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“You act like you know everything, but you don’t,” Oliver said.

“I know more than you.”

“Go on then. What’s that building?” Oliver thrust out a hand, pointing to a nearby building. Emily thought for a few moments, then lifted her eyebrows.

“That’s the Bank of England,” she said.

“You’re making that up. You don’t know that,” Oliver said. “Miss Sterling, she’s making things up!”

“Will you two please stop bickering and just enjoy the journey. We don’t often get to see London like this. Do you really want to spend your whole life arguing?” Clara said. Agatha then directed Emily’s attention somewhere else, and peace settled over the carriage.

It soon pulled up outside Clemont Hall, the carriage stopping in the courtyard. When Teddy clambered out, he thanked the horse and waved goodbye. Emily was about to make a scornful comment, but Clara noticed before it could be uttered and raised a finger in warning, making sure that Emily kept whatever she was thinking to herself.

The children were agog at the size of Clemont Hall, and were honored when the butler announced them.

Gerald came to greet them, flanked by his sister, Eleanor, who smiled at the children and shook each of their hands in turn. She then nodded to Clara and smiled politely. Clara returned the gesture, but felt a little guilty. Eleanor had been entirely pleasant, but she was not aware of the truth of the bargain. It was difficult to mislead their families. Clara hoped that when she begged for forgiveness, it would be granted.

“Would you like to come with me and explore the estate? We have a ballroom and a feasting hall, and a suit of armor,” Eleanor said. The children turned to Clara.

“May we?” they asked.

“You may,” Clara said, suppressing a smile. They started to race off, before Clara reminded them to be careful and to show respect to Gerald’s house. They slowed their pace, although they looked as though they were liable to break into a sprint at any moment.

“I thought it might behoove us to distract the children. It will be easier for you to examine the wildflowers without them running about,” Gerald said.

“Indeed. I hope that it does not place too much of a burden on Eleanor.”

“Not at all. She comes alive in the company of children. She was thrilled when I asked her,” he said. Then, he showed them to the gardens. Agatha walked close behind them, ever a willing chaperone.

The gardens stretched out in a number of directions. The paths formed squares, leading to patches of wild bushes, fragrant flowers, and lush grass. Birds chirped and bees hummed. Clara breathed deeply. This was the kind of scene she always loved.

“Are there any flowers you would like me to sketch in particular?” she asked.

“I am willing to bow to your artful instincts,” he said. “I’m sure you have a better mind for aesthetics than I do. We can walk around, and you can frame the scenes. Feel free to draw as much or as little as you like. It may end up that my flowers are not as impressive as I initially thought.”

“I’m sure that won’t be the case. You have a wonderful collection.”

“I wish I could take credit for it. I have my groundskeeper to thank. He has some contacts on the continent and has created a blend of European and British flowers. I’m afraid I cannot remember them all, however.”

“Perhaps you should invite Aunt Charlotte here. She could catalogue them all, and would be able to tell you where they came from and what their most suitable environment is.”

“Suitable environments? Are air, sun, and water not sufficient?”

Clara giggled. “They are needed in different quantities. Different plants have different needs. As my aunt is fond of saying, they are more like people than we think.”

Gerald nodded thoughtfully.

“And I have met a number of people who have resembled plants,” he said with a particularly wry look on his face. Clara’s giggle became heartier. They followed the path around until they reached a couple of benches. The flowers were arranged in such a way as to make the pattern of a rainbow. It looked utterly perfect with Clement Hall behind it. Clara nodded emphatically.

“This will be perfect,” she said. Agatha took a seat on a separate bench and tilted her head back, taking the opportunity to rest her eyes.

“Would you like anything, some tea perhaps?” Gerald asked.

“Nothing at the moment, thank you. I just need my pencils and paper,” Clara said, pulling out these items from a thin satchel. She placed her sketchbook over her legs and pinched the pencil between her finger and thumb. Gerald settled onto the bench beside her. She shifted a little, feeling a tremor passing through her. Their legs weren’t quite touching, but there was only about an inch between them. Should either of them move…

“Are there no pressing matters that require your attention?” she asked as she began sketching. She became keenly aware that he was watching her.

Usually she sketched in private, able to correct any errors she made without anyone noticing. People always marveled at the finished project, for they did not see the erased lines and smudged marks, or hear the frustrated mutterings that leaped from Clara’s mouth when things went wrong.