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He turned his head to look over his shoulder at her. “Come and see,” he said.

She went to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, and he took one of her hands and laced his fingers with hers, a growingly familiar gesture. And they stood in all the glory of the moonlight as though bathing their very souls in it.

“I thought of preparing a speech but rejected the idea,” he said. “Anything that comes from the heart ought to be spontaneous. The trouble with that plan is that it has left me mute and with a frozen brain just when I need words. So…no speech. Just this. Will you marry me, Stephanie?”

She felt the tension in his hand and marveled at the power he had given her—to make him happy or to break his heart. For a moment the old incredulity and self-doubt threatened. But only for a moment.

“Yes,” she said. “I will.”

One side of his face was lit by moonlight when he turned toward her, and she could see that it was bright with that look of joy she had seen there earlier even though he was not actually smiling.

She smiled at him. “There is nothing I would like more,” she said.

He took both her hands in his then and raised them one at a time to his lips. “Thank you,” he said. “My love.”

For a moment she feared she might lose the bones in her knees. She laughed softly and a bit shakily and stepped against him. Their arms came about each other again, and they turned their heads to gaze out across the lake, her cheek nestled on his shoulder.

And this, she thought. Just this was happiness.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The guests spent much of their final day at Redcliffe calling upon friends they had made during their stay and drinking countless cups of tea or coffee. Not all of them were leaving, but most were. Two more of their number had been added to the former group, Bertrand himself and Maria. It was no great surprise when Maria decided to stay awhile longer since Mr. Cobb had been aggressively courting her from the start and she seemed, to the surprise of all, to be not entirely averse to his attentions.

Lady Dirkson had gathered with her sisters one night in Louise’s bedchamber to enjoy one of their cozy chats and, inevitably, to discuss the desirability of the match. It was, they had conceded, a decent though not brilliant match for Maria. They had also concluded, with some regret, that any helping hand from them seemed not to be called upon since Mr. Cobb was showing himself to be a force of nature. They consoled themselves by celebrating the success of their efforts with Bertrand and Stephanie, who were surely close at last to understanding that they belonged together, the dear things.

The final day was to culminate in a private dinner at Redcliffe.

“For where would the list end if we tried inviting a select few friends and neighbors?” the marchioness had asked rhetorically on the day following the village assembly.

There were two exceptions, however. The sisters beamed with benevolent satisfaction when Mr. Cobb and his sister joined everyone else in the drawing room just before dinner was announced.

Geoffrey Cobb had had a private meeting with Justin, Earl of Brandon, the day after the assembly, and Justin had had a private word with the Marquess of Dorchester later that same day after talking with his sister. Remarkably, no one else, except perhaps Viola and Estelle, knew about either meeting. But interest piqued at the sight of the unexpected dinner guests.

Dinner was both a happy and a sad occasion, for everyone had greatly enjoyed the stay at Redcliffe and one another’s company and would have happy memories. But they all also looked forward to returning home tomorrow or to moving on to the next interesting activity that awaited them. Conversation was lively and the food plentiful and sumptuous.

The meal was drawing to an end when the marquess, seated at the head of the table, drew everyone’s attention his way with a spoon tapped against his empty dessert plate before directing it toward Justin, who rose to his feet, took a glass of champagne from a footman, who proceeded to place one before each of the diners, and cleared his throat.

“I take great pleasure,” he said, “in announcing the betrothal of my sister, Maria, to Geoffrey Cobb, who asked me very properly the morning after the village assembly before proposing to Maria herself—for the second time, I understand. Please join me in wishing the couple long life and happiness.” He raised his glass.

There were exclamations of open delight from most and feigned surprise from a few as everyone rose and toasted the betrothed pair. Maria smiled happily and Cobb frowned ferociously while gazing intently upon his affianced bride. The toast was followed by more prolonged congratulations and a shower of questions, most of them concerning the wedding.

Maria had surprised her brother and sister-in-law and herself by falling head over heels in love with the bluff farmer, who was a gentleman of solid means and impeccable lineage but seemingly very few other attractions. To her he had quickly become the whole world. She had even grown to love his sister Ann, whose forthright, often severe manner frightened half the population for miles around, men and women alike.

Although she had planned to travel onward to Yorkshire after leaving here to visit her maternal relatives, Maria was to remain behind with Justin and Estelle to work on the wedding plans.

“I am in favor of a small wedding in the church here following an immediate calling of the banns,” Mr. Cobb said in answer to one question.

“But in my role as Maria’s brother and former guardian, I must express a strong preference for a grander wedding at Everleigh Park, to which all relatives, neighbors, and friends will be invited,” Justin said. “Maria is my only sister, after all. My only sibling.”

Mr. Cobb glowered at him.

“Would you encourage Miss Cobb to wed in such haste if she were about to marry?” Justin asked.

All heads moved with silent interest from one to the other of the future brothers-in-law. Ann Cobb turned her somewhat steely gaze upon her brother and awaited his answer.

“I would encourage Ann to have the wedding of her choice,” he said. “I encourage Maria to do the same.”

“I would like the grander wedding, Geoffrey,” she said softly and apologetically. “Family has been of great importance to me since I rediscovered them a few years ago. A wedding ought to be a family occasion.”