Hope of Romance_A Historical Regency Romance

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Hope of Romance_A Historical Regency Romance Page 18

by Ellie St. Clair


  “Indeed, you are,” Greville replied, stepping forward to shake Sebastian’s hand. “Thank you, old boy.”

  Sebastian, who had been silent up until now, rose and shook not only Greville’s hand, but also the Duke’s. He did not look at Polly, but cleared his throat and nodded to them each in turn, keeping his eyes lowered.

  “I am very glad to have brought the matter to such a swift and satisfactory conclusion. Lord Yardley’s behavior toward Polly and others could not go unpunished. I am glad that at least one scourge of society has been dealt with.”

  The Duke smiled broadly. “Indeed. Thank you again, Taylor. We owe a great debt of gratitude toward you.”

  Polly sat, wrapped in frustration, as Sebastian took his leave, retiring for the night to his bedchamber. Her sister and brother-in-law did the same and, after a few moments of hesitation, her mother followed suit.

  Polly, however, was not tired in the least. She was more than aware that this was the last night that she and Sebastian would spend together under the same roof, and she was upset that they had not had the opportunity to speak in private.

  “You look troubled, my dear,” her father commented, sitting back down opposite her. “Is everything all right? You are not upset at how things took place today, are you?”

  “No, not in the least!” Polly exclaimed at once, not wanting her father to think that she was not thankful for all that had occurred. “It is just that…” She trailed off, not quite sure whether or not she could reveal the truth to her father.

  “Is it something to do with Lord Taylor?” her father asked, quietly. “No, you need not look so surprised.” He chuckled as Polly’s eyes shot to his, her mouth a little ajar. “It is not as though I have not been in love myself.”

  This was not the kind of conversation Polly was used to having with her father, and she found it more than a little strange. Her cheeks heated as she shrugged, not quite able to look at him. “I suppose it may be,” she murmured, the truth spilling from her lips. “I love him, Papa.”

  “And he does not care for you?”

  Finally looking over at him, Polly let out a long breath. “Yes, he does, I am sure of it, but he does not believe that he is the right gentleman for me. He believes that my feelings for him will fade in time, that I only carry affection for him because of how he saved me from such an unfortunate situation.”

  “I can see that this would be frustrating,” her father replied, a little more solemnly.”

  “And he thinks I want the glamor of London, although that couldn’t be further from the truth. Would you accept him, Papa?” Polly asked, a little desperately. “I know he does not have a title, that he is a second son, but he is a good man and if he were to ask for my hand, then—”

  “I would give him my blessing without question,” her father assured her, a smile spreading across his face. “You need not concern yourself in that regard, Polly.”

  A long breath of relief escaped from her. “I had worried that, after all the rumors, and his place in society, you might not approve of him for me.”

  Her father laughed. “Your brothers married a maid and a pirate,” he said. “And you are worried about a second son?”

  Polly gasped. “I always thought the same of Eleanor!” she said, and her father chuckled.

  “Well, let’s just say I have my suspicions. You all think I don’t know what happens around here, but I am more astute than you think. My point is, what truly matters is that my children are happy. On that account, I think he is a man worthy of you, and you of him,” her father replied softly, getting to his feet and coming over to press a light kiss to her cheek. “I have no doubt that there will be a wedding very soon.”

  Polly smiled, appreciating his words. “Thank you, Papa. Are you retiring?”

  “I am,” he replied, with a chuckle. “It is rather late, and your mother will be worried for me if I do not rest soon. I shall see you in the morning.”

  Bidding him goodnight, Polly sat quietly in her chair, looking into the fire’s flickering flames. This was the night she had planned for, the night when she would make Sebastian open his eyes to what he felt, and to what she felt for him in return.

  Anxiety clawed at her skin, her stomach turning over itself as she considered what she was about to do. He could easily reject her, of course, but she prayed he would not.

  Her heart pounding in her chest, Polly made her way from the drawing room to her bedchamber, relieved that she had sent Lucy away on her return to the house, even though she had been forced to take her into her confidence earlier that day. Thankfully, Lucy was more than loyal to her and Polly knew she would not breathe a word of what she was being asked to do.

  She walked to her dressing table and lifted the lid of her jewelry box and found the key Lucy had secured earlier that day. Her heart beat so wildly now that she thought she might faint. Drawing in a deep breath, she picked it up and set it on the table, before struggling to step out of her gown.

  It was rather difficult to do it all on her own but, eventually, her dress was pooled on the floor, and Polly stood in her room, clad in only her shift and her wrapper. Even her feet were bare. Her blood continued to pound in her veins, filling her body with a fire she had not expected.

  Praying that no one would see her and that she would have the courage to do what she had planned, Polly unlocked her bedchamber door and, with the key in her pocket, made her way quietly along the hallway.

  The entire house was silent, with only a few candles flickering here and there. Polly was glad that she knew the house well, able to make her way through it without too much difficulty. The occasional creak had her wincing, as though someone might step out from somewhere and demand to know what she was doing – but, of course, no one did.

  The door she needed was already open and Polly quickly stepped inside, wondering if Sebastian would hear her. He did not know, of course, that the dressing room that adjoined his room was shared with this one – and he would certainly not be expecting her to have the key to that door.

  She drew in a long breath, setting her shoulders and, much to her astonishment, feeling more alive than she had ever felt before. Her heart was racing, her entire body burning with an unquenchable fire.

  She needed him.

  Her fingers trembled as she stepped into the dressing room, glad that she had brought a candle with her. Using its light, she pulled the key from her pocket and placed it into the lock, wincing when it grated loudly as it turned.

  Opening the door slowly, she waited for a moment, just in case Sebastian leapt forward with a shout, demanding to know who it was that had approached him.

  There was nothing but silence.

  Stepping inside, Polly surveyed the room. The remains of a small fire glowed in the grate, given that it had been a little chilly on their return from the ball, but apart from that there was no light. Carefully, she pulled the door closed and locked it again, ensuring that no one would disturb them.

  Soft breathing came from his bed. Her heart thudded so loudly she was sure he would waken. After placing the candle on the table to her left, Polly untied her wrapper, shivering with a sudden delight at what she was about to do.

  Walking toward the bed, her feet making no sound, Polly looked down at the man she loved, seeing only the outline of his face as the candle flickered.

  “Oh, Sebastian,” she whispered, trailing her fingers along the skin of his strong jaw. “Do not reject me now.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair, and leaned in to kiss the soft lips of his sleeping face. His eyes began to flutter open, and she heard his breath catch as he jerked into wakefulness.

  “Sebastian,” she said, her voice shaking as she put one hand on his chest, realizing that it was bare. “Sebastian, it’s me.”

  “Polly?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. “Polly!” he exclaimed, his eyes flying open as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, realizing where he was and who was with him. “What on earth
are you doing here?”

  He reached out a hand to touch her, and his fingers wrapped around her arm.

  “I need you, Sebastian,” she replied, reaching for him in the darkness as she sat down beside him on the bed. “Don’t turn from me. Please don’t make me beg.”

  He shook his head, his body rigid. “We can’t — Polly, this evening ensured that you would not be ruined, but rather have a reputation that would allow you to have the Season you deserve, find the man you are looking for. I’ll not ruin you all over, bringing the gossip to truthful fruition. I am a better man than Yardley.”

  “You are so much more than him,” she replied, suddenly filled with fright that he might reject her. “You will not listen to my words, so I must show you that I do not want another Season. I do not want another man. I would gladly be ruined by you. I want to be tied to you for the rest of my days and since you are being such a pigheaded fool, I must show you how I feel.” She placed one hand on his leg and felt him jump, although he did not pull back.

  “I am terrified and hopeful all at once,” she whispered, turning toward him a little more. “I cannot let you go back to your estate, not when my love for you burns so fiercely that I know it could never be put out.”

  He groaned, flopping back onto his pillows, one hand over his eyes as though to block out the sight of her.

  A little uncertain as to what he intended, Polly waited quietly, her hand still resting on his thigh through the blanket, the only thing separating the two of them.

  “Polly,” he whispered, slowly turning toward her and putting one hand on the curve of her waist. “I do not know what to do with you. I am a patient, stubborn man, it’s true, but I can only hold myself back from you for so long.”

  She smiled then, lifting her hand to settle it on his chest. “Then don’t. Do you love me, Sebastian?”

  “Yes,” he groaned, as though the word was dragged from him. “I cannot deny it. I love you, Polly Harrington. I never thought it would be possible to feel such emotions for another, but you have completely captivated every part of me.”

  “And I love you,” she replied, softly. “I do not want anyone other than you.”

  He shook his head, lowering it for a moment before looking back up at her, staring at her so intently she could practically hear him thinking.

  “You would give up London and all the excitement society has to offer?”

  She waved a hand in the air. “I hate it now. I realize the false facades people wear, the truth they hide underneath layers of frivolity. I have never felt such contentment as I did with you at the Greville estate. Did I find my own country home rather boring at times? Yes. But if I had purpose, if I had love … that would not be the case. The only reason I ever wanted a Season was to find a man of my own, someone who would love me and care for me, who would be my partner and share his life with me. You have proven to be all that and more.”

  “You know I am not a young, carefree spirit like yourself. I am not only older than you but rather staid and set in my ways.”

  She smiled. “I think I need someone like that. Just as you need someone like me to add a little light to your life.”

  The stern expression on his face broke then, and a slight smile tugged at his lips as he looked at her intently.

  “In that case, Polly, I must ask — will you be my wife?”

  Joy exploded through her. “Of course, I will,” she whispered, her hand creeping up around his neck, her fingers brushing through his hair. “I have wanted nothing else, Sebastian.”

  He leaned forward then, crushing his lips to hers with such an ardent passion that it took her breath away. As his tongue met hers in a love play, she quickly shed her wrapper, throwing in on the floor beside her. Her feet burrowed under the blanket next to him, as she sought to be closer. Her hands ran down the hard muscle of his chest, and she longed to feel him against her. She leaned back from him, and lifted her night shift over her head as he helped her, the passion he had held away from her for so long now unleashed. Finally free of the garment, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, bringing her lips back to his as her fingers ran through the silk of his hair.

  Their skin touched, her breasts pressing against his chest as he flipped her around so that she was underneath him on the bed, and he settled over top of her, their kiss never breaking. Her body began to hum with desire, beginning to long for something that she could not quite explain. She craved his touch. Her fingers twined into his hair, her eyes closed in bliss as his hands slowly began to explore her body.

  Tentatively, she allowed her hands to run down his back, the touch stoking the fire within her.

  “You are quite sure about this, Polly?”

  His words were husky, his breath coming hard, and yet his care and consideration for her ignited the love in her heart.

  “Yes, Sebastian. More than sure.”

  He groaned and leaned down over her, clearly unable to hold himself back any longer. His hands ran down the length of her body, making her catch her breath as his mouth pressed gentle kisses down the length of her neck and toward her collarbone.

  A restless ache between her legs began to grow, making her gasp with astonishment.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, her hands reaching the curve of his back. “It’s all very … new.”

  “Give in to what you’re feeling,” he whispered, gently. “Don’t hold back.”

  His hands cupped her breasts and, unable to help herself, Polly moaned aloud, her back arching. She would not hold herself back, would not restrain herself in any way. The sound brought a flush to her cheeks but, as pleasure began to course through her veins, she found that it escaped from her mouth yet again.

  “Polly,” Sebastian whispered, his head lowering to her breasts. “You are so beautiful.”

  She wanted to reply, wanted to tell him just how much he meant to her, but as his mouth ran across her breast, Polly found she could only gasp in response. Her body arched upwards as he remained there, her hands grasping Sebastian’s shoulders as he continued his gentle exploration of her body.

  She thought she might explode.

  “Don’t be afraid of this,” Sebastian whispered, his mouth lowering farther still along her stomach, his lips teasing her skin as he ran his hands down the length of her thighs. Polly’s core seemed to ignite as her body began to writhe of its own accord as she drowned in the sensations he brought her.

  He was gentle and calm, touching her most intimate folds with such tenderness and care. She had never been touched in such a way before, and she cried out as a wave of desire crashed through her, taking her breath from her body.

  “Let yourself go,” Sebastian murmured, as though she was meant to know what to do. “Don’t fight this feeling, Polly.”

  He remained where he was, bringing her gently to a crescendo and, as Polly felt her body twist helplessly under his ministrations, he was right there beside her, whispering words of love as her body began to pulse wildly.

  And then, something was pressed against her center, there was a sharp pain – and she cried out in surprise and fright.

  “It’s all right,” Sebastian said, cradling her face in his hands as he stayed exactly where he was, unmoving. “This will pass. It is the first time, that is all.”

  Polly opened her eyes and looked up at him, his expression of love caught by the candlelight. The pain began to ebb away, her body softening beneath his as she realized what had happened.

  “This is the ultimate expression of our love,” he said, quietly, beginning to move within her. “I swear that I will love you until the end of my days, Polly.”

  She closed her eyes and arched back against the pillow, feeling desire burn within her again as he thrust a little faster. To be this intimate, to be this exposed, meant more to her than she could ever express.

  Her body went taut, her eyes slamming closed as she groaned aloud and an explicable feeling cascaded over her. Sebastian went over t
he edge with her, throwing his head back as he convulsed with passion. She held onto him, their bodies still joined, heat burning deep within her core.

  “I love you, Sebastian,” she whispered, as he slowly lowered himself, his lips nipping and kissing her neck, her cheek, her mouth.

  “I love you, Polly,” he replied, his breathing still hard. “I do not think I can ever bring myself to be separated from you again.”

  She smiled then, her heart lifting. “Good. I do not intend to be parted from you for the rest of my days, Sebastian. You are the only man in the world for me and I will hold you in my heart forever.”

  Epilogue

  Sebastian had suggested their wedding be a small, private affair, and Polly and her mother had agreed.

  Then the two women had planned the wedding of Polly’s dreams, and Sebastian could do nothing but shake his head and smile at the lively spirit of his wife. Her entire family had come to witness the event, as had his parents and older brother, who made the journey from their various estates. They were wed at his own country estate, not so far from the Greville’s, much to Polly’s delight when she found out it was less than a half day’s ride to see her sister.

  Sebastian leaned back against a column in his ballroom as he watched dancers flit around the floor. His new bride was resplendent as he watched her laughing with Violet and their sisters-in-law. They were a rather lovely bunch of women, although none could come close to matching Polly.

  “Taylor,” came a gravelly voice in his ear, and he turned to find his face level with a broad chest. He looked up to find the stern countenance of a man somewhat familiar. He looked like the Duke of Ware, although less heavyset and with far fewer wrinkles. He also lacked the jovial countenance of the man who had sired him.

  “Lord Harrington,” he said with a bit of a bow to Polly’s eldest brother. “I am pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

  He had seen the man before, at Greville’s wedding, but had not taken the opportunity to speak with him. Daniel Harrington was a rather intimidating sort, that was for certain.

 

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