Hope of Romance

by Ellie St. Clair

  “May I engage you for a dance, Lady Polly?” he asked, with a slight bow. “I am not tardy this evening, as you see, in the hope that I might find you with a vacant space on your dance card.”

  Polly simply held out her wrist toward him. He grasped it and signed his name to the only remaining space – a waltz.

  “And I would echo your mother’s words,” he continued, as he let the card fall. “Lord Yardley is not all that he seems.”

  Lifting her chin, Polly’s indignation lit. She liked Lord Taylor, but she truly wished he would not speak ill of Lord Yardley. “I am well able to form my own opinion of the man, Lord Taylor.”

  “Be that as it may,” he replied at once, without a hint of anger, “I know Lord Yardley better than you might. There is more to him than he lets people see. He hides a great deal of himself away from your sight in the hope that your affections for him will grow.”

  “I have no affection for him,” Polly retorted, the lie tripping easily from her tongue as she felt her shoulders tighten in defense. Who was Lord Taylor, to tell her who she should and should not be interested in? “You are quite mistaken there, Lord Taylor. He is a friendly acquaintance, that is all.”

  Her mother let out a breath of relief, patting Polly on the shoulder. “I am vastly relieved to hear that, Polly. I do not trust him, even though he is the son of a very dear friend of mine. I am glad you are being wise about this. I must confess that I did seek Lord Taylor’s opinion of the man since he seemed to be acquainted with him and is such a close friend to your brother-in-law. Do not be cross with him, Polly. I trust his judgment, especially since it aligns with my own.”

  Growing more irritated by the second, Polly tried her best to smile, completely ignoring her mother’s words. She had thought her mother was warming to Lord Yardley, who had been nothing but a gentleman toward her. As far as she was concerned, both her mother and Lord Taylor did not know Lord Yardley in the way she did. She was quite sure the man he revealed to her was his true self, and with everyone else he presented a facade. The warmth in his eyes when he smiled at her could not be there if he were not genuine.

  “Thank you, Mama, Lord Taylor,” she said, a little crisply. “Now, I do believe Lord Thompson has come to secure me for his dance. Do excuse me.”

  “Of course,” her mother smiled, clearly still relieved. “Away you go, my dear.”

  Polly was so frustrated that she did not enjoy her dance with Lord Thompson in the least, even though Lord Thompson himself was rather charming. She mumbled her way through the conversation, managed to completely muddle her steps, her irritation rising with every moment, and she only just remembered to curtsy when the dance came to an end.

  Lord Taylor had absolutely no right to talk to her mother about Lord Yardley in such a way. After all, neither of them was being courted by him, which meant that neither of them had his full measure. They did not have his whispered words in their ear, nor his gentle smiles directed toward them. All they saw was his past misdemeanors, and they chose to judge him according to the gossip of the ton. Polly lifted her chin as she returned to the other guests, determined that she would come to her own conclusion once and for all.

  She would speak to Lord Yardley of his roguish ways and tell him what her mother thought of him. He would then have the opportunity to tell her the truth about his nature, although Polly was already quite sure what he would say.

  He would be honest with her, of course, and tell her that he had once behaved that way but no longer had any intentions of doing so. He knew what a courtship would lead to. Polly could think of no other reason for his affections, than that he truly wished to pursue her heart.

  When the time came for the supper dance, Polly let out a long breath of relief as Lord Yardley came to claim her, his eyes warm as he held out his hand toward her.

  “Lord Yardley,” she murmured, smiling up at him. “I am rather pleased to see you.”

  His eyebrows rose as he placed her hand delicately on his arm. “I am delighted to hear it,” he replied, smiling. “I very much enjoyed our first dance.”

  Polly had enjoyed it too, of course, but given that it had been a quadrille, she had been unable to have much of a conversation with him. “What I mean is, I have been looking forward to speaking with you.”

  Lord Yardley frowned. “It seems something has upset you.”

  “You are very perceptive, my lord,” Polly replied, a little surprised that he knew from her expression what was going on in her heart. “Yes, I have been a little troubled this evening, which is why I have been waiting to speak to you.”

  “Then perhaps a rather private table might be in order. Shall I ensure one?” he replied, as the music began. “Just a few more minutes, Lady Polly, and then you shall have me all to yourself.”

  As they began to dance, Polly felt herself relax, the tension slowly rolling away from her shoulders. Lord Yardley would understand why she asked him such things, she was quite sure of it. He had no reason to think that her own affections were not already engaged, given how warm she had been toward him and how welcoming she had been whenever their paths had crossed. She had delighted in his company and been thrilled that he had called upon her so often, despite her mother’s initial sourness. Mayhap he would soon ask for permission to officially court her, and, should he do so, Polly would certainly accept. Her father being away from London for so long, she was sure Lord Yardley could begin to court her without his permission, as long as he continued to prove that he had left his roguish ways behind. She would tell him so tonight.

  “Now,” Lord Yardley began, as the music came to an end and the guests began to make their way through the ballroom toward the refreshments. “You must tell me what is on your mind, for I believe it will be some time before we can find a table!”

  “It is rather a crush,” Polly agreed, seeing her mother waving at her from the front of the crowd. She pretended not to see her as she much preferred to be alone for this conversation. She followed him to a recessed corner that was well out of hearing of any other guests. “Well, to be truthful, Lord Yardley, I am having a rather dreadful time as I continue to hear of your rather … sullied reputation.”

  Lord Yardley stared at her, a look of astonishment on his face. “Sullied?” he repeated, one hand on his heart. “Goodness, I am sorry to hear that. Sullied by whom?”

  Polly hesitated, not wanting to bring her mother’s name nor Lord Taylor’s into disrepute. “A few people have mentioned your reputation to me, Lord Yardley, and so it does become somewhat difficult to know what to believe.”

  There was a moment’s pause and, much to her surprise, Lord Yardley hung his head. “I am truly sorry,” he mumbled, looking quite ashamed of himself. “I should have known that my past would catch up with me.”

  Feeling terribly guilty for having raised the subject, Polly grasped his arm. “Please, don’t feel ashamed on my account,” she exclaimed, looking up earnestly into his eyes. “I must tell you now that I am doing all I can to ensure that not everyone believes that a man’s past must damage his future.”

  “You are too good, Lady Polly.” Lord Yardley sighed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, they are quite right.”

  A stone dropped into her stomach. “They are?”

  “About my past, yes, indeed,” Lord Yardley declared, still not quite meeting her gaze. “I am a man who has struggled with a great many vices, a man who has allowed his foolish, youthful nature to become dragged into pleasures instead of facing up to my responsibilities. In fact, it is only once I met you, Lady Polly, that I began to think differently.”

  Polly did not quite know what to say, though she felt somewhat flattered. “Until you met me?”

  “Of course!” he exclaimed, catching her hand. “I should tell you now, Lady Polly, that I have completely turned my back on all of my old ways, determined to become a worthy and honorable gentleman. It does not surprise me that so many of your friends and relations look upon me with a great deal of suspi
cion. In fact, it does them credit to be so careful.”

  Polly could not bring herself to agree, sighing as he smiled at her. “You are very good, Lord Yardley, to hear such criticism without becoming angry with me.”

  “Ah, but I have nothing to hide from you, my dear,” he replied, firmly. “You should know everything about me, whether good or bad.”

  “And why would that be?” Polly asked softly, looking up at him. “What is it about me that makes you feel such a way?”

  Lord Yardley paused for a moment, looking all about him, before surreptitiously catching her hand. The crowd of guests was so fixed on the prospect of supper that they did not seem to notice their actions one bit. Most had joined an overly long line and the din of the room was growing in volume.

  “Because,” Lord Yardley whispered, taking her hand into his, “because I feel such a strong, deep emotion for you, Lady Polly, that I feel as though I must bare my very soul toward you.”

  Polly did not know what to say, struck dumb by such an intimate sentiment. He lifted her hand to his mouth, making a motion as though to press a kiss to the back of it. At the last minute, he turned her hand palm upwards, his lips touching her sensitive palm through her glove. Her breath caught.

  “I intend to court you, Lady Polly,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling her hand. “I must speak to your father before any formal declaration takes place, of course, but I am making my intentions clear to you now.”

  Polly’s hand burned with heat, his lips searing her. It was a gesture that spoke of a deep affection, a gesture she had never before experienced.

  “Then may I suggest that you speak to him as soon as possible,” she managed to say, her voice shaking just a little. “I will not refuse you, Lord Yardley. I hope you know that.”

  Something glittered in his eyes, something dangerous that had her stomach swirling with all manner of emotions.

  “I am more than aware of that, Lady Polly,” he murmured, gently. “Come now, let us go in to supper.”

  7

  “Lord Yardley.”

  Sebastian’s voice was low, his expression grim. Yardley, who was now coming out of White’s in a rather slow, stumbling way, turned around to look at him, narrowing his eyes in the early morning gloom.

  “Yes?” Lord Yardley mumbled, trying to focus on Sebastian’s features. “Who’s there?”

  “It does not matter,” Sebastian muttered, thinking that it was fortunate that Lord Yardley did not seem to recognize him, despite the number of occasions they had met. Evidently, it had been worth waiting around until the man left the gentlemen’s club. Sebastian had thought to speak with him inside the club once he’d caught sight of him, but the man was continually surrounded by other gentlemen and was caught up in his cards and his drinks. Should Sebastian have made any accusations amongst a crowd, he would have been ridiculed. And so, he changed his plan and thought perhaps he would have better luck catching Yardley alone outside White’s. Unfortunately, the man had stayed until the early hours of the morning, so it was just as well the summer nights were warm and not particularly dreary, otherwise Sebastian might have found it rather onerous. “I need to speak to you.”

  Lord Yardley let out a long sigh, leaning heavily against the side of the building. “What is it?”

  Sebastian gritted his teeth, trying to keep his temper down. He had seen the way Lord Yardley had been trying to ingratiate himself with the Lady Polly and her mother, and he was growing more than a little frustrated with how well the man was succeeding. Seeing no other way forward, he had thought to speak to Lord Yardley alone, in an attempt to warn him away from the lady in question and to make him aware that his scheme was well known to Sebastian. Perhaps it would, at the very least, keep the man from taking advantage of Polly in order to win his repulsive bet.

  “Lord Yardley, I am aware of your intentions toward Lady Polly Harrington and the wager you’ve made with your friends,” he began, as the man began to smile lazily. “You must desist and leave the lady alone.”

  Lord Yardley snorted. “I hardly think so.”

  “You are not to touch her,” Sebastian continued, heatedly. “She is not for you, Yardley. Your bet is off.”

  Pushing himself away from the wall, Lord Yardley tried to stand without swaying, and, for the most part, managed somewhat successfully. “My bet and my behavior have nothing to do with you, whoever you might be.”

  “They are when they concern someone I care about,” Sebastian bit out, determined to keep a rein on his temper. “Your treatment of young ladies is utterly despicable and not what is expected of a gentleman. It has been brought to the attention of the authorities, Yardley, and if you would like to keep your reputation from being further besmirched, this must end now.”

  Sebastian saw Yardley making movements in the gloom. “Step into the light, so I can your face,” he said, but when Sebastian didn’t respond he continued, his steps sloppy.

  “You say you care for the lady, do you?” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing even farther. “What a shame she has eyes for only me. I do not even believe that she has any thoughts of you, whoever you are. You mean nothing to her. She has fallen under my spell, as it were – and I intend to keep it that way for I will be making a substantial amount of money from it.” He sniggered, mirth beginning to spill out over his features. “And no matter what you say, I shall not be ceasing in my attentions to Lady Polly. My standing as a gentleman depends on it. I am actually rather proud of my reputation as it is and must ensure I continue to uphold it.”

  Sebastian’s hand shot out, and he grabbed Lord Yardley’s collar, fury pouring through his veins and sending heat into his face. “You are to leave her alone, Yardley, or it will be all the worse for you.”

  Lord Yardley, however, did not look particularly afraid and certainly did not acknowledge Sebastian’s threat with any real concern. “Is that so?” he whispered, as Sebastian hauled him even closer, his free hand slowly curling into a fist. “Then explain to me what it is you intend to do about it?”

  The words died in Sebastian’s throat. The truth was, he could do nothing to separate Lady Polly and Lord Yardley, especially when Polly would not listen to him. He had hoped that Yardley would react to the knowledge that his bet was known to more than his friends, but apparently he had misjudged the man. He had more of an ego than Sebastian had first thought. It seemed he was not about to be put off from his plan simply because Sebastian was aware of it.

  “Lady Polly will know all,” Sebastian replied, firmly. “I will tell her of your plans, of your bet and your intentions. She will not stand for it and neither will her parents.”

  “That means she’d have to believe you first,” Lord Yardley hissed. “And have no doubt I’ll do whatever I need to in order to protect my name.”

  “It’s not a name that’s worth protecting,” Sebastian exclaimed, shaking Lord Yardley for a moment. “Debasing young ladies of the ton — it’s despicable.”

  Lord Yardley sneered, his eyes dark. “I’ll call you out as a jealous fool if you so much as dare suggest that I’d do anything to dear Lady Polly,” he whispered, making Sebastian realize that he was being outplayed. “What passes between me and the chit is none of your business, sir.”

  Sebastian, despite being shorter was much stronger than Yardley’s tall, slim frame. He slammed Yardley hard against the wall, his anger burning right through him. There was truth in what Lord Yardley was saying, something which Sebastian had not taken into consideration. If he made any attempt to publicly decry Lord Yardley with no evidence to back up his assertion, then he was in real danger of having his own credibility questioned – and possibly his life threatened in a duel. But, if he waited any longer, then Lady Polly could easily be enticed away by Lord Yardley’s words.

  If that happened, then Yardley would do just as he had done before with other young ladies of the ton – threaten to reveal all unless they kept quiet. Polly would be too ashamed to tell anyone, and Yardley would win
his bet and continue to be the conniving, cruel rogue he was.

  Sebastian knew what it was like to be one who had their feelings for another used against them, and in addition to protecting Polly’s virtue, he wanted to keep her from knowing the same pain.

  “I’d let me go, if I were you,” Lord Yardley continued, a note of danger in his voice as one used to issuing orders. “Step aside, before I call for the footmen.”

  Sebastian had no other choice but to do as the man said, shoving him back before turning on his heel and striding away. Lord Yardley’s laughter chased him down the street, reminding him of just how little he had managed to achieve. He had not prevented Yardley from pursuing Lady Polly and, even though he would speak to the lady and her mother again, he could not be assured that he would succeed in convincing them of anything. After all, Yardley was doing a wonderful job of showing just how gentlemanly he could be, convincing her that he was both dedicated and apparently filled with regret over his previous behavior.

  The only thing he could do was to continue watching Lord Yardley and Lady Polly’s interactions, hoping that he might catch the moment when Lord Yardley would try and take her someplace quiet, although Sebastian was quite sure Yardley would ensure that at least one of his friends saw him do so. How else was he to win the bet?

  Muttering darkly to himself, his face burning with frustration, Sebastian hurried farther down the street, cursing the rain that began to fall on his head. Everything seemed to be against him.

  His thoughts turned back to Polly, recalling how her eyes sparkled and her mouth always seemed to be curved into such a beautiful smile that he could not help but be captivated. It had been a long time since he had felt such a way, a long time since he had been caught up with such a lady.

  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.