Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5

by St. Clair, Ellie

  Even if he would not speak the depths of his feelings to her, she could sense them through the tenderness of his kiss. How could she convince him that she felt the same? She wound her arms round his neck to pull him closer to her, to deepen the kiss. His strong arms came underneath her, and he lifted her onto his lap as he sat back on the chair. She leaned back against the chair’s arm, the soft upholstery cushioning her. Then she gripped the lapels of his jacket tightly in her fingers and slipped her hands underneath the material to rest them against his chest.

  “Sebastian,” she gasped, as he kissed the side of her neck, before returning his lips to hers. It felt so lovely she could hardly think, but as she began to sink deeper into his caresses, suddenly his attentions were gone, and she found herself utterly bereft.

  “Sebastian?” she repeated, this time his name a question on her lips. She opened her eyes, finding him sitting up, staring into the space of the room, running a hand through his hair.

  “I cannot seem to keep myself away from you,” he said with a sigh as he looked down at his hands.

  “Then don’t,” she said, pulling herself toward him. He wrapped an arm about her and kissed her on the forehead. He leaned against her for a moment, as if providing himself this one interlude in time, and then with one final chaste kiss on her lips, he whispered, “Goodnight,” and lifted her off of him, stood and placed her on the chair, and then made his way to the door.

  Polly sat in silence as she watched him go, her melancholy slowly beginning to burn into an ire simmering in her belly. What an idiot, she thought. Were men all like this?

  She tried not to acknowledge the searing disappointment in her chest, but it cut deeply all the same. She took her time as she meandered to her room, her fingers trailing along the banister where the staircase overlooked the hall. As she gazed into the depths below her, she closed her eyes. Whatever was she to do?

  * * *

  Polly sighed to herself as she brushed her fingertips over the delicate roses. Sebastian had not touched her since that night in the library, when he had kissed her senseless. It had been a few days since then and, while their conversations and easy manner had continued, there was now a great unspoken desire simmering between them. It made things rather strained at times, especially when she caught him watching her with such intensity in his expression. He would always look away of course, breaking the connection.

  How she hated it.

  But the man was quite resolute. He would not permit himself to give in to the feelings she knew he held for her, leaving her almost desperate to speak of what she felt in return. She wanted to give voice to it, wanted to share the puzzling state of her feelings in the hope that he would be able to help her make sense of it all.

  Lord Yardley was almost entirely gone from her memory. She did not care about him, not now. She was far away from London, far away from those who wished her wrong. Her mother had replied to her letter in a much more even tone, not even mentioning any rumors or gossip, which had led Polly to believe that there was nothing to concern herself with any longer. She would return home and, should there be an opportunity to come back to London next Season, then she would do so.

  But only if Lord Sebastian Taylor did not speak to her of what was in his heart first.

  Tipping her face to the sky, Polly closed her eyes and drank in the sunshine, allowing it to warm her skin. Out here, she felt free. There were no shackles holding her back, no concern over whether or not she might get freckles that would then have to be hidden somehow for whatever evening’s entertainment she went out to. She did not need to listen carefully to her mother about which gentlemen to avoid or which gentlemen to dance with, nor did she have to think about her manner, her conversation, nor her carriage. Sebastian had seen her at her very worst and, despite that, he had some affection for her. What point was there in considering any other gentlemen when she knew they could not match up?

  So he had been hurt in the past. So had she. She knew she had rashly protested to Violet that she would never love another, but her heart had other ideas.

  Biting her lip, Polly shook her head and continued on her stroll through the gardens, aware of the heat that rushed through her as she thought of Sebastian. She was desperate for him kiss her again, after the few stolen kisses he had always ended so abruptly. But it seemed that he had turned away from her, so certain that what she felt for him would shrivel and die once she returned to society.

  Could he not see that she had never met a gentleman like him? Did he not understand that it was only him that she now cared for? Whether she spent one season or three in London, she knew that Sebastian was the only one who would hold her heart. He had shown her what true care and affection was, shown her how it felt when one soul became twined with another. Was it possible that such a depth of feeling would truly go away simply because she might dance with another few gentlemen?

  “No,” she said aloud, determined in her own mind and her own spirit. “No, it is not possible.”

  “What is not possible?”

  Polly shrieked aloud, only to clamp a hand over her mouth as her sister appeared from behind a large shrub, mirth written all over her face.

  “For heaven’s sake, Violet!” Polly exclaimed, her hand on her heart. “I thought I was alone.”

  Violet laughed, linking arms with her sister. “You were, until I spotted you from the window and came out in search of you.”

  “For any particular reason?”

  There was a short pause. “You look troubled and, on top of which, there is a letter from Mama for you.”

  Polly frowned, glancing at her older sister and seeing the concern on her face. “I am all right, Violet.”

  “Lord Taylor is not.”

  Polly felt heat creep up her spine. “Violet, there is so much going on between us that I hardly know where to start.”

  “You care for Taylor, then?”

  Aware that she was powerless to hide her feelings from the sister she had always been so close with, Polly shrugged and looked away. “Oh Violet I … I had thought I had feelings for Lord Yardley, and I was so utterly wrong. But this is altogether different. Sebastian stirs something inside me, something I can hardly even put words to. Am I so obvious?”

  Violet laughed, pressing Polly’s arm. “I only know because I have felt such things myself, Polly. I recognize those emotions, that is all. I know the pain and the struggle that goes on in your heart when it is caught up with another.”

  A stone bench came into view and, sitting down on it, Polly looked up at the estate in front of them, wondering what Lord Taylor’s home was like. “You are happy here, Violet. I am glad for you, and for Greville. When I first came to this place, I was sure that I would never feel happiness again. I thought to block off my heart and keep it entirely to myself, never to give it to another. I called myself all kinds of fool, believing that I had been the one in the wrong. Sebastian has been the one to show me that I should not have thought of myself that way.”

  “You have had a great many conversations with him,” Violet murmured, looking up at the view in front of them. “I had hoped there was a growing affection between you.”

  Polly smiled softly. “Yes, there has been. I have been truly grateful for it – not that I did not appreciate speaking to you, Violet, but I have found solace with Sebastian.”

  “From what Greville says, it is because Taylor has been through something similar.”

  Nodding, Polly threw a smile over at her sister before returning her gaze to the house. “Indeed, although I will not go into it. I feel as though he has melted the ice around my heart, helped it to heal. If only he would let me in, allow me to do the same for him. He’s compassionate, honest, caring, gentle… Violet I think … I think I love him.”

  There was a short silence. Violet turned toward her, frowning just a little. “Polly, have you spoken to him of this? Does he know of how you feel?” She paused. “And, does he return your affections?” she asked, gently. “I
hope you are not tormented by the—”

  “Sebastian will not acknowledge what he feels,” Polly interrupted, wanting to reassure her sister that she was not suffering from a broken heart. “He thinks my current feelings fickle, that in time they might fade. Sadly, I am quite at a loss as to how to convince him otherwise.”

  Violet smiled and squeezed Polly’s arm. “My dear sister, I cannot help you with that, I’m afraid, but I do want you to know that when it came to Greville and me, these things took some time. If the feelings between you are true, if there is depth and thoughts of no one else, then that, in time, will come to fruition.”

  Polly shook her head, blowing out a long breath. “I am not the patient type, Violet.”

  “No, you have never been that,” Violet admitted, laughing softly. “I do not quite know just how you managed to wait until your time for joining the London Season came about!”

  “Neither do I,” Polly admitted, rather ruefully. “So, you think I should leave Sebastian for the time being? Allow him to see that my affection is true, that it will not dissipate once I return to London?”

  “I do,” Violet said, putting one hand on Polly’s. “And, perhaps, this will give you time to consider your own heart also. Make sure this is what you truly want, that your feelings are true. Taylor is being cautious, and I cannot help but admire that. This has been a difficult time for you thus far, has it not? I just hope it will not complicate things further.”

  Polly sighed, settling her shoulders as he got to her feet. “Thank you, Violet. I do hope that he will come round.”

  “I am sure it will all come right in the end,” Violet replied, soothingly. “You’ve always been a stubborn sort. Now, shall we return indoors? You have Mama’s letter to read.”

  Trying to inject even the smallest amount of enthusiasm into her voice, Polly gave her sister a half smile. “I suppose I must. Mama will be waiting for me to write back to her.”

  “No doubt she will,” Violet replied, tugging a reluctant Polly behind her. “Underneath it all, she is concerned for you, Polly. I just hope she will not unexpectedly appear at the door!”

  Polly laughed and fell into step with her sister, her heart a little lighter than before. “As do I,” she agreed, wholeheartedly, before walking back into the house.

  22

  Sebastian smiled to himself as he finished reading his letter. His plan was coming to fruition. All he had to do now was arrange a day and a time to confront Lord Yardley – as well as convince Polly to return to London with him.

  That was going to be the most difficult part. Aside from the fact that she would not, in all likelihood, want to return with him to see Lord Yardley again, it would be an end to their time together. For once the situation was cleared up, Polly would have not even the suggestion of a whisper following her, leaving her free to return to society just as she had done before and would be, no doubt, surrounded by a great many gentlemen. She would have her pick of suitors and he would, as he ought, fade into the background.

  He could not pretend that he did not care for Polly. What had initially been an attraction had grown steadily, from affection to something deeper that he did not want to admit even to himself. For once Polly returned to London, what she felt for him would slowly disappear, he was sure of it. It was simply that he was here, available, and had been her rescuer. They were not a good match. He did not care much for dances or for London society, whereas she appeared to delight in it. To have a quiet life in the country with him – would that really satisfy her? He did not think so. A gentleman of leisure, perhaps, might be a better fit for her.

  His felt himself grimace as he thought of her with another man. Was all that he supposed true? Or was he simply trying to find a way to convince himself that he could never give his heart to a lady again? Was the remembrance of Patricia’s betrayal to follow him for the rest of his life, keeping him from ever acting upon any feelings for another?

  He shook his head and refocused on the task at hand. He needed to convince Polly to return to London, and likely the only way to do so would be to tell her of his plans. She would be much more likely to help if she knew that in doing so she would save other young ladies from a man like Yardley.

  “Sebastian?”

  His name on her lips caused such a strong emotion to well up in him that he was forced to close his eyes for a moment.

  “Sebastian?”

  “I’m in here,” he called, turning around to see her enter the library, her eyes darting all over the room.

  Seeing her appear rather distraught, all thoughts over his own feelings flew from his mind and he hurried toward her, taking her cold hands in his.

  “Polly? Whatever is the matter?”

  She looked up at him, her cheeks pale. “I wanted to speak to you last night, but you did not come down for dinner.”

  He swallowed, a prickle of shame climbing up his spine. “Yes, I know. I had various letters to write.” The truth was, of course, that while he did have correspondence, he had also chosen to stay in his rooms, trying to sort out his own thoughts about Polly – to no avail, of course.

  “I had a letter from Mama,” she said, hoarsely. “Lord Yardley has spoken out about me.”

  A stone dropped into his stomach. “The bastard,” he muttered, before apologizing for his curse. “Come and sit down,” he murmured, leading her over to the chaise lounge. “Tell me, what has he done?”

  “Mama is distraught,” she whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks. “The shame brought to the family name.”

  “Lord Yardley will be exposed,” he promised at once, his hand tightening on hers. “I have a plan, Polly.”

  She did not appear to hear him. Her cheeks had paled, and her eyes sparkled with tears. “Yardley has stated that I was sent away from home in disgrace. He has said that he found me in a compromising situation with…” She looked away from him, her cheeks burning.

  “With me,” Sebastian replied, passing one hand over his eyes. “Bloody hell.”

  “I am so terribly sorry.”

  Stunned, he lifted his head and looked straight into her eyes, seeing the embarrassment there.

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said firmly, brushing the tears from her cheek. “This is nothing to do with you, Polly. This is Yardley’s doing, and I swear to you that he’ll be exposed to society as a liar and a rogue. None will touch him after that.”

  The hope in her expression made him want to gather her in his arms, and, in a moment of weakness, Sebastian gave in to his longing. Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close and she went easily, burying her head in his shoulder.

  “Can you trust me, Polly?” he whispered, brushing his lips against her forehead. “Can you believe that I will do as I have said?”

  She paused for a moment, her free hand reaching around to clasp his shoulder. “I will never doubt you, Sebastian.”

  “Will you trust me enough to return to London?”

  She froze in his arms, lifting her head sharply to look into his eyes.

  “I know it will be very difficult, but it is the only way,” he promised, aware of just how close she was to him. “I will be by your side, and you will stand proudly as the dirt is brushed from your family’s name.”

  Polly closed her eyes, her lips trembling. “I do not want to return to London.”

  “Then think on it,” he replied, softly, not wanting to press her. “But I must return at the beginning of next week. Remember, you are not the first young woman whose reputation has been ruined by Yardley or men like him. I had been looking into him already before he made you his latest victim. Compared to some of the others, you were rather lucky, I must say. Some found themselves utterly ruined, due to broken engagements or finding themselves with child.” He saw her eyes widen. “Anyway, the plan is in place, and, while I would ask you to be there, I will understand if you choose to remain here.”

  She did not say anything, but simply put her head back on hi
s shoulder as he held her. Her tears dampened his cheek and he provided her all the comfort she needed.

  “Sebastian,” she whispered, turning toward him just a little more. “Why are you doing all this for me?”

  He swallowed hard, his eyes closing as he tightened his arm around her. “I could never allow Yardley to get away with his roguish behavior, Polly. He does not deserve to continue as he is. Too many others are being hurt.”

  Pulling away from him just a little, she looked up into his face, her eyes searching his. “Is that all?”

  “Isn’t that enough of a reason?” he replied, not wanting to speak the truth for fear of where it would lead.

  She shook her head a little, her eyes clearing. “Tell me why, Sebastian.”

  He could not stop himself from lowering his head, his desire for her roaring into life. She was so close to him that the blood in his veins began to burn with an unquenchable fire, his breathing becoming ragged.

  She was ready for him, meeting his kiss with one of her own. He couldn’t tell which one of them parted their lips first, but he found his tongue brushing lightly against hers and a groan of desire escaped from him. His arms came about her, drawing her closer still as his mouth moved over hers, pouring into her the wanting that had been building for weeks. He needed so much more of her, but knew that it could not — should not be.

  He finally pulled back, pushing her away from him.

  “We really shouldn’t.”

  “We should,” she replied, with more fervor than he had ever expected. “Why have you not understood what it is I am saying? I do not care for anyone but you. I want no one but you. Whether you will say it or not, I know that you care for me, don’t you?”

  Sebastian shook his head, trying to think clearly but discovering he could not, not when she was drawing closer to him, her lips gently parted and eyes shining with such adoration that he could not look away.

  “I am not a child, Sebastian,” she whispered, looking up at him. “Do not treat me like one.”