—
For many country folk the waltz was still unknown, it seemed, or was merely a rumor of a dance that was not quite proper because it involved two partners dancing exclusively with each other and touching each other throughout. There were those, on the other hand, who had heard it was the most romantic dance ever conceived.
Matthew wished the dance to perdition. Yes, he had waltzed once, in a crowded ballroom a long time ago. But Reggie’s guests, gathered to celebrate his homecoming and now his betrothal to the dowager Lady Stratton, were watching with avid interest, and Matthew was touched by their wholehearted welcome. He could feel their eyes upon him and Clarissa, a far from comforting feeling. But he owed them something. More important, he owed Reggie and Adelaide something. Not to mention Clarissa.
She was smiling at him.
“I hope I do not end up making a spectacle of you,” he said. But he refused to do any such thing. He was about to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room, his lifelong friend, the girl with whom he had fallen painfully in love all those years ago, the womanwith whom he was deeply in love now. And by some miracle she loved him in return. She had agreed to marry him—for who he was, without any attempt to change him into a more obvious and respectable gentleman, though he had made the offer.
Just as he was, he was her world, as she was his.
“You will not,” she said, smiling softly into his eyes as he set a hand at the small of her back and took one of her hands with his other. She set her free hand on his shoulder, and there was a sort of sigh from the gathered guests. Even the card players had not yet returned to the salon and their games.
The young pianist struck a chord and began to play a relatively sedate waltz tune, one that enabled him to remember the steps and lead his partner with some confidence.
For a few moments, as they gazed into each other’s eyes, he was aware of their audience and of his steps and hers. But the waltz—he remembered this about it from that set he had danced with her at Ravenswood—had a way of weaving its magic, and soon he forgot everything but the music and the gleaming floor beneath their feet and the candles glowing in the candelabra overhead and becoming one circle of light as he twirled her about a corner of the room. He was aware of evening gowns becoming a kaleidoscopic swirl of pastel shades and of jewels, whether real or merely paste, winking in the light. He was aware of other dancers joining them after a while. But his own world was bounded by their arms, his and his partner’s, and centered in their bodies, close to each other but not touching. His focus was upon Clarissa herself and her smile. And his own overflowing happiness.
The waltz was indeed and by far the most romantic dance ever created. He did not want it to end. But, of course, it did—to enthusiastic applause.
No longer did he feel obliged to circulate alone among Reggie and Adelaide’s guests. With Clarissa on his arm, he spoke with everyone, both old neighbors he remembered and new ones he had never met before tonight. And despite the fact that his new engagement was foremost in his mind, he also felt the warmth of homecoming.
He felt as though in the jigsaw puzzle of his life, the final piece, which he had not even realized was missing, had fallen into place so that now the picture was complete and he could be perfectly at peace. Not that life could ever be that simple and orderly, of course, but tonight he felt like a whole person, and he had his family to thank and Clarissa and her family—and even himself for opening his mind and heart to new possibilities after he had clung so long to his cozy cocoon.
“I want to thank you for all this,” he said when they came upon Reggie and Adelaide a short time later in the hallway leading to the dining room. He hugged his sister-in-law and wrung his brother’s hand. “I cannot tell you how happy your unconditional acceptance has made me.”
“All streets have two sides to them, Matt,” Reggie said. “We are grateful to you too for coming. And also to you, Clarissa. We were not at all sure our plans for tonight would not end in disarray.”
“You have made us both very happy,” Adelaide said, beaming at them. “Come and have something to eat. I do not particularly want to be serving the remains of this feast for the next week.”
The party was still proceeding in lively fashion an hour or so later when George Greenfield came to tell them he and Kitty were taking his parents home.
“They are tired,” he said. “You will squeeze into the carriage with us, Clarissa?”
Matthew opened his mouth to speak, but she answered first.
“No,” she said. “You go on, George. Matthew is going to walk me home.”
“Ah,” George said. “We will see you back at the house, then.”
“I am, am I?” Matthew asked after George had stridden away to assist his parents out to their carriage.
“Of course,” she said. “It is one of the primary duties of a betrothed man to walk his beloved home when the carriage offered for her use is already filled with other couples.”
“Rule 647, I believe?” he said.
“Rule 648,” she said. “Number 647 is the one about him first fetching her bonnet and shawl and reticule while she takes her leave of her hosts.”
“Right,” he said. “I remember now. And 649 states quite categorically that he gets to kiss her good night after delivering her to her own door. I will see you out in the hall in two minutes.”
Ten minutes passed before they left the house with a grand farewell from all his relatives, who had gathered in the hall to wave them on their way. By that time the card games in the salon close by seemed to be breaking up. In the drawing room the music had stopped and there were the distinctive end-of-evening sounds of neighbors taking their leave of one another. It was almost half past eleven, very late for a country party and a sure sign that everyone had been enjoying the evening and was reluctant to see it come to an end. Adelaide and Emily would be over the moon with gratification at the success of their party.
—
The sky was clear and the moon was almost at the full. The stars were at their brightest. Matthew did not take a lantern with him from his brother’s house. It was not needed. They walkedat first hand in hand and then with an arm about each other’s waist, over the familiar route to the Greenfield house. They did not speak for a while. Instead they enjoyed the coolness of the air—there was still a steady breeze blowing—and absorbed the night sounds of insects whirring and an owl hooting in the distance.
She and Caleb had never walked like this. But she banished the thought from her mind before it could develop further. She did not want to compare and would not. She was happy now, and that was what mattered.
“You are not sorry you came, then?” she asked him after a while. “I know you were nervous about this party.”
