44. Another Ball?

The ball that we held for the estate people and villagers was a much less 'interesting' affair than the previous, grander event, and from that point of view, it was much better.

The receiving line was much more enjoyable, that much I can say. There was no grandness, no styles - all the announcements were "Mr George somebody", or "Henry Jones and Mrs Anne Jones". People came forwards and the bows and the curtsies seemed eager and warm. It felt like people wanted to meet us, to see us and be seen by us. Despite the distance between us, socially, I found myself quite liking these people.

As far as I am aware there was no intrigue, no one was challenged to a duel and certainly there was no need to summon a lawyer, although mine was there, with his wife, and they enjoyed themselves immensely. I felt no urge to spread rumours of investigations about anyone. Instead, everyone had put on their very best clothes, drink flowed, music played and food was eaten. The dancing was less intense, it was less courtship and more simply dancing for the pleasure of it. The dances themselves were less modern, and the musicians played more traditional tunes, and there were smiles and often laughter, as people tripped out their measures.

At one point I stood to listen to the sound of the people talking in the room. Not what was being said, it would have been impossible to pick the words out of so many different conversations, instead I listened to the tone of the voices themselves. It was a higher pitched, happy sound, interspersed with outbursts of greeting and frequent laughter.

I believe that a grand society ball, like the one we had thrown before Christmas, is nothing more than politics dressed in its best clothes. People are formally polite and enjoy themselves in a guarded manner. Our less grand event for the villagers was no less well-dressed but it was more to do with people enjoying themselves at a social occasion. For sure, there were heated moments but the footmen - led by Barclay - were genuinely adept at dealing with them and no one ended up in the snow outside.

One of the things that Helena noted while she and Emily Dodgson progressed around the ball, was that by-and-large most people treated Emily quite courteously. They extended their sympathies to her for her loss - and to my mother as well - but more importantly, Helena said that she did not feel any animus towards Mrs Dodgson in any of the conversations. She did not seem to be excluded socially in any way, because of her brother's actions.

Helena sensibly saw this as an opportunity to bring Emily and Dr Locksley together to discuss the teaching role. She left them to talk but said that they were getting along very well.

For myself, I lost count of the number of times I shook hands with people, and swapped greetings. I think that if I had shared a drink with everyone who offered me one, I would have been the person that the footmen carried out, but most of the people recognised that, and I did hear one person say as I made my way onwards that I lacked the 'side' of my father - meaning that my father could be stand-offish - and that I was much more approachable.

At one point I found myself standing next to James Barthomley without him noticing. When he did realise that it was me, he nearly leapt out of his skin.

It was hard not to smile, instead I simply wished him the best for the coming new year; with Hermione, the poor chap was going to need it.

At another point, I ended up standing with Caroline and Henry. I couldn't help but think that they looked like they belonged together, and they both looked perfectly suited to the setting.

"This must be accounted one of your better ideas, William." Caroline told me as I watched the dancers.

I nodded and said, "I hope so, people seem to be enjoying themselves."

"The geese we sent out have been very gratefully received, Your Grace." Henry told me, "I think it was unexpected and timely."

"Let's talk about it ... tomorrow, at least." I said, "Tonight is for enjoyment. But! Before I do anything else, remind me when we do sit down together, yes, I definitely think we need some assistants for you, and they should most certainly be old soldiers who can do the job.

Caroline stared at me. "William?!" She asked.

"It was just a thought we had, Henry and I," I said, "A good one."

Caroline leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "It sounds like a very good idea, William."

I left them together, and walked off.

At this point I realised that I actually was a bit tipsy, probably more than just a little bit. And with the complete certainty and utter confidence of the tipsillated, I made my way onto the dance floor. Signalling the orchestra to quiet them, I found myself in the middle of the party-goers.

"On behalf of my mother, and my sisters - and myself, of course - we would like to thank you all for attending tonight." Applause.

"The late duke, my father, was not a great enthusiast for this sort of thing, I, on the other hand, am. So, I am very happy to see you all here and that you are enjoying yourselves and I hope that we can do this again sometime." Applause and some laughter.

"Gatherings like this are so important in communities like ours, to grow the bonds between us, the bonds which sustain us both. It is only by standing, working and - yes, playing together that we thrive and grow." Applause.

"I have tried to get around to meet as many of you as I can. If I have not, I apologise, it is something that I will try and remedy in time. For now, though, please enjoy the Rogeringham hospitality, because I am drunk and I am going to bed. Happy new year!"

Cheers, applause, laughter and oh my! - a loud voice from the crowd, "Three cheers for His Grace, the duke! Hip-hip! Huzzah! Hip-hip! Huzzah! Hip-hip! Huzzah!"

It was a happy Captain Sir William Rogeringham, 6th Duke of Norton, that made his way to bed that night.