But it was time to move on to Reginald, who took one of her hands in his and kissed her cheek.
“I am a happy man tonight,” he said.
The people who were already in the drawing room stood in groups talking. George led their parents to a couple of unoccupied chairs against one wall and proceeded to introduce Kitty to other guests. Clarissa moved from group to group, as was her custom at social gatherings. But she enjoyed those in the country far more than she did the more glittering parties in London during the Season.
After a while it seemed the invited guests had all arrived. There was no more receiving line, and both the drawing room and the smaller room beyond it were full of people, chattering merrily and rather loudly. Reginald took his brother about, clearly bursting with pride and affection.
How touching and unexpected it was. Clarissa hardly recognized Reginald as the young man who had always seemed so dour and disapproving when she was still a child—so very much like his father, in fact. Even at her mother’s birthday party he had seemed a bit stiff with her. She had not liked him. Now it was hard not to.
The guests soon disposed themselves into three familiar groupings. Those who wished to play cards moved to a salon close to the drawing room, where tables had been set up for them with newpacks of cards awaiting their use. Those who wished to talk sat or stood in groups close to the walls or wandered to the dining room to fill a plate with dainties or a glass with a favorite beverage. A young lady Clarissa did not know seated herself at the pianoforte in the other room, and those young people who wanted to dance clustered about the instrument suggesting music and dance sets. Reginald, after huddling with them for a minute or two, announced a Sir Roger de Coverley. Lines formed, and the dancing began on a floor that was just large enough to accommodate those couples who chose to use it.
Clarissa watched the dancing for a while before going through to the dining room with her mother, who fancied a cup of tea. They stayed to converse with the vicar’s wife and Mrs. Jakes and to sample a few of the savory dainties. Matthew was deep in conversation with Captain Jakes, she saw when they returned to the drawing room, though they were soon joined by other guests. Everyone wanted to have a word with him, it seemed.
After a while there was a break in the proceedings while servants moved around the perimeter of the room with trays of champagne they offered to everyone. The card players came in to swell the crowd, and Reginald moved to the empty center, a full glass in one hand. He held up the other hand to attract everyone’s attention.
“I hope you are all enjoying the evening,” he said. There was a murmur of assurances that indeed everyone was. “But before you resume whatever you were doing before I interrupted you, I invite you all to join me in a toast to Matthew, my brother, who has come home and been restored to us after more than thirty years.”
There was another murmur, louder than the first, as everyone raised their glasses and drank the toast. Clarissa blinked her eyes in an effort not to weep openly. The servants moved about the roomagain, refilling glasses. Matthew nodded his acknowledgment of the toast and looked a bit sheepish. His eyes met Clarissa’s across the room and he grinned.
“Thank you,” he said when an expectant hush fell upon the room. “This has been a happy day for me. I will, however, be happier still when I am no longer the focus of everyone’s attention.”
Laughter greeted his words as Reginald held up a hand for silence again.
“And I have the honor of making another announcement,” he said. “With the permission of those concerned.”
Ah. It was going to happen, then, was it? All of Matthew’s family was here except for one nephew. And Clarissa’s own family was here, even though none of her children were.
“My brother is newly betrothed,” Reginald said, “to the lady many of you will remember as Clarissa Greenfield, now Clarissa Ware, Dowager Countess of Stratton. You will join me, if you please, in a new toast to the couple.”
His last words, though, were half lost in a swell of astonished and pleased exclamations. Soon everyone’s glass was raised again in the new toast, and Matthew wove his way among guests to stand before Clarissa, take her hand in his, and bow over it.
“I believe we are fully committed now,” he murmured to her.
“But I was committed this afternoon,” she said.
And then they were surrounded by well-wishers, who came to shake Matthew’s hand and squeeze his shoulder and slap him on the back and to kiss Clarissa’s cheek and wish them both happiness and long life together and to ask what their plans were for the wedding.
Clarissa felt a bit guilty that all this was happening tonight,when none of her children even knew of her engagement yet. But they soon would. She had only to think of how fast they had learned of her friendship with Matthew. Besides, she would write to each of them as soon as she returned home, perhaps even before then. And besides again, her parents knew and were present tonight, beaming upon all who went to congratulate them. Her brother was here too, looking happy.
Oh, and she was happy. She was positively bursting with happiness.
Reginald, who was still standing in the middle of the drawing room floor, held up his hand once again after a while, and a sort of hush descended upon the room.
“The young people have been asking all evening for a waltz,” he said, “though I understand very few of them actually know the steps. They have been relying upon someone to show them so they may try for themselves. George Greenfield and his wife have admitted to knowing the waltz. I understand it is quite popular at London balls these days. A few of our other guests have danced it too, including Lady Stratton, hardly surprisingly. And I have just learned from the younger Mrs. Greenfield that during an assembly at Ravenswood a year or two ago, the dowager countess waltzed with none other than my own brother. I do require proof, however. Now, without further delay.”
There was a gust of laughter as Clarissa caught a look of dismay on Matthew’s face.
“Good God,” he murmured irreverently. Or perhaps it really was a plea to the divine to rescue him.
Clarissa laughed.
“We will see them waltz together now,” Reginald said. “Everyoneelse who wishes to join them may do so after the first minute or two. Matt? Lead your betrothed onto the floor, if you please.”
Everyone squeezed back closer to the walls to make the dancing space larger.
Someone began to clap slowly when Matthew did not immediately move, and others followed suit. Someone cheered. Someone else whistled.
Matthew shook his head, took Clarissa’s hand in his, and led her onto the clear space of the dancing floor.
