“A perfect match,” Lily said. And she meant it.
Edward appeared with two glasses of lemonade and handed one to his wife. He settled onto the blanket and stretched his legs.
“Your gardens look well, Hugo,” Edward said.
“I hired a new groundskeeper.” Hugo dropped onto the blanket beside Lily and leaned back on his elbows. “A man from Kent who believes in letting things grow wild rather than trimming them into submission. I find his philosophy appealing.”
“You would.”
Lord and Lady Brimsey occupied the bench beneath the rose arbor, Lord Brimsey with his hat tipped over his eyes and his hands folded across his stomach, Lady Brimsey with her embroidery and a handkerchief tucked into her sleeve for deployment at the first sign of emotion.
Aunt Margaret sat in the garden chair nearest the cake, her opera glasses resting on the arm despite the fact that there was nothing to observe but family, and a glass of the Burgundy Hugo had brought back from France balanced on her knee.
“This wine is exceptional,” Aunt Margaret said. “Better than the last bottle you sent.”
“That one was from Beaune. This is from Volnay. The slope faces south, and the soil is pure limestone.”
“You inspected the drainage?”
“Naturally.”
“Good. I have trained you well.” She took a sip. “Now. I believe you mentioned gifts.”
Hugo looked at Lily. She smiled.
“We did,” Lily said. She reached behind the blanket and produced a collection of parcels wrapped in brown paper and tied with colored ribbon. “Shall we?”
Hugo distributed the parcels with theatrical flair.
“Lord Brimsey.” He handed the first to Lily’s father. “From a nursery in Tuscany.Rosa centifoliacuttings. They are known as the hundred-petaled rose. They are the finest specimens I could find, and the grower assures me they will thrive in English clay.”
Lord Brimsey pushed his hat back and examined the parcel with reverent attention. “Hugo, this is… These are extraordinary. Thecentifoliafrom Tuscany? I have read about these but never seen them available.”
“They required some persuasion. And a bottle of grappa.”
“You are a good man.” Lord Brimsey clutched the cuttings to his chest.
“A gift for you now, Mama.” Lily handed her mother a wrapped box. “From Venice. Murano glass. A set of perfume bottles.”
Lady Brimsey opened the box and burst into tears. “They are beautiful. Oh, Lily. They are the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”
“You said that about the wedding gown, Mama.”
“I say it about everything because everything you give me is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” She pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.
“Edward.” Hugo handed over a leather-bound volume. “First edition. Thucydides. I found it in a bookshop in Athens that I swear was approximately one thousand years old and smelled accordingly.”
Edward opened the cover and ran his thumb across the title page. “This is remarkable, Hugo. Thank you.”
“Sophia.” Lily presented her sister with a wooden box. “Writing paper from Florence. Handmade, from a family that has been producing it since the fifteenth century.”
Sophia opened the box and lifted a sheet to the light. Her fingers traced the surface. “It is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
“Oliver.” Hugo produced a small package. “A compass. From a watchmaker in Geneva. It was made for a Swiss naval officer, but he did not collect it, so I acquired it instead.”
Oliver abandoned the frog habitat and sprinted across the lawn. He tore open the paper and held the compass to the light. The brass casing gleamed in the sun.
“This is the best present anyone has ever given me.”
