, "I cannot deny the joy your courtship brings me even though Gillingham would not be my first choice. And I must advise caution. Do not rush into this union, my dear."

His grip on her hands tightened just a fraction, a silent reassurance that he was there for her.

"And remember," he added earnestly, "do not allow societal pressures to sway you. Make sure it's what you truly desire."

A pang of guilt twisted inside Agnes at his words. She swallowed hard, wondering if his advice had come too late. No, she wasn't rushing into anything. Nothing real, at least, she tried to convince herself as her father's advice lingered in her thoughts. "Thank you, Papa." Agnes squeezed his hand in return. In the privacy of their family moments, the formal titles were shed, allowing her the comfort of simply being a daughter.

After her conversation with her father, Agnes made her way to her bedroom with a selection of books in hand, only to encounter her mother in the hallway.

"Oh, there you are, Agnes. Lady Kirkland sent a note that she'd be calling this afternoon," she announced, and Agnes had to summon all her willpower not to visibly express her dismay. It was no secret that Lady Kirkland's visits often had more to do with gathering gossip than anything.

"We shall receive her together when she comes," her mother declared with the finality that left no room for argument, prompting Agnes to mentally brace herself for the ordeal. "Also, I've had tea prepared. Do see to it that everything is set before she arrives."

"Very well," Agnes responded, striving for a tone of pleasant acquiescence, even as her mind rebelled at the thought of enduring Lady Kirkland's inquisitive probing.

Amidst these thoughts, Agnes found herself wondering about Theodore's promised visit. Their encounter in the park had been just yesterday, yet the distance of a single day made his absence feel all the more pronounced. She couldn't help but anticipate, with a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, when he would fulfill his promise to call upon them.

With a sigh, she proceeded to her bedchamber to set aside her books before dutifully making her way to the drawing room, as per her mother's instructions.