His mind cast back to the last time he had found himself holding such affection. It had been some years ago now but still, the ache remained. Patricia Gladstone, the woman he had loved, had been the reason he had found such a lack of desire to return to society. She had turned out to be just the same as the rest of them — worse, actually — although he had not seen it at the time. They were all so false, so filled with pretension and posturing that their true selves were never truly revealed – often not even to their spouses. He had thought he had known Patricia through and through, only to realize that she felt nothing for him.
Her words had crumbled to dust, her promises blown away in the wind. Everything he had said and felt and pledged had been true, whereas her words had been nothing more than lies. Even now, that cut deeply. And yet, somehow, Lady Polly Harrington, though unaware of it, was finding a way into his heart, slowly mending the pain that he had filled it with for such a long time. He did not want to allow her there, did not want to let himself feel, but it was as though his heart had already claimed her as his own.
“You are being quite foolish,” he muttered to himself, trying to stop himself from thinking of Polly, trying to prevent his mind from tumbling with thoughts of her. He was older than her by eight years, and besides that, too staid for the likes of her.
She was brightness and light, twirling through life with all the exuberance of youth. If anyone was to be her husband, it would be a man who enjoyed the sights and sounds of London just as she did. He would not do. Coming to London was a trial, being in society nothing more than an endurance. What he wanted, more than anything, was simply to return home and enjoy his quiet country existence. What kind of life was that for a young lady such as Polly?
Besides that, she seemed to want nothing to do with him, particularly after his words against Lord Yardley.
He shook his head to himself, turning up his collar against the rain. It did not matter what he thought of Lady Polly, for she did not so much as notice him. The only thing he could do was to continue to look out for her, as a friend of her sister’s. At the very least, Lord Yardley did not know his name and, hopefully, in his befuddled state, would not be able to recognize Sebastian should they meet again.
Other than that, he had failed entirely.
8
Polly found herself humming with delight as her maid, Lucy, came in to lay out her clothing for the evening’s festivities. It was to be a masquerade, which she found altogether thrilling.
“Oh Lucy, tonight should be such fun,” she said, as she held her mask up to her face. It went round her eyes, tying at the back of her head. Lucy promised she could integrate the ties into her hair style for the evening. The aquamarine and purple of the mask matched the ostrich plume that rose from it, and Polly thought she looked rather daring in it.
“Is it not so exciting, to be able to hide one’s true identity?” she asked, and Lucy gave her a smile. She had been with the family for years, her mother having served Marie. Polly and Lucy had practically grown up together, although Lucy, no doubt instructed by her mother, always ensured their friendship never became too close to cross any boundaries.
“I do not think that mask will fool anyone, Lady Polly,” Lucy said with a laugh. “Why, the blonde of your hair will be obvious to anyone who knows you, and just because your eyes are covered does not mean the rest of your face isn’t visible.”
Polly herself chuckled. “I suppose the point of masquerades are to feel as though you are hiding, to be given the possibility of acting not as you ought to but as you want to.”
“I suppose,” said Lucy with a bit of a shrug. “Though come the next day, everyone will know one another’s business anyway.”
“This is true,” said Polly, as she sat on the stool before the mirror and rested her chin on her fist. She met Lucy’s brown eyes in the mirror. “I have told Lord Yardley what I will be wearing, anyway,” she said with a bit of a whisper, and Lucy looked at her in surprise.
“Is he courting you now, then?” she asked.
“Officially, not yet,” Polly responded, “Although he said he will speak to Papa the moment he arrives in London, which should be rather soon as he has business to attend to. Oh, Lucy, Lord Yardley is such a handsome man, and so utterly charming. Why, even Mama is slowly beginning to like him!”
“She has had reason not to?” Lucy asked, a bit of concern touching her face.
“Oh, there have been some rumors of Lord Yardley’s past,” Polly said, disregarding them with a wave of her hand. “But that is all they are — idle gossip among those who have nothing better to do but speak poorly of others. Lord Yardley may have had an indiscretion or two in the past, ’tis true, but that doesn’t mean one cannot change his ways, does it?”
“I suppose not,” said Lucy, as she took up Polly’s comb and let down the tangle of blonde curls. “Although you best be careful, my lady.”
“Of course, Lucy,” Polly responded, though her thoughts had moved on to the evening at hand. “I always am.”
Sebastian was somewhat nervous as he knocked on the door of the Duke of Ware’s London townhouse. He knew it was rather odd to show up unannounced in the middle of the day, but he felt as if he had run out of options. He had tried confronting Yardley, had attempted to speak to Polly, and had also worked with his informants to try to determine when Yardley would try to win his bloody bet.
Unfortunately, Yardley was keeping his plans closely guarded. How callous could some men be? Yardley was willing to ruin a girl’s entire life simply for some coin and to further his own daring reputation.
The door was opened by a butler, who showed him into a decidedly female sitting room. The Duchess of Ware awaited him wearing a polite smile, but Sebastian knew she would have been preparing for the masquerade and was likely somewhat put out by the timing of his visit.
“Lord Taylor,” she said as he gave her a slight bow. “How lovely to see you. Please, sit,” she bade him, gesturing toward a seat on the sofa opposite her, but he noted she did not call for tea. Clearly, she expected this visit to be short, though he could see the curiosity in her gaze. Polly did not look much like the Duchess. She must take after her father’s side, Sebastian thought. He was pulled out of his reveries when the Duchess cleared her throat.
“Thank you for seeing me, Your Grace,” he began. “I know it is rather odd for me to call on you, particularly at this time of day and without your husband in residence.”
She said nothing, although she did not disagree with him.
“We have spoken before about Lord Yardley, who has continued to bestow his affections upon Lady Polly,” he said, looking at her to gauge her reaction. The woman was well practiced, however, and showed no reaction to his words.
“Yes,” she replied. “He has. And I do appreciate your thoughts on the gentleman, Lord Taylor, however I am beginning to believe that he may have come round and changed his ways.”
“I understand,” he said slowly, trying to determine the best way forward. “However, I have come upon information that leads me to believe that Lord Yardley would like to … add Polly to his list of conquests, if you will.”
“Conquests?”
Sebastian's eye twitched. He was not used to discussing such matters with a lady, particularly one like the Duchess of Ware, with her quick mind and practiced manner.
“Lord Yardley has made a bet with his friends that he can secure Polly’s affections,” he said.
“Oh, dear,” said the Duchess, as she sat quietly for a moment. “How can you be certain?”
“I overheard him discussing the matter.”
“I see. And what does he mean to do with those affections?”
“Do?”
“Yes. Is that not the point of courting? If he wins her affections, will he not then continue to court her, to marry her?”
“Well, I … I suppose that is the usual way of things,” Sebastian stammered. He knew very well that Yardley had no intention of doing such a thing
, but he also had no proof of the situation, nor Yardley’s thoughts. “I do not believe that is his objective, however.”
The Duchess stood and began to walk about the room as she addressed him.
“I must admit, Lord Taylor, that I would have thought the same myself at one time, having heard of the man’s reputation,” she said. “However, in the past few weeks, I have come to know Lord Yardley rather well. He seems completely smitten with Polly, and his intentions do seem honorable.”
She stopped in front of him.
“I appreciate you coming here, Lord Taylor, I do. I know you are well acquainted with my son-in-law, and are simply looking out for the family. However, I have also noted your apparent interest in my daughter. I must ask you, Lord Taylor, have you come out of concern for Polly, or are you trying to rid yourself of a rival?”
Sebastian looked at her, aghast. He had never considered this to be an outcome of his visit. He knew there had been the chance she wouldn’t believe him, but not because she thought him interested in Polly himself.
“Not at all, Your Grace,” he said when he found himself finally able to reply. “That is, your daughter is very lovely and any gentleman would be fortunate to have her as a wife, but my intentions for warning you are noble. I simply want to ensure that the man does not ruin another young woman, your daughter in particular. Many discreet complaints have been brought against him by fathers of other ladies. They have simply not made it widely known, as to do so may further ruin their daughters.”
The Duchess frowned, and Sebastian could see the confusion etched on her face, until finally she forced a smile onto it.
“I do thank you for your concerns, Lord Taylor,” she said. “I will take them into consideration and provide Polly with the proper warning.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Sebastian said, as he rose with the Duchess, realizing there was no more he could say. “I do appreciate you taking my call.”
With that, he made his way out the door of the drawing room and was down the stairs when he heard a noise from above.
“Lord Taylor?” He heard his name once again, and he looked up to see a beautiful, curious face staring down at him. Half of Lady Polly’s hair was piled on top of her head, the rest spilled around her shoulders. Clearly, it was not finished, but he loved the look of it as loose and carefree as she was.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, a questioning look on her face as she slowly descended the staircase until coming to a stop on the second bottom step so that their faces were level.
“I had a matter to speak with your mother about.”
“My mother?” Her nose scrunched up in perplexity. “That is rather odd.”
“That may be,” he said. “But it is the truth.”
He could have told her the reason he was here, but he knew to do so again would only cause her to put more defenses up against his words. He had tried speaking to her, but she was looking through the lens of a woman who thought herself to be in love, and that was something he could not change.
“I believe I shall be seeing you tonight at the Duke of Stowe’s masquerade,” he said, donning his hat once more.
“Ah … yes,” she responded. “Though you will hardly know who I am, now will you?”
“Ah, Lady Polly,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “You do not know me well at all. I love a good mystery.”
“Mama!” Polly hurried down the hall to her mother’s chamber. She was rather confused by Lord Taylor’s visit and his words to her, not to mention the thrill she had felt upon seeing him. What was that about? Was she not to have such feelings only for Lord Yardley?
“Oh Mama, you look lovely,” Polly said, coming to a stop at the door of her mother’s rooms and admiring the beautiful blue silk that hugged her figure where it best suited her.
“Thank you, darling,” her mother replied, then bade her to enter.
“Mama, whatever was Lord Taylor doing here? And why did he want to speak with you?”
“Can a gentleman not call in the middle of the day wanting to speak to your mother?
“He can, but I will find it rather strange.”
Marie laughed then turned to face her. “It was nothing. Simply a message for me to try to provide to your brother-in-law as Lord Taylor is having a hard time in reaching him.”
“How can that be?” Polly asked. “I received a note from Violet only yesterday.” She paused a beat, realizing what Lord Taylor’s true purpose must have been. “He was here about Yardley, wasn’t he? Oh, I wish he would just leave it alone!”
“Well, perhaps he does have a bit of a point,” said Marie. “You must be careful with Lord Yardley, Polly. I know he is rather dashing, and he does come from a good family, but still, oft’times when there are rumors there is some truth to them.”
“He has admitted as such, Mama, but do you not believe a man can change, especially when he meets a woman he truly cares for?” Polly asked.
Marie raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you are right, Polly,” she said, though somewhat reluctantly. “A man can change.”
She turned back to the mirror to view the progress her maid was making with her hair. Polly knew she was attempting to cleverly hide the few strands of gray that were beginning to course through her dark locks. As Marie looked at them worriedly, Polly came up behind her.
“Don’t worry about those, Mama,” she said, swooping down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You are beautiful just the way you are.”
“Ah, sweet girl,” said Marie. “Now, scoot. We have only a few short hours and you must be ready.”
“All right!” Polly said with a laugh, and took off back down the hall, eager to don the dress that made her feel like a princess at her coronation ball.
9
Sebastian was, by this point, rather frustrated. All his hopes had been dashed. Lady Polly was ignoring his advice as regarded Lord Yardley, and Yardley was practically oozing with confidence.
He was attending yet another ball — a masquerade no less — and had arrived earlier than he would normally, mostly so that he could watch and wait for Lady Polly and Lord Yardley’s meeting. Unfortunately for him, he had seen the way Lord Yardley had practically pounced on Lady Polly the moment she stepped through the door of the Duke of Stowe’s home, even though this was a masquerade ball. It was quite obvious that she had either told him or shown him what her mask would be, which meant that it was no challenge for Lord Yardley to secure her hand and dot his initials down on her card for his chosen dances.
Not that many would be unsuspecting of Lady Polly’s identity, especially given that her mother followed behind her with the smallest of masks on her face. Evidently, the Duchess did not care for her identity to be concealed, especially when she was meant to be chaperoning her youngest daughter. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, Sebastian was not quite sure.
Polly was resplendent in a long satin gown of purple and aquamarine, quite striking against her own pale coloring. Something like anger balled inside him, his gut clenching as he watched Yardley press a rather prolonged kiss to the back of Lady Polly’s hand. She smiled up at the man, clearly quite taken with him. It had not mattered a jot what her mother — nor he — had said about Lord Yardley, Lady Polly had chosen to ignore it all entirely.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Sebastian clenched the balcony rail and tried to think what he might do. He could not get the lady from his mind, finding that he had become more and more concerned for her as the weeks had gone by. Three weeks it had been since he had last heard Lord Yardley speak about his intention to conquer Lady Polly and Sebastian was in no doubt that the man fully intended to do what he had so proudly stated. He had tried to warn the girl, but the more he said to her, the more determined she was to prove him — and everyone else — wrong.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the lady in question, Sebastian steeled his resolve and moved a little farther along the balcony. He would not rush down and remove Polly from Yardley’s arm,
even though everything in him yearned to do so. Rather, he would simply have to wait, enduring while the ball continued on.
It was rather a long wait. Yardley relinquished Polly to other gentlemen who claimed her for their dances but was almost immediately back by her side soon after. Of course, he could not dance with her more than twice but that did not prevent him from staying by Lady Polly’s side as an ardent admirer might. Even the Duchess appeared to be taken in by Yardley’s zeal, for she talked with him quite happily and even waved her daughter and Lord Yardley away onto the dance floor when it came their time to dance.
Sebastian gritted his teeth as he saw the Duchess, her small mask revealing most of her face, talking animatedly with another masked lady, gesturing toward her daughter and Lord Yardley. It appeared Sebastian’s words of warning only a few hours earlier hadn’t had much effect.
Of course, Yardley was running the risk of the Duke’s wrath falling on his head should he do anything to disgrace Lady Polly – but Sebastian knew that Yardley was hoping Lady Polly’s shame would be so great that she would not speak of it to her father. Lord Yardley would simply proclaim himself the victor amongst his friends. There might be whispers and rumors, but both Yardley and Lady Polly would deny them, and, in time, society would move on to a better piece of gossip.
Sebastian’s hands tightened on the rail as he thought of all those Yardley had mistreated before Lady Polly. He would ensure that, this time, he was brought to an abrupt end.
A sudden movement caught his eye as Sebastian realized he’d allowed his gaze to drift away. Polly was being walked toward the doors at the back of the ballroom that led into the gardens – and was gazing up at Yardley with such adoration, she didn’t spare even a backward glance toward her mother.
Cursing, Sebastian hurried along the balcony and down the staircase, knowing he was about to lose sight of them. Once they entered the gardens, he might not be able to find them as easily as he had hoped. Yardley would take her somewhere discrete in order to try and press his attentions upon her, which meant that there was no time to lose. He had to find them, before it was too late.
Hope of Romance_A Historical Regency Romance Page 6
