Hope of Romance_A Historical Regency Romance

by Ellie St. Clair

  “Stay, will you?” Polly asked, looking up at her sister. “I know it is probably quite ridiculous to worry that Mama has heard something, but I should like your company.”

  Violet smiled and came to sit beside Polly, who had taken a seat on a small bench overlooking the ponds.

  “I am sure Mama is just a little worried about you,” Violet said, soothingly, as Polly broke the seal. “After all, it is rather strange that you left London so quickly without providing her much explanation.”

  “Not strange enough for her to come with me,” Polly replied, with a hint of bitterness. “I thought parents were meant to care for their children.”

  Violet put one hand on Polly’s arm. “Polly, you know how Mama is. She does care for you, but she also cares a great deal about her own reputation. She enjoys society and all it offers her, especially during the summer months. Given that you did not tell her the truth about why you left, is it any wonder that she did not accompany you?”

  Polly sighed and dropped her head, aware that her sister was right. “Of course, I know this. But you know Mama. I could not tell her. For one, she had warned me off of Lord Yardley from the start, so I would have proven her right. And then she would have been so ashamed of me.”

  “She might have understood, Polly,” Violet replied, softly. “Our mother loves us fiercely and I do not think she would have forced you into a marriage with a man you despised. She was taken in by him too, don’t forget, as he worked hard at charming you both. And Papa – I dare not think of his wrath if he had known of Lord Yardley’s behavior.”

  A small smile on her face, Polly drew in a long breath and set her shoulders. “Of course. You are quite right. Fortunately I had Lord Taylor to put my trust in, although he also advised me to tell Mama and Papa. He was proven right as well, although he didn’t gloat about it the way our brothers would have, which I was quite grateful for.”

  Violet studied her for a moment. “Do you miss him?”

  Polly looked up at her sister, aware that her cheeks were burning. “It is ridiculous, I know.”

  “On the contrary,” Violet said at once, smiling at her. “I think it is lovely. Lord Taylor is a good man, Polly.”

  “There is nothing between myself and Lord Taylor other than friendship, Violet,” Polly replied, quickly. “Please, don’t start hoping for more.”

  Her sister said nothing but gave a small shrug in return, a knowing smile on her face. Polly shook her head and laughed, aware that her sister was being coy deliberately. The tension gone, she picked up her mother’s letter and began to read it aloud.

  “My dear Polly,” she began, glancing up at Violet who smiled encouragingly. “I have missed you from London. When do you think you might return? Your father and I were hoping for a match for you this Season and you cannot do such a thing unless you are here in town! I do hope nothing has occurred of a grievous nature that keeps you away from here. Your ever-loving mother, etc.…”

  “You see?” Violet exclaimed, a delighted look on her face. “I told you that there was nothing to worry about.”

  Polly frowned, aware that there was more written on the back, more she had not read.

  “Wait a moment,” she mumbled, turning the letter over. “There is more.” Something began to roll around in her stomach, sending waves of nausea crashing over her.

  “‘My dear Polly, I am hastily adding to my letter because I am rather shocked by what I have heard. My dear friend has told me that there is a rumor only beginning to be whispered about you. The rumor is that you have left London due to some terrible mishap with a gentleman – although I am unsure of who the gentleman might be. I must ask you to write back to me to confirm or deny such a claim. I will have no stain on your reputation!’”

  Polly caught her breath, looking over at Violet, who had a worried expression on her face. Looking back down at the letter, she drew in a breath and read the final paragraph.

  “‘I am caught now by a terrible notion that the gentleman you were so keen to travel with, Lord Taylor, is the man in question. Has he assaulted you in some way, Polly? Have you dragged him to Greville’s home, since he might listen to his close friend? Or do you have some secret liaison you wished to keep from me? I am truly concerned for you, my dear, although I will not speak of it to your father just yet. Write to me at once. I must know all!’”

  Polly stared down at the letter, her hands beginning to tremble as she read the last few lines over and over. Her mother thought that Taylor was the man who had taken liberties with her when, in truth, he had done the exact opposite.

  “How terrible,” Violet whispered, putting her hand on Polly’s shoulder. “You must write to Mama at once, Polly. She cannot be allowed to continue to think so ill of Lord Taylor. That is not fair.”

  “No, it is not,” Polly whispered, one hand pressed against her beating heart. “I do hope Mama has not said anything to anyone else.”

  There a short pause. “I am sure she hasn’t,” Violet replied, with a certainty Polly did not quite feel. “She will want to protect your reputation in any way she can.”

  Polly nodded slowly, her eyes dropping to the grass by her feet. “He will regret coming with me,” she whispered, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “I begged him to come and, out of the goodness of his heart, he did so, only to now have his name dragged through the mud.”

  “It is not quite as bad as all that,” Violet replied, practically. “Come now, if you write to Mama this very moment then she will have the letter soon and can deny the accusations. I will have Joshua send his fastest rider. There will be no opportunity for Lord Taylor’s name to become entangled with yours.”

  Not quite managing to feel the same hope her sister did, Polly got to her feet and began to walk back toward the house, her heart sinking into her toes. Lord Taylor would want to return to his country estate the moment he heard about this, she was sure. He would not want to involve himself further with her, not when such a rumor could easily be spread. It was best that way, she told herself, trying to put a brave face on it. They were going to have to separate at some point, were they not?

  So why did she feel so much pain at the thought?

  Within a few minutes of getting into the house, Polly was seated at her writing desk with a tray of tea and cakes sitting on the table nearby, though her stomach was roiling too much to eat anything. Violet was pouring the tea and humming softly to herself, helping Polly to relax.

  My dear mama, Polly wrote, trying to be concise. Thank you for your letter. As I wrote to you the day after I arrived, I am very much enjoying my time with Violet and Lord Greville. Lord Taylor has always been a gentleman and has treated me with nothing but respect, so you need not worry. He is, in fact, gone to London for a time, so you may see him there.

  As for the rumor, I would beg you to take no notice of it. My absence may have been noted but in saying that I have merely gone to see my sister for a time, you should quash any such whispers. Fondest regards to yourself and Papa.

  Polly deliberately chose not to address the question of when she would return to London, finding even the thought of it rather sickening. She finished the letter with a flourish, sitting back in her chair and reading it over twice before handing it to Violet.

  “Well? Do you think that will satisfy her?”

  Violet shook her head, a look of resignation on her face. “It may satisfy her, Polly, it may not. But tell me, why do you not speak of what has gone on with Lord Yardley?”

  Heat rushed to Polly’s face. “Because she will want to know every little detail, she will want to know exactly what has occurred. It is best that she does not know too much.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Lord Yardley’s mother is a friend of hers,” Polly explained, sinking into a chair and putting her head in her hands. “I know that if I write to Mama and tell her what Lord Yardley did, then the first thing she will do will be to—”

  “To go to Lady Yardley and speak to he
r,” Violet finished, a look of understanding on her face. “And as Lady Yardley would never think ill of her son, she would only fuel the flames of the rumors about you. I see. Goodness, that rather does complicate things, does it not?”

  Polly sighed and slumped into her chair. “Yes, it does somewhat. I do not want to return to London, for I am happy here and, thanks to your generosity, I know I am welcome.”

  “She will not be content with that,” Violet warned, a wry smile on her face. “Mama knows what she wants and what she wants is for you to find a husband.”

  “Then I shall find a husband next year,” Polly replied, with a heavy sigh. “I do not wish to marry anyone at this present moment. Or perhaps I will never marry and just spend the rest of my days haunting your hallways.”

  Violet laughed softly. “Oh Polly, you have always been quite the dramatic. You will be able to find yourself plenty of ardent suitors regardless of when you return to society, I am absolutely sure of it.”

  “Thank you, Violet,” Polly replied with a smile, feeling a great deal better than when she had first come indoors. “You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better.”

  Handing Polly her cup of tea, Violet paused for a moment, a contemplative look in her eyes. “The only thing I question is where these rumors have come from and what to do about them.”

  “What do you mean?” Polly asked, the smile sliding from her face. “The rumors Mama has been told about?”

  “Yes, precisely,” Violet mused, her gaze drifting away. “Someone must have started them, for gossip always begins with one person. So, who is trying to drag your reputation down?”

  Polly frowned, sipping her tea and thinking hard. “I cannot say,” she said, slowly. “Not unless Lord Yardley is trying to do so, for whatever reason – but that would be rather foolhardy given what Lord Taylor threatened.”

  Violet shook her head, her eyes darkening just a little. “But if Lord Taylor has been here then perhaps Lord Yardley has thrown caution to the wind.”

  “But for what purpose?” Polly asked, her heart beating a little more quickly. “He can gain nothing from it.”

  Shrugging, her sister sat back in her chair. “Mayhap it is revenge for having been foiled in his attempts to win the bet,” she suggested quietly. “You said that Lord Taylor hit him rather forcefully. Is there any chance that he might have taken that badly?”

  “He is a man who claimed to always get what he wanted,” Polly agreed, slowly, her heart now clamoring wildly in her chest. “Goodness, Violet, I cannot think that…”

  “Perhaps Lord Taylor will know more when he returns,” Violet said, calmly. “I did not mean to upset you, Polly.”

  Polly shook her head. “It is a question worth asking, Violet, and you are right – Lord Taylor might be the one to give me the answers I need.” She got to her feet and made her way to the window, looking out across the gardens. Her hands clasped in front of her, she felt her heart grow heavy with all that had been discussed, more desperate than ever for Lord Taylor to return.

  18

  “You there! Lord Taylor!”

  Sebastian turned around to see a footman hailing him from a carriage standing on the side of the road.

  “Yes?” he asked, frowning as he drew nearer. “What is the meaning of this, shouting at me from across the street?”

  The footman did not look in the least bit apologetic. “The Duke requires you to attend him at once.”

  Sebastian frowned. “The Duke?”

  “Yes, the Duke of Ware,” the footman replied, holding open the door. “At once, my lord.”

  Sebastian’s frown remained, but he did as he was asked, a gnawing anxiety beginning to course through him. The Duke of Ware, Polly’s father, was not a man who could be easily refused. Sebastian had a feeling he knew why the Duke wanted to see him, and he certainly couldn’t turn down the request. He sighed as he sat in the carriage and it moved off at once, leaving him alone inside, his thoughts whirling as to what to say to the man.

  He had been intending to return to Greville’s estate that very afternoon, having made some excellent progress in his investigation of sorts. There had been some willing gentlemen ready to meet with him and he had used his contacts to find out all he could about Lord Yardley. There were still a few more details to sort out but soon, Sebastian was convinced that Yardley would get his comeuppance.

  However, what the Duke wanted with him, Sebastian was not sure. His hands curled in his lap as the carriage continued to roll across the cobbled streets of London, his worry growing with every minute. Had the man heard any fabricated rumor about him and his daughter? Did he wish to warn him away from her?

  Swallowing hard, he got out of the carriage and made his way up the stone steps. The door was already open for him and he was immediately directed up the wide staircase to the Duke’s study. He saw no sign of Polly’s mother.

  The Duke of Ware was a tall man, with broad shoulders. He did not stoop but stood at his full height, towering over Sebastian. Sebastian cleared his throat and tried to smile, bowing deeply.

  “Your Grace,” he began, hoping that he sounded confident. “Thank you for the invitation to call upon you.”

  The Duke snorted. “Hardly an invitation, Lord Taylor. Please, sit down. I have some questions I need to ask you.”

  Sebastian sat at once, aware that the Duke, who, from what he knew was typically a pleasant though absent-minded man, had not so much as smiled since he had arrived.

  “The matter is about my daughter, Polly,” the Duke began, the moment Sebastian had sat down. “She has written to us on a few occasions, but the manner of her quitting the town has brought me and my wife some concern.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Sebastian replied, folding his hands in his lap.

  “On top of which, we have heard a couple of vague whispers of late,” the Duke continued, his gaze narrowing. “Apparently someone has noticed that her absence coincided with your own.”

  Sebastian frowned, worry racing through him. “I have not hurt your daughter, Your Grace.”

  “Are you quite sure about that?” The angry gleam in the Duke’s eye made Sebastian aware that he was being scrutinized.

  “I assure you that nothing has passed between myself and your daughter,” he said, firmly. “She asked me to accompany her to Colemore, and I was willing to do so because I have not seen Lord Greville for some time and, in truth, I was thinking of quitting London myself.”

  “Why is that?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “I am not one for all the nonsense that goes on here,” he said, truthfully. “I find that there is a lot that leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth, although I would not count Lady Polly in that.”

  The Duke frowned, his forehead furrowing. “My wife has spoken highly of you, Taylor, I will not discount that. She said you have been somewhat of a protector of sorts to my daughter and apparently tried to encourage her away from a certain young man, though my wife questions the entire situation.”

  “As I said, there is a lot that leaves a bad taste, and that particular … gentleman … is included in that,” Sebastian replied, quietly. “I will not pretend that I have not come to care for your daughter, Your Grace, for that would be a lie – however, there is only a friendship between us, and I will not press her for more. You have my word.”

  The Duke took a breath and, after a few moments, nodded. “My wife told me that she thought you could be trusted, and I am inclined to believe her,” he said, quietly. “However, I must ask if there is more to this story than meets the eye. All I know is that Polly wished to spend time with her sister and, given that she is the youngest of my children, I must admit that I find it difficult to refuse her. However, I am concerned that she is now apparently refusing to return home, as though she wants to miss the rest of the Season when she had been enjoying it so very much.” He tipped his head just a little, looking carefully at Sebastian. “You have been staying with Greville, have you not? What is the m
atter with my daughter? And why will she not tell me herself?”

  Sebastian paused for a moment before replying, his mind working hard. He did not want to reveal all that had occurred, for he did not think it was his place and yet, sitting in front of the Duke, he knew he could not pretend he knew nothing. It was apparent that the Duke was upset about the entire situation, feeling in the dark in regards to all that had gone on and why his daughter was keeping it all from him.

  “Your Grace, I believe this is something Polly should share with you herself,” he said, slowly. “It is not my place to reveal what has been on her heart.”

  The Duke frowned, clearly displeased.

  “However, what I will say is that she has been badly hurt – not physically you understand – and that she needs time to heal from that.”

  “Then why will she not tell me what it is!” the Duke exploded, his face going slightly red. “She is my daughter, and my children should be able to tell me when something goes wrong. Why has she turned to you and not to myself or her own mother?”

  Sebastian pressed his lips together, aware that underneath the Duke’s anger, there was a deep, cutting pain. He was upset that his daughter had not come to him but had, instead, turned to Sebastian – a gentleman she did not know very well. The Duke’s anger was understandable.

  “Your Grace, if I may be so bold, it is because she was afraid she would bring shame to her family,” he said, as the Duke glared at him. “And, if it is any consolation, she has spoken in depth with her sister, and together we have encouraged her to come to you both with the story of what occurred.”

  The Duke sighed, his shoulders sagging as the anger seemed to go from him. “I am afraid that it is something terrible,” he said, softly, the redness slowly leaving his features. “I have been so worried that she was with child, or something else equally dreadful.”

  Sebastian drew in a deep breath and got to his feet. “Your Grace, I can assure you that there has been no physical damage to your daughter. Her heart has been broken, and she feels ashamed and embarrassed. I also believe that she worries you might do something rather drastic, should she tell you all.”