Sunday afternoon I lead Tavish, Lachlan, and Fenella through the estate gates. They've been bouncing since breakfast, asking every ten minutes if it's time yet.
"Can we see the fountain?" Tavish is already pulling ahead.
"Stay where I can see you." I tighten my grip on Fenella's hand. "And don't touch anything expensive."
The gardens stretch out before us—perfectly manicured hedges, stone pathways, flower beds arranged with mathematical precision. Everything my children are not.
Lachlan spots a statue of a horse and starts toward it. "Is that real stone?!"
"Yes, and you're not climbing it."
"I wasn't going to climb it." He was absolutely going to climb it.
A voice cuts through from somewhere behind the hedges. "Who are you?"
My sons freeze. Fenella presses closer to my leg.
Isla steps out from behind a row of rosebushes, hands on her hips. She's wearing a pale blue dress that probably cost more than I make in three months.
Her dark hair is pulled back in careful braids. She looks nothing like the crying girl from the schoolroom—right now she looks every inch a nobleman's daughter sizing up potential intruders.
"I'm Tavish." My oldest finds his voice first. "That's Lachlan and that's Fenella."
"Wait, I know who you are..." Isla takes a step closer, studying them with unnerving intensity. "Mrs. Farren's children, right? You're visiting."
"Yes." Tavish shifts his weight. "Is that... allowed?"
"Father said you could come." Her gaze moves between the three of them, cataloging. "You don't look like siblings."
"We're triplets," Lachlan says defensively.
"All three of you? At the same time?" Isla's eyes go wide. "That's… How does that even work?"
"I don't know. We just are."
Fenella is still hiding behind me. Isla notices and crouches down slightly. "Are you scared?"
Fenella shakes her head but doesn't move.
"She's shy," Tavish explains. "She doesn't talk much to new people."
"That's all right." Isla straightens. "I don't like most people either." She considers them for another moment, then her expression shifts—the noble daughter disappearing, replaced by something wilder. "Do you want to play a game?"
Tavish and Lachlan exchange glances. "What kind of game?"
"I invented it. It's called Dragon's Keep." She's already grinning. "I'm the dragon and you're knights trying to steal my treasure."
"What's the treasure?" Lachlan asks.
"Whatever I say it is. Right now it's that bench." She points to a stone bench near the fountain. "If you touch it, you win. But if I catch you, you're turned to stone."
"That's not fair," Tavish protests. "You're faster than us. You already know where everything is."
"Dragons are always faster, that's why they're dragons." Isla is already backing toward the bench, arms spread wide. "Go!"
They scatter. Fenella squeals and runs behind me. Isla chases Lachlan around the fountain while Tavish tries to sneak along the hedge line.
I should stop this, tell them to be quieter, more careful, more aware that this is a noble estate and not a village green.
I don't.
"She's very commanding." Domnall's voice comes from behind me.
I turn. He's standing a few feet away, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his elbows. "She gets it from her grandmother."
"Terrifying." But he's smiling, watching Isla tackle Lachlan into the grass. "Should I intervene?"
"Probably."
Neither of us moves.
Tavish makes it to the bench. "I won!"
"No you didn't!" Isla scrambles up. "You have to touch it three times!"
"You didn't say three times!"
"I'm saying it now!"
Lachlan joins in. "That's cheating!"
"Dragons can change the rules. We're magic." Isla crosses her arms. "New rule: you have to get past me while I'm guarding it."
She plants herself in front of the bench. Tavish and Lachlan exchange glances. Some unspoken brother communication passes between them.
They charge at the same time from opposite sides.
Isla shrieks and lunges for Tavish, Lachlan darts past and slaps the bench. "Got it!"
"Not fair! Two against one!"
"You said we were knights," Tavish points out, breathless. "Knights work together."
Isla considers this. "Fine. New game. Now we're all knights fighting the dragon." She points at Domnall. "Father, you're the dragon."
"I am not—"
"Please?" She clasps her hands together. Tavish and Lachlan join in, all three giving him identical pleading expressions. Fenella just watches, still gripping my skirt.
Domnall looks at me. "Help."
"You heard them. You're the dragon."
His eyes narrow. "Traitor." He sighs then and walks toward the bench. "Fine. I'm the dragon. You have exactly ten seconds before I…"
They don't wait for him to finish—all three charge. He catches Isla around the waist and swings her up while she shrieks with laughter. Tavish grabs his leg, Lachlan goes for the other one.
"I'm under attack!" Domnall staggers dramatically, still holding Isla. "The knights are too powerful!"
He drops onto the grass, letting them pile on top of him. Isla is laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Tavish has somehow ended up on his back. Lachlan is trying to push him over like he's felling a tree.
Fenella tugs my skirt. "Can I play?"
"Go ahead."
She runs to join them. Domnall makes a show of trying to stand while four children cling to him, all of them shrieking and laughing.
"Mrs. Farren!" He calls out. "A little assistance!"
"You seem to be managing."
"I'm being defeated by people half my height!"
I'm laughing now. I can't help it. He's covered in grass stains, his hair is sticking up where Isla grabbed it, and he's grinning wider than I've ever seen.
He finally collapses backward onto the grass, the children cheer. Isla plants a muddy hand on his chest. "We won!"
"You cheated," he gasps, still smiling. "Four against one isn't fair."
"You're a dragon, you're supposed to be unbeatable." Tavish is lying on the grass beside him, equally breathless.
Lachlan spots the fountain. "Can we go in the water?"
"Absolutely not," Domnall and I say at the same time.
The children groan. Lachlan ignores us and dips his hand in anyway. Mud from his fingers clouds the water. "Oops."
"Lachlan!" My voice goes sharp.
"It was an accident!"
Isla leans over the edge. "Look, there are coins at the bottom."
"Don't even think about it," Domnall warns.
Too late—Isla is already reaching in. Her sleeve gets soaked. She pulls out a copper coin, triumphant. "I got one!"
Tavish and Lachlan immediately join her, all three leaning over the fountain edge while I'm trying to pull them back and Domnall is laughing too hard to help.
"This is chaos," I say.
"Complete chaos," he agrees, not making any move to stop it.
Eventually I manage to drag all three away from the fountain. They're wet and muddy and Fenella somehow has a leaf in her hair. Domnall is sitting on the grass, breathing hard, his shirt untucked and grass-stained.
I drop down beside him, surrendering. "Your mother is going to kill me."
"Probably." He's still grinning. "Worth it, though."
Tavish flops down on Domnall's other side. "Can we come back next week?"
"Yes." The answer comes without hesitation.
Fenella sits in my lap, leaning back against me. "You're funny."
Domnall looks at her. "Funny?"
"You fell over." She giggles. "Like this." She demonstrates by flopping sideways dramatically.
"I was defeated by superior forces," he says seriously. "It was strategic."
Isla throws herself across his legs, still catching her breath. "I like them better than Grandmother's guests."
"Your grandmother's guests don't usually end up in fountains," he points out.
"That's why they're boring."
We all laugh. For a moment, we're just two people sitting on grass watching four children be gloriously, messily themselves.
Then the temperature drops.
I feel it before I see her, and children sense it too—they go quiet, still.
Lady Catriona stands at the garden entrance, watching, her dress is immaculate grey silk. Her posture is perfect, her expression is stone.
Isla scrambles off her father's legs, suddenly aware of her ruined dress, her muddy hands and wild hair. She stands up straight, arms at her sides.
Catriona's voice is calm when she finally speaks, controlled. Ice wrapped in silk. "Isla. Inside. Now."
"Grandmother, I…"
"Inside. Clean yourself, then go to your room and reflect on behavior befitting your station."
Isla's face crumples, but she obeys. She walks toward the house, shoulders hunched, not looking back. Catriona watches her go, then her gaze moves to Domnall.
"A word, if you please." Her voice is still calm, still controlled, but there's steel underneath. The "if you please" isn't a request.
Domnall stands slowly, brushing grass from his trousers.
"In private." She adds and doesn't wait for his response. She turns and walks toward the house, her posture perfect, every step measured.
He glances back at me with an apology. Then he follows her into the house.
I'm left sitting on the grass with Tavish, Lachlan, and Fenella pressed close to me. The sun is still warm, but the garden feels colder.
Tavish's voice is small. "Did we get Isla in trouble?"
"No." I pull him closer. "You didn't do anything wrong."
But I'm lying. We all did something wrong. We let ourselves be happy and forgot our place.