The next few minutes were taken up with jovial greetings. Both men refused tea and cakes.
“I do not believe I will be able to eat another crumb until at least tomorrow,” Matthew said, patting his stomach. “I have just been devouring a feast.”
“And I will take no more of your time, Mrs. Greenfield,” Reginald said. “We kept Matt rather longer than we ought. I know you have a distance to go, Lady Stratton.”
“Clarissa,” she said.
“Clarissa.” He nodded. “You will want to be on your way. Thank you for bringing my brother to me.”
“I am always happy for an excuse to spend time with Mama and Papa,” she said.
He wrung his brother’s hand but turned to look at them all before setting out for home. “I hope you are all free on Friday evening of next week,” he said. “My wife and daughter-in-law are planning some sort of neighborhood party in Matt’s honor, though I know he will have nightmares about it from now until then. I hope you will come too, La— Clarissa.”
“If only to provide the carriage to bring Matthew?” she said, her eyes twinkling at him.
“I will be happy to send my own carriage to fetch him,” he said.“You were always his best friend. And I do mean best. We would be honored to have you at our party.”
“I would not miss it for worlds,” she said. “Thank you.”
He nodded to them all again and was gone.
“What a lovely idea,” Clarissa said, smiling at Matthew. “Nightmares notwithstanding.”
He frowned. “I already feel like an impostor,” he said. “But Friday of next week is bound to be ten times worse than today.”
“Make that a hundred times, my lad,” her father said. “Stiffen your backbone and grit your teeth and march valiantly into battle.”
“Richard!” Clarissa’s mother said. “You are frightening the poor man.”
But the poor man was laughing, albeit a bit ruefully.
“And it really is time you were on your way,” Clarissa’s mother said as she always did when late afternoon was upon them and she knew her daughter had ten miles to travel in order to arrive safely home at Ravenswood before dark. “If you are quite sure you will not have any refreshments before you leave, Matthew.”
“I really could not, ma’am,” he said, patting his stomach again. “If it was not Adelaide pressing more food upon me during luncheon, it was Emily. And it is very hard to say no when people are being so kind.”
Ten minutes later they were on their way. Not to go straight home, however. Matthew asked if they could stop at the church, which was at the far end of the village. Clarissa took his hand in hers. He gripped hard.
“Guilt and innocence are elusive concepts,” he said. “The need to forgive and the need to be forgiven. It turns out that they are rarely entirely one-sided—one guilty party, one innocent. Everything is all jumbled up. Both guilty, both innocent. Both apologizing, bothforgiving. No one more to blame than the other. Am I making any sense? Am I merely stating the obvious?”
“You are making sense,” she said. “Perhaps in time you will understand how I felt—how I feel—about Caleb.”
“I am not so sure of that,” he said. “I cannot see how that was not clearly a case of guilt on one side and innocence on the other.”
“I sent my beloved son into exile rather than confront the real cancer at the heart of my marriage,” she said. “I put appearances before love. But I do not wish to discuss that now. I only mean to assure you that I understand exactly what you are saying. So Reginald is no longer the black-hearted villain?”
“Nor am I,” he said. “Forgiveness always has to be given to oneself as well as to the other. I learned that years and years ago and applied it—except to the one crucial area of my life.”
She set her cheek against his shoulder, but the carriage was already slowing outside the lych-gate that led to the church and the churchyard. She felt him draw a deep breath and hold it for a while before releasing it.
“I will wait here,” she said.
He nodded. “I will not keep you long.”
“Take as long as you need,” she told him as he jumped from the carriage without waiting for the steps to be lowered and disappeared under the roof of the gate.
She watched as he came into sight on the other side, stepping off the path to the church in order to walk slowly among the headstones, many of them old and mossy. She realized after a while that he could not remember exactly where the grave for which he searched was. Her heart ached for him, and she could not watch any longer. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the cushioned seat behind her.
—
