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.
Her words had crumbled to dust, her promises blown away in the wind. Everything he had said and felt and pledged had been true, whereas her words had been nothing more than lies. Even now, that cut deeply. And yet, somehow, Lady Polly Harrington, though unaware of it, was finding a way into his heart, slowly mending the pain that he had filled it with for such a long time. He did not want to allow her there, did not want to let himself feel, but it was as though his heart had already claimed her as his own.
“You are being quite foolish,” he muttered to himself, trying to stop himself from thinking of Polly, trying to prevent his mind from tumbling with thoughts of her. He was older than her by eight years, and besides that, too staid for the likes of her.
She was brightness and light, twirling through life with all the exuberance of youth. If anyone was to be her husband, it would be a man who enjoyed the sights and sounds of London just as she did. He would not do. Coming to London was a trial, being in society nothing more than an endurance. What he wanted, more than anything, was simply to return home and enjoy his quiet country existence. What kind of life was that for a young lady such as Polly?
Besides that, she seemed to want nothing to do with him, particularly after his words against Lord Yardley.
He shook his head to himself, turning up his collar against the rain. It did not matter what he thought of Lady Polly, for she did not so much as notice him. The only thing he could do was to continue to look out for her, as a friend of her sister’s. At the very least, Lord Yardley did not know his name and, hopefully, in his befuddled state, would not be able to recognize Sebastian should they meet again.
Other than that, he had failed entirely.
8
Polly found herself humming with delight as her maid, Lucy, came in to lay out her clothing for the evening’s festivities. It was to be a masquerade, which she found altogether thrilling.
“Oh Lucy, tonight should be such fun,” she said, as she held her mask up to her face. It went round her eyes, tying at the back of her head. Lucy promised she could integrate the ties into her hair style for the evening. The aquamarine and purple of the mask matched the ostrich plume that rose from it, and Polly thought she looked rather daring in it.
“Is it not so exciting, to be able to hide one’s true identity?” she asked, and Lucy gave her a smile. She had been with the family for years, her mother having served Marie. Polly and Lucy had practically grown up together, although Lucy, no doubt instructed by her mother, always ensured their friendship never became too close to cross any boundaries.
“I do not think that mask will fool anyone, Lady Polly,” Lucy said with a laugh. “Why, the blonde of your hair will be obvious to anyone who knows you, and just because your eyes are covered does not mean the rest of your face isn’t visible.”
Polly herself chuckled. “I suppose the point of masquerades are to feel as though you are hiding, to be given the possibility of acting not as you ought to but as you want to.”
“I suppose,” said Lucy with a bit of a shrug. “Though come the next day, everyone will know one another’s business anyway.”
“This is true,” said Polly, as she sat on the stool before t
he mirror and rested her chin on her fist. She met Lucy’s brown eyes in the mirror. “I have told Lord Yardley what I will be wearing, anyway,” she said with a bit of a whisper, and Lucy looked at her in surprise.
“Is he courting you now, then?” she asked.
“Officially, not yet,” Polly responded, “Although he said he will speak to Papa the moment he arrives in London, which should be rather soon as he has business to attend to. Oh, Lucy, Lord Yardley is such a handsome man, and so utterly charming. Why, even Mama is slowly beginning to like him!”
“She has had reason not to?” Lucy asked, a bit of concern touching her face.
“Oh, there have been some rumors of Lord Yardley’s past,” Polly said, disregarding them with a wave of her hand. “But that is all they are — idle gossip among those who have nothing better to do but speak poorly of others. Lord Yardley may have had an indiscretion or two in the past, ’tis true, but that doesn’t mean one cannot change his ways, does it?”
“I suppose not,” said Lucy, as she took up Polly’s comb and let down the tangle of blonde curls. “Although you best be careful, my lady.”
“Of course, Lucy,” Polly responded, though her thoughts had moved on to the evening at hand. “I always am.”
* * *
Sebastian was somewhat nervous as he knocked on the door of the Duke of Ware’s London townhouse. He knew it was rather odd to show up unannounced in the middle of the day, but he felt as if he had run out of options. He had tried confronting Yardley, had attempted to speak to Polly, and had also worked with his informants to try to determine when Yardley would try to win his bloody bet.
Unfortunately, Yardley was keeping his plans closely guarded. How callous could some men be? Yardley was willing to ruin a girl’s entire life simply for some coin and to further his own daring reputation.
The door was opened by a butler, who showed him into a decidedly female sitting room. The Duchess of Ware awaited him wearing a polite smile, but Sebastian knew she would have been preparing for the masquerade and was likely somewhat put out by the timing of his visit.
“Lord Taylor,” she said as he gave her a slight bow. “How lovely to see you. Please, sit,” she bade him, gesturing toward a seat on the sofa opposite her, but he noted she did not call for tea. Clearly, she expected this visit to be short, though he could see the curiosity in her gaze. Polly did not look much like the Duchess. She must take after her father’s side, Sebastian thought. He was pulled out of his reveries when the Duchess cleared her throat.
“Thank you for seeing me, Your Grace,” he began. “I know it is rather odd for me to call on you, particularly at this time of day and without your husband in residence.”
She said nothing, although she did not disagree with him.
“We have spoken before about Lord Yardley, who has continued to bestow his affections upon Lady Polly,” he said, looking at her to gauge her reaction. The woman was well practiced, however, and showed no reaction to his words.
“Yes,” she replied. “He has. And I do appreciate your thoughts on the gentleman, Lord Taylor, however I am beginning to believe that he may have come round and changed his ways.”
“I understand,” he said slowly, trying to determine the best way forward. “However, I have come upon information that leads me to believe that Lord Yardley would like to … add Polly to his list of conquests, if you will.”
“Conquests?”
Sebastian's eye twitched. He was not used to discussing such matters with a lady, particularly one like the Duchess of Ware, with her quick mind and practiced manner.
“Lord Yardley has made a bet with his friends that he can secure Polly’s affections,” he said.
“Oh, dear,” said the Duchess, as she sat quietly for a moment. “How can you be certain?”
“I overheard him discussing the matter.”
“I see. And what does he mean to do with those affections?”
“Do?”
“Yes. Is that not the point of courting? If he wins her affections, will he not then continue to court her, to marry her?”
“Well, I … I suppose that is the usual way of things,” Sebastian stammered. He knew very well that Yardley had no intention of doing such a thing, but he also had no proof of the situation, nor Yardley’s thoughts. “I do not believe that is his objective, however.”
The Duchess stood and began to walk about the room as she addressed him.
“I must admit, Lord Taylor, that I would have thought the same myself at one time, having heard of the man’s reputation,” she said. “However, in the past few weeks, I have come to know Lord Yardley rather well. He seems completely smitten with Polly, and his intentions do seem honorable.”
She stopped in front of him.
“I appreciate you coming here, Lord Taylor, I do. I know you are well acquainted with my son-in-law, and are simply looking out for the family. However, I have also noted your apparent interest in my daughter. I must ask you, Lord Taylor, have you come out of concern for Polly, or are you trying to rid yourself of a rival?”
Sebastian looked at her, aghast. He had never considered this to be an outcome of his visit. He knew there had been the chance she wouldn’t believe him, but not because she thought him interested in Polly himself.
“Not at all, Your Grace,” he said when he found himself finally able to reply. “That is, your daughter is very lovely and any gentleman would be fortunate to have her as a wife, but my intentions for warning you are noble. I simply want to ensure that the man does not ruin another young woman, your daughter in particular. Many discreet complaints have been brought against him by fathers of other ladies. They have simply not made it widely known, as to do so may further ruin their daughters.”
The Duchess frowned, and Sebastian could see the confusion etched on her face, until finally she forced a smile onto it.
“I do thank you for your concerns, Lord Taylor,” she said. “I will take them into consideration and provide Polly with the proper warning.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Sebastian said, as he rose with the Duchess, realizing there was no more he could say. “I do appreciate you taking my call.”
With that, he made his way out the door of the drawing room and was down the stairs when he heard a noise from above.
“Lord Taylor?” He heard his name once again, and he looked up to see a beautiful, curious face staring down at him. Half of Lady Polly’s hair was piled on top of her head, the rest spilled around her shoulders. Clearly, it was not finished, but he loved the look of it as loose and carefree as she was.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, a questioning look on her face as she slowly descended the staircase until coming to a stop on the second bottom step so that their faces were level.
“I had a matter to speak with your mother about.”
“My mother?” Her nose scrunched up in perplexity. “That is rather odd.”
“That may be,” he said. “But it is the truth.”
He could have told her the reason he was here, but he knew to do so again would only cause her to put more defenses up against his words. He had tried speaking to her, but she was looking through the lens of a woman who thought herself to be in love, and that was something he could not change.
“I believe I shall be seeing you tonight at the Duke of Stowe’s masquerade,” he said, donning his hat once more.
“Ah … yes,” she responded. “Though you will hardly know who I am, now will you?”
“Ah, Lady Polly,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “You do not know me well at all. I love a good mystery.”
* * *
“Mama!” Polly hurried down the hall to her mother’s chamber. She was rather confused by Lord Taylor’s visit and his words to her, not to mention the thrill she had felt upon seeing him. What was that about? Was she not to have such feelings only for Lord Yardley?
“Oh Mama, you look lovely,” Polly said, coming to a stop at the door of her mother’s rooms and a
dmiring the beautiful blue silk that hugged her figure where it best suited her.
“Thank you, darling,” her mother replied, then bade her to enter.
“Mama, whatever was Lord Taylor doing here? And why did he want to speak with you?”
“Can a gentleman not call in the middle of the day wanting to speak to your mother?
“He can, but I will find it rather strange.”
Marie laughed then turned to face her. “It was nothing. Simply a message for me to try to provide to your brother-in-law as Lord Taylor is having a hard time in reaching him.”
“How can that be?” Polly asked. “I received a note from Violet only yesterday.” She paused a beat, realizing what Lord Taylor’s true purpose must have been. “He was here about Yardley, wasn’t he? Oh, I wish he would just leave it alone!”
“Well, perhaps he does have a bit of a point,” said Marie. “You must be careful with Lord Yardley, Polly. I know he is rather dashing, and he does come from a good family, but still, oft’times when there are rumors there is some truth to them.”
“He has admitted as such, Mama, but do you not believe a man can change, especially when he meets a woman he truly cares for?” Polly asked.
Marie raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you are right, Polly,” she said, though somewhat reluctantly. “A man can change.”
She turned back to the mirror to view the progress her maid was making with her hair. Polly knew she was attempting to cleverly hide the few strands of gray that were beginning to course through her dark locks. As Marie looked at them worriedly, Polly came up behind her.
Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 45