Hope of Romance

by Ellie St. Clair

  The Duke gave a half smile, clearly aware of his outburst. “I can’t imagine why she might think that,” he said, ruefully. “I just want to know that she is safe, Lord Taylor. I have always wanted my children to be happy and settled, even though most of them have taken their own path to get to that place. Polly is the youngest, and I was glad for her that she was to have a Season all of her own. Now that seems to have been thoroughly ruined in one way or the other. I take it there is a gentleman involved?”

  “There is, but I will not speak his name nor talk about what occurred,” Sebastian replied, stoutly. “That is for Polly to do.”

  “If she ever returns to me,” the Duke muttered, passing a hand over his eyes. “I do apologize for losing my temper, Lord Taylor. My concern for my daughter has been growing steadily. In fact, I was just about to head to see Greville myself – without an invitation you understand – when the butler mentioned you had been seen in London and I thought it might be best to talk to you first.”

  “I am very glad you did, Your Grace,” Sebastian replied, feeling much more at ease with the older man. “Shall you come to Greville’s estate now?”

  There was a prolonged pause. The Duke shook his head a little, his expression one of resignation. “I do not believe I need to, not yet. From the sounds of it, my daughter will come to me and tell me all when she is ready. As much as I dislike it, she is of age and able to make her own decisions. I do not think pressing her will get her to open up to me. I can only hope that it will not be too long before she returns home.”

  Sebastian smiled and held out his hand to shake the Duke’s. “Your Grace, I promise that I shall have Polly back with you before the end of the Season,” he said, as the older man looked back at him steadily. “I cannot say too much but there will be an end to the whispers that are going around and the gentleman in question – the one who I know is attempting to spread gossip – will be shown to be the culprit.”

  The Duke sighed, looking a little happier than when Sebastian had first entered. “I take it that you have a plan then, Lord Taylor?”

  “I have indeed,” Sebastian replied, not wanting to go into too much detail until Polly spoke with the man. “It shall be dealt with very swiftly, Your Grace, and Polly shall soon be back at all the balls and recitals she could wish for. I will not allow this gentleman to continue with his roguish ways. A man like that needs to be called out for his behavior, no longer allowed to engage with society, no longer a distinguished member of the beau monde. I believe I have found a way for that to happen.”

  The Duke’s smile was a genuine one. “Then I will not keep you, Lord Taylor. Thank you for speaking with me. Do you intend to return to Greville’s estate now?”

  “This very moment,” Sebastian replied, with a quick bow.

  “Then please send my regards to my daughters,” the Duke replied, with only a slight hoarseness to his voice to betray his emotion. “And tell Polly that I am looking forward to her coming home again.”

  “Of course,” Sebastian said, with a small smile. “That will be one of the first things I shall say to her, Your Grace. Good day.”

  19

  Polly lifted the bloom to her nose and drew in its sweet scent, her eyes closing as she did so. The gardens were full of color, bringing happiness to her heart despite the growing ache within it. Lord Taylor had still not returned to the Greville estate, and Polly was surprised to find just how much she missed him.

  They had shared a great many conversations since they had first arrived at Colemore and, while she spoke to Violet and Greville himself, she still felt a deep sense of longing over Lord Taylor. In the ten days they had spent together here, Polly had felt the pain in her heart slowly begin to heal, aware that she sought out his company whenever she could. His strong, solid presence had steadied her, making her feel at peace.

  There were times she had caught him just looking at her when they were all together in the library, and her heart had grown warm as his gaze had darted away as if he had not wanted her to see him watching her so carefully. He had allowed her to paint him, despite how uncomfortable she knew it made him. She now found herself gazing longingly at the portrait, where it sat upon the vanity in her room.

  She enjoyed his company, his conversation, the way he had made her laugh even when she had been in the depths of despondency. There was no falseness with him, no pretense. He did not keep the truth about himself from her, promising to tell her the story of his past hurts. There was an openness about him, a vulnerability that drew her toward him.

  She hadn’t known what had come over her when she kissed him in the library, and she hadn’t remained long enough to know what his reaction was. She hardly knew what she wanted from the man. She had told herself repeatedly that she did not want another, and yet … she couldn’t force Lord Taylor from her thoughts. He must think her a foolish girl, however, and would only believe her to be all the more flighty that her affections had so quickly transferred from one man to another. She didn’t know how she could explain to him that what she felt toward him was so entirely different from what she had felt for Lord Yardley, and that it had been growing, nearly unbeknownst to her, for some time.

  Hearing the sound of hoofbeats coming across the lawn, Polly looked up at once to see none other than the man occupying her thoughts riding along the path toward the stables. A smile curved his lips as he took in the gardens, still evidently unaware of her presence. He seemed more handsome than she had even remembered, his sandy hair glinting in the sun. The happiness in his eyes made her heart sing and, wanting to speak to him as soon as she could, Polly stepped out into the open a little more.

  “Lord Taylor!” she called, as he rode nearer. “You have returned!”

  His smile broadened, and he reined in his horse to a walk. He stopped just before her, jumping from the saddle and throwing the reins to a groom who came hurrying across the lawn to take the horse to the stables.

  “Polly!” he exclaimed, as she came to a stop in front of him, wanting nothing more than to throw herself in his arms and hold him tightly, yet she didn’t feel it was her place to do so. “I am very glad to see you looking so content.”

  So content? That was all he had to say to her? Little did he know that little thrills fluttered through her stomach as they stood only a few steps apart, so unsure of what to do. She was equally relieved and thrilled to see him back at the estate, confused by the emotions rolling through her. Part of her had wondered if he would even come back.

  “I am very content,” she replied, unable to lift her gaze from his. “I am all the happier now that you have returned to the estate.”

  “You did not think I meant not to return, did you?” he asked, softly. “I promised I would, Polly.”

  She stepped forward, hesitantly, the urge to be near him driving her. “I missed your company, Taylor,” she said, quietly, her heart beginning to race. “It has not been the same without you.”

  “I missed you as well, Polly.” His expression softened and, much to her delight, he took her hand. “I spoke with your father. The conversation is too great to go into at this moment, but I swore I would tell you that he is sending his regards to you and looks forward to your return very much.”

  A lump formed in Polly’s throat as Lord Taylor’s hand tightened on hers.

  “You saw my father?” she whispered, not quite sure what that meant. “Is he angry with me?”

  “No, not in the least!” Lord Taylor exclaimed, looking into her eyes with such a reassuring gaze that Polly felt her anxiety hurry away. “He is worried about you, that is all.”

  “I will guess it is to do with the letter I received from my mother,” Polly muttered, passing a hand over her eyes so that she might brush the moisture from her lashes.

  “Letter? You received a letter from your mother?”

  She looked up at him, seeing the curiosity there. “I am terribly sorry, Lord Taylor, but my mother was concerned that there was something untoward between us.
She questioned whether you might have injured me in some way and that I was, therefore, dragging you along to my brother-in-law’s home – given that he is your close friend – in order to force you to make amends.” Her face burned with shame, her head dropping so that she did not have to hold his gaze. “After all you have done for me, Taylor, I am truly sorry that you have been thought of in such a way. It was unconsciously done.”

  A gentle hand touched her cheek, before catching her chin and tilting her gaze toward him. Her breath hitched as she looked into his face. He was smiling softly, his eyes almost glowing with a deep emotion – one she was too afraid to ask about.

  “My dear Polly, you must not concern yourself with that. I am not in the least bit offended, I assure you. Your mother is upset about some whispers in London, as is your father. I promise you, as I promised the Duke, that all will come to an end soon. You will be able to return to London with no stain on your reputation, no gossip spoken about you. You will have your chance to find your suitor.”

  Polly could not breathe, finding that her arms moved of their own accord until her hands were pressed lightly against Lord Taylor’s chest. At this moment, she did not want to think of any other potential suitor. She moved her hands up higher, her fingers interlocking around his neck, as she fixed her gaze on his. He did not look away, his hand dropping from her chin to run lightly down the length of her arm. She shivered as the very air seemed to spark around them. She did not know what she felt, her quivering emotions washing over her one after the other as her body acted on its own accord.

  “Polly,” he whispered, his hands settling on her waist. “Polly, I am not sure this is—”

  “You are not like Lord Yardley,” she whispered, interrupting him. As much as she had despaired of ever finding a man who could truly care for her, she knew in her very soul that this man had only her best wishes in his heart. “I know you are not.”

  He swallowed hard, his head dropping for just a moment. “No, I am not like Lord Yardley,” he replied, a little more firmly. “Polly, I cannot pretend that I do not care for you, but we cannot continue this.”

  Surprised, Polly stared at him, wondering what he meant. “Sebastian, I—”

  He groaned and dropped his head, letting his hands fall from her waist as he stepped away. Polly felt her entire being burn with heat, embarrassment creeping over her. Had he not felt the same as she?

  “I do not know what I am feeling,” she whispered, brokenly. “I thought … when I saw you return, it was as though my heart broke into song. You are the one my thoughts are filled with. Not Lord Yardley, not any longer. I know now that what I felt for Yardley was nothing more than infatuation, nothing more than a whirlwind of romance. There was nothing concrete, nothing substantial. I did not know him, and he did not know me. But, with you, that is not the case.”

  He looked up at her, agony in his expression. “No, it is not the case,” he agreed, closing his eyes for just a moment. “Polly, for so many years, I have been simply ‘Taylor’ to everyone who knows me, even my closest friends. The last person to call me Sebastian was…” He closed his eyes again and turned away, rifling one hand through his hair. “She did me a great injury. I swore I would not allow my heart to become so involved again and yet, much to my surprise, it has.”

  Polly let out a long breath, her butterflies slowly settling. So it was not that he did not have any affection for her but rather that something from his past was holding him back. “This was the story you were to tell me,” she said, slowly, hating that he was beginning to put such distance between them.

  “Yes,” he replied, his expression pained. “But, on top of which, I cannot help but wonder if you are only looking at me with such affection because I was the one to help you with Yardley.”

  She frowned, her heart slowly beginning to sink into her toes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that there may be nothing of substance to what you feel,” he said, bluntly. “It may be that you appreciate my support so much – which I will always willingly give to you – that you have confused that appreciation with something more. Perhaps when you return to London, those feelings will fade. You might find someone a little more suited.”

  “Suited?” Polly exclaimed, feeling a trifle angry. “Taylor, the friendship that has grown between us has been of short duration, ’tis true, but it is more tangible than anything I have ever felt before,” she stated, telling him exactly what was on her heart, as she was truly realizing it herself for the first time. “Why should I even begin to look for another when I know that what I feel for you runs deep?”

  “I am eight years your senior.”

  His quiet words tore at her heart. “You think I am a foolish child, then,” she replied, her voice breaking. “You believe my adoration of Lord Yardley proves that I have nothing more than ridiculous ideas of love and the like, is that it?”

  He did not answer her but shifted rather uncomfortably, his gaze drifting from place to place.

  “I am not foolish.”

  He looked at her then, seemingly hearing the pain in her words. “I do not think you foolish, Polly. I know that Yardley took advantage of you. I only question whether what you feel for me now will be of long duration. I do not want us to start something that will only lead to more heartache.”

  Polly tried to understand what he was saying, tried to appreciate the care he was taking over their blossoming intimacy but found, despite her efforts, that she was still quite angry with him.

  “I know my own heart,” she said, gathering her skirts and making her way toward him. “I know that it has been foolish once before, I know that I made a dreadful mistake in allowing myself to be caught up in all that Lord Yardley said and did. I can see how he flattered me, how he tried to woo me in order to gain my trust. But I vowed never to allow myself to be so influenced again – and then along you came.”

  Her voice softened as she stopped just in front of him, seeing the confusion in his eyes. “You came into my life and saved me from what would have been a disastrous situation,” she continued, her heart now thundering wildly as she stayed only inches away from him. “Our conversations have shown me the depths of your heart, while your kindness and understanding show me your character. You make me laugh, Taylor, even when I did not wish to. Your kisses do not make me want to pull away but rather leave me wanting more of you. My heart has longed for you in the time you have been away, even though it has only been a few days. I have found these days long and weary, the sun growing dim as I waited for your return. My thoughts have been centered on you, wondering when you might return. I know my heart, Sebastian,” she continued, hearing his swift intake of breath as she used his name once again. “Do not think that my mistakes nor my youth make me any less certain of what I feel.”

  She did not give him time to respond, did not wait for him to step back. Instead, giving in to what she felt, Polly stepped forward, placed her hands around his neck and, standing on tiptoe, pressed her lips to his.

  20

  Sebastian was thrown in to such a state of shock at her words and her lips that, for a moment, he was unable to move. Polly’s arms were around him, the length of her body pressed against his – and her lips soft and warm against his own.

  Something began to stir within him and, heeding the warning screaming into his mind, Sebastian stepped away.

  “Polly,” he whispered, his breathing ragged. “Polly, I can’t, I—”

  “Why not?”

  The agony in her expression was almost more than he could bear, creating an ache in his chest. He clenched his fists to shore up his defenses.

  “Don’t you care for me?”

  It was a question he had been asking himself for weeks. Dropping his head into his hands for a moment, he shook his head again and stepped back, aware of just how fast his heart was beating.

  “I know you are not like Lord Yardley,” she continued, lifting her chin and looking directly into his eyes even though her lips tremb
led just a little. “If you feel anything for me then, please, do not push me so far away.”

  Sebastian couldn’t speak, his eyes fixed on hers. He could not look away. The pain and hope in her eyes spoke volumes, the dusting of pink on her cheeks letting him know just how difficult this was for her.

  “Please, Sebastian, just tell me the truth,” she begged, stepping forward so that she drew close to him again. “I need to know that there is something more than just a friendship between us. Tell me that I have not made the same mistake again.”

  “No, of course you have not made a mistake,” Sebastian murmured, running his hand through the curls that framed her face, unable to keep away from her. He took her hand, feeling it tremble in his own. “Oh, but Polly, I am too much of an old man for you.”

  She laughed then, the relief in her expression evident. “I do not think so. Why, look at all of the marriages that take place between ladies and gentlemen with many more years between them than we have!”

  Sebastian dropped his gaze, his own heart filled with confusion and doubt. Her assurance that she cared for him had gone deep into his soul but yet, he was not sure that there was anything truly of substance. Besides, he had told himself that never again would he take a woman in his arms when it meant that his heart could be broken. He had learned his lesson the last time such a thing had occurred. He also did not want to be just as terrible as Yardley, who had taken full advantage of Polly’s affections.

  “Polly,” he said, slowly, now holding both of her hands in his. “I am touched, truly, by what you have expressed. I will not pretend that I feel nothing in return, for that would be a lie and I pride myself on honesty. But, I do not want to jeopardize our friendship nor your reputation, despite what I want.”

  The light faded from her eyes, quickly replaced by determination.