Farren was alarmed when an older man, whom could only be Declan's grandfather, came to greet her. How odd it was to have the patriarch of the family answer his own door like this. However, Farren would not let this shake her manners. He greeted her, informally with her first name which was also odd and introduced himself with his first name as well. Farren gave a shallow curtsey, "A pleasure to meet you Sir," she said politely. As he noticed the bouquets she nodded, "They are for Mrs. O'Dwyer and Mrs. O'Dwyer, I was uncertain which ladies would be present today so I hope I've accounted for the correct number of Mrs. O'Dwyers." Still setting up? While she was unsure what exactly was being set up she found it most odd that a household of this means did not have these things solely handled by their staff and preparations ready and waiting well ahead of their planned agenda.
They were soon joined by whom she could only assume was his grandmother. In her arms was a small house elf wrapped in a towel. Farren could not help but stare, forcing herself to remain expressionless in her shock. Merlin's beard, Declan had implied they were all rather casual but she'd assumed he meant in the sense that they'd done away with dinner jackets and took their meals buffet style instead of being served each course. It never occurred to her that a wizard should bathe an elf or in any way be associated with their care and keeping apart from providing adequate resources and home for them. There seemed to be something unnatural about it which made her uncomfortable but she could harldy let this opinion known as this seemed entirely acceptable here. Part of her was now glad that her father seemed certain her grandfather wouldn't bother with hauling himself to Ireland to aquaint himself with the O'Dwyers, he would have such secondhand embarrassment from the scene she now saw there was no doubt in her mind that he would return to Dalemain confirming that his assumptions about the Irish were in fact so accurate as to be an understatement of reality.
As custom dictated she offered another shallow curtsy for Muireann, "Pleased to meet you Ma'am," she offered. The elf was ignored entirely, Farren could not fathom how one was to address an underage elf of no relation to themselves. No one in her years of etiquette training had prepared her for such a scenario and she supposed that in these types of scenarios silence and polite ignorance was the best course of action.
Mrs. O'Dwyer tidied herself with a wave of her hand, Farren's gaze flickered to the floor in front of her as she did, finding it rather remarkable that she would do this in front of a guest instead of absenting herself to a private place. Smiling politely Farren looked back to her hostess when she mentioned champagne, "I'd be pleased to take either, whichever you deem preferable for the day, my Grandmother is French so I'm well acquainted with the profile of both makers." Clearly the Veuve Cliquot was a preferable bottle but Farren was not so opinionated on these things and did not want to seem too eager to have her hostess open something so rare.
"I'm very glad you find them pleasing," smiling she was in fact very glad they liked the flowers as she'd been unsure what they'd think was proper, "These flowers were delivered to me in London early this morning from my family estate in Cumbria so that I could arrange for her Ladyship a small piece of my own home, a place that shall forever have my heart, and whose gardens and fields were quite important to me in my formative years."
Following the hostesses lead she proceeded onto the house tour, which again, she found most alarming. Guests arriving at Dalemain were likely to see the foyer, the halls, and a sitting room and dining room at most. It was far too large to bother showing everyone around and more over seemed odd to do as if their family home were some kind of tourist attraction like many of the great muggle estates had become. However odd she found all this she would not show her discomfort. She had endured far worse after all and kept her politeness, though she was mindful that being so polite would likely appear uptight and arrogant to people so utterly casual as this. So she nodded and smiled through the brief tour, making the occasional small comment to compliment something in the space. Farren was quite sure she would never 'help herself' to anything nor make herself at home here, at least not so soon, but she thanked her hostess nonetheless as manners dictated.
It surprised her further when Mrs. O'Dwyer mentioned Lúnasa, whatever that was, and asked if she'd been educated about it. For a moment she wished Declan was here, not to save her from his relations, but so she could shoot him a scolding look as he'd failed to mention anything at all about this nor that today was an event of any kind. "I'm afraid I was not made aware Ma'am," she said sweetly as to indicate though she had never heard of such a thing she was willing to learn.
Declan's laugh interrupted them though as he declared from somewhere in the kitchen that there seemed to be no real significance or consequence to the day at all. Which she was glad for but rather annoyed he'd failed to mention this at all seeing as he was very aware she knew nothing and cared nothing much for Irish culture. Here she was thrust into it with some made up holiday and a wealthy witches carrying house elves around in towels. If this was how it were in Ireland he'd certainly failed to be as clear as he ought have been. Of course she was not annoyed in a way that was serious, more in that, she viewed these meetings of the family as events where they were playing on the same side. How was their side to win with a total blow out if one of a pair weren't fully abreast of the style of game being played? He'd left her feeling off sides and while she was sure she could manage it, some warning would have been helpful.
With his promise that he would soon join them she found herself being ferried out to some kind of garden where it appeared they might make their celebration she'd just been informed of. Naturally she was curious what exactly Declan had said about her. Seeing as she'd made no mention of Declan to her parents prior to her showing up at the house and declare she would marry him Declan was left with no doubt as to what opinion her family had of him. Unfavorable. At least though he had an idea of where he starting his game, the under dog, accepted as a player by force of his partner.
"Yes, yes, in Vienna," Farren confirmed in regards to her music career, "I was to The European Magical Conservatory straight from Hogwarts. I stayed there some 3 years for education before being placed as a chair in the oldest and grandest magical orchestra in Europe - the one associated with the conservatory. I toured with them across Europe and played in Vienna for a season after I was appointed a chair at the conclusion of my formal education within the conservatory. After which I returned to England and have not had the pleasure to play with them again since but perhaps some day I can hope to return in some capacity. I did on occasion fill in a chair of the strings section in London since then but have been unable to commit to a full season with anyone unfortunately."
She was all very polite and sweet, as she'd been trained to be, even though she found everything about today quite odd and entirely out of sorts with her expectations. If she'd gone about bringing Declan home properly there'd be none of this casual pleasantry. He'd have been received for either tea or a meal. Conversation would have been conducted quite formally, with the exception of her mother, who only pulled out her manners for people she deemed worthy. If he was lucky he'd be invited to the family room for a night cap and some kind of casual leisure such as chess or cards. Then he'd be escorted out by a servant and sent on his merry way. Yet here she was, having been shown to the toilet by the mistress of the house herself, Farren had hardly heard of such a thing except amongst those so closely tied to you they were as good as siblings. If this was how the older generation conducted themselves she was increasingly worried about Declan's parents and how he would expect their home life to be. For a moment her thoughts de-railed from the day to what it might be like to be with child amongst such casual people. Would they dare to try and discuss the intimate and biological nature of such an experience? Would they fawn over her bloated abdomen and rub it incessantly as she'd seen witches do in Diagon Alley amongst friends. It all felt very peculiar and foreign to her when she'd hardly considered Ireland that foreign, perhaps slightly but not this much.
She was seated as directed, amongst their garden set up with his Grandmother and Grandfather. Answering questions about her music was perfectly fine with her. It was easy to discuss even if jokes about people's musical talents grew tiresome. It wasn't uncommon to hear such things but after years of it anyone would tire of hearing about so and so's cousin or brother who could peck out Mozart on a piano being considered musical talent. Might as well compare Declan's potion skills to a student who'd passed their 5th year O.W.L in potions. Though she found it irritating he'd mentioned nothing about this silly holiday nor the fact that his family were so very casual she hope Declan would join them soon. At this rate she'd appreciate him as a translator if nothing else, knowing her nature and theirs she assumed he could polish out the sharp edges that might clash and make her seem uppity and snobbish to them with her formality and provide context for her as to why two of the grandest people in Ireland had the mannerisms of country bumpkins.
"I'm afraid you'll have to instruct me about all of todays happenings regarding Lúnasa," she said trying to at least keep banter flowing, "Declan utterly failed to mention such an event and I'm afraid, hailing from Cumbria, I'm not at all aware of the events on the Irish calendar apart from perhaps the larger celebrations."