Hope of Romance
Hearts of Trust Book 4
Ellie St. Clair
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
QUEST OF HONOR
Prologue
Chapter 1
The Duke She Wished For
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
More Romance Stories by Ellie St. Clair
About the Author
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Also By Ellie St. Clair
Unmasking a Duke
Happily Ever After
The Duke She Wished For
Someday Her Duke Will Come
Once Upon a Duke’s Dream
He’s a Duke, But I Love Him
Searching Hearts
Quest of Honor
Clue of Affection
Hearts of Trust
Hope of Romance
Prologue
Polly peered around the crack of the door, smiling as she took in her sister, resplendent in a long white gown, her hair held back by a diamond clip.
“You might as well come in, Polly,” Violet said, and turned to greet her as she slipped in the door. Polly sighed in awe as she circled Violet, coming to stand behind her while they looked at one another in the beveled mirror.
“Oh, Violet,” she said. “You are so utterly beautiful. Are you not absolutely thrilled?”
Violet shrugged, a slight smile on her face as she looked at Polly’s reflection. “I am looking forward to all that awaits this season,” she said. “Though from the gentlemen I have met so far, there seems to be little to hold my attention.”
“What do you mean?” Polly asked, seeing her own eyes widen in the mirror.
“I mean that I feel love may be somewhat elusive,” Violet said, her face wistful. “Though one never knows what — or whom — one may find. I am quite determined that I will not marry for any other reason, however. You shouldn’t either, Polly, when your time comes.”
“Oh, Violet,” said Polly with a laugh. “You are ever so serious. Do you really think it will be so difficult to find a man you might get along well with? Besides, the sooner you marry, then the sooner I might become more sought after.”
Violet cocked her head to the side as she and Polly gazed at one another. While Polly knew her blonde curls were the subject of many women’s envy, she thought her sister’s dark tresses were rather lovely. It was certainly hard to believe the two of them were related with the difference in their coloring, but they were as close as could be despite the four-year age difference between them.
As excited as Polly was for her sister, she also rather despaired of the day when Violet would depart their home for a new one with her future husband, leaving Polly alone with only their brothers and parents for company.
“Whoever you choose, Violet, will you please make sure he doesn’t live too far away?” Polly asked.
“I shall do my very best,” her sister responded. “Or we shall make sure when it comes time to find you a husband, he does not live so far from mine.”
“Fair enough,” Polly said, clapping her hands. “Oh, Violet, I cannot wait!” She stepped away from the mirror and began to twirl around the room, her skirts fanning out around her as she mimed dancing the waltz while humming the music she could practically hear already. She could see her partner in her mind. He was tall, handsome of course, and ever the gentleman. He told her how beautiful she was and that he would take care of her for the rest of their lives. They would have the most extravagant wedding, and he would take her to the theatre and dances and concerts and the like during the Season before they retired to his luxurious home in the country. Then they would have plenty of children together, and she would make sure they knew the same joy she had.
“What are you daydreaming about?” laughed Violet.
“The fairytale of my future,” sighed Polly.
“You are such a romantic,” Violet said, shaking her head with a smile. “Although, that is what I love about you. It will also draw many a man to you in just a few years’ time. Though your looks may be helpful as well.”
“Do you think so?” Polly asked, coming back to the mirror to take in her appearance. She leaned in for a closer look at the sapphire blue of her eyes, the pert nose that had a light dusting of freckles she rather despaired of, and the blush that had risen in her cheeks from her exertions dancing around the room.
“Oh come off it, you are very lovely already, as you well know,” Violet said, arching an eyebrow. “Now, I must no longer delay. Mama will be waiting.”
“How I wish I could go with you,” Polly said longingly. “Perhaps one day soon Mama and Papa might hold a ball here or at our country home and I can attend some of it.”
“Perhaps,” Violet said, turning to face her. “In the meantime, sister, never lose your romantic notions, but keep an eye out for scoundrels.”
“Scoundrels?”
“Yes, gentlemen who are not what they seem,” Violet said softly, raising an eyebrow as she looked at her. “They might take advantage of your trusting nature.”
“Oh Violet, you are so dramatic,” Polly said, rolling her eyes.
Violet sighed. “Well, at the very least, with all of our brothers, someone will always be watching out for you. And we well know that we will not get far without Mama. Anyway, off we go. Goodnight, Polly.”
“Goodnight, Violet.”
Polly followed her sister down the stairs, watching as she and their parents climbed into their carriage and waved goodbye. She waved until she could no longer see them and then went back inside, the tune still on her lips as she danced around the foyer, dreaming of the gentleman who would one day capture her heart.
1
Six years later
“Oh, Polly, I have some simply marvelous news for you!”
“Just a moment, Mama,” Polly murmured, setting her paintbrush carefully to the canvas. Her mother clicked her tongue rather impatiently, but Polly was not about to be put off. She had spent most of the long winter months trying to steadily improve her painting and drawing, and this piece was to be the culmination of those efforts.
She twisted her head and closed one eye to get a better look at the subject in front of her. Unfortunately, that subject had other ideas. Polly had decided to paint for her father a portrait of his beloved dog, Rufus, and while the dog had been conte
nt sleeping in the sun for some time, now that her mother had entered, he was bounding about the room excitedly. Polly had managed to sketch the dog over a series of days, and she was determined to get his shading just right.
“Off with you, Rufus,” her mother said, shooing the dog out the door before turning to her daughter, her hands now firmly on her hips. “Now Polly, will you set that paintbrush down!”
Polly sighed, then paused and, setting her head to rights, looked up inquiringly at her mother. She could not imagine what this news was, given that they had been in the country living a rather boring existence ever since the weddings of her two siblings. First, her sister had been married, followed shortly thereafter by her brother, Benjamin. That had rather shocked Polly. She had thought Benjamin would never settle down. So, too, had her mother, who had seemed utterly relieved that Benjamin had found a wife, and one who seemed to be able to keep him out of trouble.
“You are to have a brand new wardrobe!” her mother declared, excitedly clapping her hands together. “Can you believe it?”
The paintbrush fell from Polly’s hands as she stared up at her mother, excitement now beginning to swirl through her.
“The Season is soon to be upon us once more and, since it is now almost a year since your older sister married, it is high time that you find yourself in a similar situation,” her mother continued, twirling around the room as though it was she who was about to throw herself headlong into the whirlwind of London society in order to find herself a husband. “Once in London, Madame Dubois will come visit and outfit you in the finest of fashions! You do know how she is always aware of the latest styles straight from Paris.”
“Madame Dubois is not actually French, Mama, she just pretends to be so.”
Marie waved her hands in the air as if to say it didn’t really matter.
“They all do, darling. Most of the ton uses her anyhow, so it matters naught to me whether she is from the streets of St. Giles, so long as I can trust she will make sure you are noticed by all. We must get ourselves ready, however, for our time to leave will come quickly. We are to leave in two days’ time!”
“In two days,” Polly breathed, her hand covering her heart. “Oh, Mama!”
As the Duke of Ware’s youngest daughter, Polly had long been waiting for her turn to look for a suitor, ready to take the next step in life. After Violet had married, Polly had been forced to return home with her mother and father, knowing that she would have to wait for the following year’s Season before she could return to London.
She and her mother had wanted to return to the city for the ‘Little Season’ during the winter months, but the snow had caused the roads to become barely passable, meaning her father had decided it best they remain at home. The long winter had dragged at times, for Polly no longer had the company she was used to. Her oldest brother, Daniel, was still unmarried but preferred his own London home and was hardly ever present at society events. The rest of her siblings had all settled into lives and adventures of their own while she lingered at home, lost in dreams of whom she might, one day, fall hopelessly in love with.
A dream that might finally soon be fulfilled.
“I have already sent a maid to help Lucy pack your things,” her mother smiled, her eyes sparkling with glee. “Your father is to come for a short time but will return home within a sennight, leaving both you and me in London for a time. You know how much he has to do.”
Polly, her painting forgotten for the moment, felt like dancing across the drawing room, already caught up in all that might come her way. “Oh, Mama! How wonderful!”
“We already have an invitation to Lord and Lady Gregory’s ball next week, so we must ensure that you have at least one new gown by then.” Her mother’s expression softened as she reached across to take Polly’s hand. “I mean to do the best for you, my dear. No expense will be spared, I promise you that. We shall make sure that you are happy and settled by the end of the Season.”
With a wide smile blooming on her face, Polly could not help but allow hope to blossom in her heart, even though she knew it had taken her sister Violet more than a few seasons to find herself a match. Violet, however, had rather particular notions about gentlemen of the ton, while Polly was convinced it would not take nearly as much time to find the man of her dreams.
“Oh, I do hope so, Mama. I can hardly wait.” Even if she did require more than one season, however, she didn’t much mind. She would never admit it to her mother, but she was just as excited to be in London society as she was to find a husband.
“Just as it ought to be,” her mother replied, with a nod, a satisfied smile set on her face. “Finally, a child of mine who understands I want only what is best! You are young and more than pretty, as well as the daughter of a Duke. Your dowry is sizeable, and now your wardrobe should not be bested by any other young woman. You shall have men dancing all around you, desperate for your company, I promise you that.”
Getting to her feet, she smoothed her dress and then came over to Polly and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Now, I must go and see that all is being done as I asked.” She picked up Polly’s paintbrush and handed it back to her, so thrilled about her upcoming plans that she didn’t seem to notice the drop of paint on the floor, which Polly surreptitiously tried to cover with her slipper. “I will see you at dinner, my dear.”
As her mother let herself out of the room, Rufus, who had been waiting at the door, came bounding back in. Once Marie had closed the door firmly behind her, Polly let out a rather loud squeal of delight and, clasping her hands together, rose to her feet and began to dance around the room, Rufus now chasing her excitedly. As he jumped up, she grasped his paws in her hands and pretended to dance, until he barked to be let go.
Finally, finally, the attention was to be on her alone. Her mother would no longer be looking out for gentlemen for Violet, nor a wife for Thomas or Benjamin. As she had all but given up on Daniel’s marriage prospects, now her attention would be entirely fixed on Polly. Violet had despaired her mother’s constant presence, as they always seemed to be having words, but Polly didn’t mind it. True, their mother sometimes overstepped, but she was only trying to find them all settled as best she could.
Her heart beating wildly with delight, Polly looked out of the window at the familiar view. The rolling hills and small cottages would soon be replaced by the grand yet tight buildings and bustling streets of London. No longer would she spend days and nights with only her mother for company, forced to remain indoors while the wind and the rain beat down wildly against the windows.
“Mayhap I shall never live here again,” Polly whispered to herself, ignoring the slight twinge of sadness that hit her soul with that thought. “Perhaps I shall soon be mistress of my own home.”
While she had been to London before for the Season, she had never truly allowed herself to do anything more than further certain acquaintances, for she had known her father expected her older sister Violet to marry first. A sense of freedom filled her as she drew in a long breath, her smile broadening. Now if a gentleman should ask to take her for a ride in his phaeton, she would be free to accept!
Violet, of course, had been much too careful when it came to gentlemen, although Polly was glad that her sister had managed to find so kind a husband. However, Polly had always found Violet far too wary of gentlemen’s intentions, worrying that they cared only for her title and status as opposed to her heart. Polly had no such fears, for surely she would be able to tell if someone truly cared for her, would she not? Polly prided herself on being a rather excellent judge of character, and she would know if a gentleman’s whispered words of love were true.
“Two days,” she whispered, her breath frosting the window. “Two days and I will be back amongst society.”
She could hardly wait.
2
“Now remember to smile, Polly and stop looking quite so frantic, if you please.”
“I am not frantic, Mama, I am excited,” Polly exclaime
d, with a roll of her eyes. “And of course, I will smile. This is not my first foray into society, after all.”
For whatever reason, her mother continued to look rather nervous, although Polly could not understand why. After all, she was wearing a brand-new gown of the highest quality, cut to reflect the current fashions. Her mother had wanted her to wear white, but Polly had convinced her otherwise. She had chosen a light pink satin, overlaid with ivory lace to the mid-calf. The underskirt was trimmed with dozens of roses, while the puffed sleeves were adorned with beautiful detail, finished with a gathered lace trim at the sleeve hem. The bodice was also decidedly puffed, and a wide pink satin ribbon emphasized her narrow waist.
Her hair had taken hours to style. Her maid, Lucy, had artfully gathered her blonde curls at the top of her head, pinning them perfectly into place. They were set off by a beautiful headband matching the satin of her dress. All in all, Polly thought she looked rather decent, which was why she could not place her mother’s sudden anxiety.
“I do hope we will find someone to help with further introductions,” Marie murmured, as they began to descend the steps together. “After all, there were a great many young ladies married last Season!”
“And I am quite sure there will be more gentlemen,” Polly replied, soothingly. “It is not as though none of those young ladies and gentlemen did not have siblings themselves.”
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