He knew that she was referring to the difference in their ages, aware of what he had said in the past. But now, as he took her in, that did not seem to matter any longer.
“Tell me that you care for me,” she whispered, putting her arms around his neck. “Tell me the truth, Sebastian.”
“I was jealous,” he replied, the words falling from his lips, unbidden. “In London, when you thought you cared for Yardley. I made excuses as to why I followed you, to keep you from him. I told myself it was because of the concerns the constabulary had. I thought perhaps it was because I felt a need to look out for you on behalf of your family. I even simply thought it was because it was the right thing to do. But that was not it at all. It was simply that I did not want you to see any other gentleman but me. I told myself I was being foolish, that I shouldn’t be thinking of you that way, but I could not help it. When I discovered what Yardley was doing, I had to stop him from taking advantage of you. I never hoped that, in doing so, you would think of me in any way other than as a friend, I swear it.”
The smile spread across her face, her hands tightening around his neck just a little, and Sebastian found himself wrapping his arms around her waist until she was pressed tight against him.
“So, you do have affection for me?” she whispered, her mouth inches from his.
“I do,” he confessed, hardly able to get the words out, such was the effect of her closeness. “But I want you to be free to make your own choice about which gentleman is best for you. I may not be him.”
She did not allow him to speak any further, reaching up to kiss him again. This time, Sebastian gave in to his feelings, angling his head to deepen the kiss and swallow the gasp of astonishment that broke from her lips.
Thrills of gratification raced up and down his spine, his hands gently sweeping over the curve of her hips. He did not want to do as Yardley had done and take advantage of the lady, but the desire that was racing through him was hard to contain.
Then, much to his astonishment, her hands dropped from his neck and pressed lightly against his chest, before slowly unbuttoning his waistcoat.
“Polly,” he breathed, lifting his face from hers. “Polly, what are you doing?”
Her face infused with heat, but she did not stop. “I just want to touch you,” she replied, clearly rather embarrassed yet determined. “I have to touch you.”
Sebastian swallowed hard, jerking slightly when her hand slipped in through his shirt to rest against his bare skin. He could hardly breathe, the urge to touch her in much the same way springing into his mind.
He couldn’t help but run his hands down from her shoulders over the curve of her breasts, feeling her shiver as he did so.
“I – I’m sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes and dropping his hands. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She looked up at him, her hands slowly pushing his shirt aside. “You did not hurt me,” she murmured, her eyes holding a heat he had never seen before. “It – it felt good, Sebastian. I’ve never felt anything like this.”
With a low groan, he leaned down and kissed her again before moving his mouth to her cheek, trailing kisses down the soft skin of the side of her neck. She was breathing quickly now, her hands frozen in place as his mouth reached the neckline of her dress.
His hands were already there, drawn to her without being invited, cupping the soft mounds through her dress. Much to his astonishment, she threw her head back, as though offering herself entirely.
He could not stop himself. Unwilling to expose her, no matter how much he desired it, Sebastian trailed kisses all along the curve of her breasts, hearing her gasp with pleasure. He wanted more, wanted her desperately, but he knew he should not take what was not his.
“Polly,” he breathed, lifting his head to look down at her. “You’re driving me mad.”
She shook her head, pulling him against her a little more tightly. “Then take me.”
Sebastian shook his head, biting back the groan of frustration. “No, I will not. You don’t know what it is you want, Polly, but I do. I will not take something from you that should only be taken by your husband.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes dreamy. “Then become my husband.”
Time stood still. He could not quite believe what she had said as he stared down at her. His entire body was tense, filled with heat and fire and passion, desperate to make Polly his own, but his mind screamed at him that he could not.
“Polly,” he whispered, slowly beginning to button up his shirt. “This is not a decision to be made in the heat of passion.”
She stepped back from him then, her hands sliding down from around his neck. “You do not want me, then?”
“No, that is not what I meant at all,” he exclaimed, feeling as though he had, somehow, put a gulf between them. “I mean that, at such times, it is hard for us to know what we truly want.”
“I know what I want,” Polly exclaimed, her cheeks bright with color. “I want you, Sebastian. I know that you, at the very least, care for me too. I promise I will do all I can to make you happy, even if you will never give me your love. Why are you being such a bloody fool?”
Sebastian reached for her, but she pushed him away, shaking her head. Her eyes filled with tears and, and even though he called out to her, she wouldn’t listen. Apparently his rejection had been too severe. Without another word, she ran from the room, leaving him standing entirely alone.
23
Polly was angry as she stormed around her room, ripping clothing out of her wardrobe and throwing it onto the bed for Lucy to help her pack. She did somewhat regret her reaction to Sebastian’s dismissal. It had only proven to him the childishness he had already indirectly accused her of. It had been foolish to hurry out of the room away from him, especially when there had been so much more to say. When he had taken her in his arms, when he had seared her skin with his touch, what she had felt growing within her had both terrified and excited her.
She yearned for more of Sebastian — of his thoughts, his words, his touch, his love – and yet, he would not give it to her.
Deep inside, on reflection, she realized that she ought to appreciate that he had been so careful with her, that he had not given in to the passion she had seen growing in his eyes. Instead, he had wanted to keep her safe, had wanted to treat her honorably and with the respect she deserved.
How strange it was to be so desperate to throw such kindness and loyalty to the wind, to be so frantic for more of him so as to push it all to one side. Now she knew the difference in what she felt for him and had for Lord Yardley. For she had pushed away a passionate kiss from the rotter, while with Sebastian she would have given him anything he wanted.
Her suggestion that they marry had not been one made in haste, for she could think of no better solution to her current situation than that. It would mean that she would not have to return to London, although it might confirm what had been suggested about her and Sebastian by Lord Yardley. That, at least, gave her pause. She did not want to bring any kind of disgrace to the family name. Her mother’s letter had been frantic with worry, devastated that the one man they had trusted to care for Polly was, in fact, the man who had treated her ill. Her mother had mentioned that Polly’s father had dismissed the rumors at once, which Polly had been glad to hear, and she had responded almost immediately. Polly had made sure to let her mother know that Lord Taylor had been nothing but respectable, promising her that all was well and that she had not been ruined in the least.
And, right at the bottom, she had told her mother that she would be returning to London by the beginning of next week, alongside Lord Taylor.
Only a moment ago, she had rung for the butler and handed him the letter. The moment he left with her correspondence, she began to regret writing of her return, for now she had no choice. She had considered whether she ought to chase after the butler and retrieve it.
“No, I will not,” she murmured to herself, lifting her chin and watching the stea
m from the teapot rise into the air. “I will trust Sebastian and go to London. Lord Yardley must see that I am not to be intimidated.”
“Speaking to yourself again?”
Violet’s head peeked around the door of the drawing room and, seeing Polly’s surprised expression, she laughed and came into the room.
“Are you quite all right, sister? I saw that you had given a letter to the butler.”
Polly nodded, her shoulders set. “Yes, I have. I have written to Mama to inform her that I will be returning to London with Sebastian at the beginning of next week.”
The smile slid from Violet’s face. “Oh?”
“Sebastian says he has a plan,” Polly replied, with a slight shrug. “And, given that I cannot hide here any longer, I have decided that I must trust him.”
“But to go into the fray with the man who has been accused of ruining you is quite something,” Violet exclaimed, just as the door opened behind her. “What is it that Taylor intends to do?”
“What is this?” Greville asked, coming into the room and sitting down by his wife, reaching to ring the bell for another tea tray. “What has Taylor done now?”
“Nothing,” Polly replied, with a small smile, only she knowing the absolute truth to her words. He had done nothing at all. “He intends to take me back to London next week, and I have agreed to go. I wrote to my mother only just now to inform her of my return.”
Greville nodded slowly, his expression grave. “Going to meet the rumors head-on, are you? Good for you. I hate the gossip mongers, it must be said. What is it Taylor intends to do about the rumors? After all, they now encompass you both.”
Polly opened her mouth only to snap it closed, shaking her head. “I am not quite sure,” she replied truthfully. “He has asked me to trust him, and so I will.”
“Something I am very grateful for,” came Sebastian’s reply as he entered the room just behind the maid carrying another tea tray. He gave Polly a long, searching look. “You have decided to come with me, then?”
Polly found that she could not meet his gaze, aware that they had not spoken since their encounter only yesterday. “I think I must,” she replied, not sure where to look. “I have realized that what you said was reasonable, Sebastian. Remaining here would mean that gossip and rumor would be spread about me all through London, not to mention blackening your own name in the process.”
“Not that I care much about that,” Sebastian replied, gently. “I have always intended to return to my country seat regardless of what occurs in London.”
The ache in her heart grew as she thought of being in London – or anywhere – without him. “Regardless, I must think of what would be best for everyone, and that even includes my own mother and father. My father may be a duke, but to have such rumors attached to him is more than I could bear. I will not allow Lord Yardley to bring shame to my family simply because he did not win his ridiculous bet. And I will not allow Yardley to ruin another. ” Fire ignited in her belly as she lifted her chin, looking directly into Sebastian’s eyes. “I will come back to London with you, Sebastian. Whatever it is you have planned, I will go along with it.”
“I am heartily glad to hear it,” he replied, coming to sit down opposite her. “And I must thank you for putting your trust in me, Polly. I swear I will not let you down.”
“I should have trusted what you told me weeks ago,” she said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
The silence lengthened as they stared at one another, until finally Lord Greville cleared his throat, looking over at Violet. “We shall come with you both, of course.”
Polly nodded, trying to smile as she attempted to push away the anxiety she felt about returning to London. “That is not necessary.”
“I insist. I don’t think Violet could stand being here, not knowing what was occurring in London.”
“He is quite right,” Violet added. “I would much prefer to be there for you, Polly, and London isn’t that far.”
“Thank you, Greville, Violet,” Polly responded. “I am sure Mama especially will appreciate your presence and support. She has always trusted you, Violet.”
Violet laughed, her eyes twinkling. “I suppose she will, though she and I have never exactly seen things in the same light, as I was never one to accede to her wishes. I suppose she realized, in the end, that whatever I thought was best, I would do it regardless. In a way, she had very little choice but to trust me.”
“I am sure she will be delighted to see you again,” Polly smiled, as Violet got up to pour tea for them all. “So, when do we leave?”
“In three days’ time,” Sebastian replied, with a forced smile. “All should be in order by then. Have no fear, Polly. Yardley will not be allowed to stand much longer.”
* * *
Unfortunately for Polly, Sebastian’s assurances did not allow her to get much sleep. She tossed and turned, her eyes refusing to remain closed as she pondered what was to happen in her future.
She would be glad to have her name brought out of disrepute of course, but the thought of returning to London and to society at large brought her no pleasure. She did not want to go to balls and be courted by various gentlemen, for she knew that none of them would stand up to Sebastian. She hated that he would not accept that from her, that he thought she might find another in place of him.
Sitting upright, Polly was suddenly caught with the thought of what would happen were he not to stay or return to London. She would not be able to prove to him the truth of her feelings. She could not exactly go to visit him alone, which meant she would have to wait for him to either return to London the following year or hope that he might visit her at her father’s country estate. But what if he did not?
Shaking her head, Polly struggled to think of a way forward, a deep agonizing pain aching in her gut at the thought of not seeing Sebastian again. She had to think of a way to get him to trust her, to believe that what she felt was true.
“I love him,” she murmured to herself, swinging her legs out of bed and going in search of her wrapper. “Why will he not see it?”
Lighting a candle or two, she sat by the fireplace, appreciating the warm coals in the grate. Tormented by thoughts of Sebastian leaving her forever, she bit her lip in frustration. She might only have one night, but she had to convince him that there would never be another for her.
Violet had told her to wait until they got to London to persuade him of how she felt. She might only have one night, but she would do it. He had to accept that there was no other gentleman for her. She would make sure of it.
24
“Are you ready?”
Sebastian tried to put on an encouraging expression as Polly drew in a deep breath, one hand pressed against her midsection.
“Yes, I think so,” she murmured, looking up at the manor house in front of them through the dark of night. “Sebastian, what have you planned?”
He smiled, wishing he could hold her close. “Lord Yardley will be revealed for the scoundrel he is,” he replied, as the Duke and Duchess came to stand beside them. “All will be well, I assure you.”
The Duke cleared his throat, reaching to take Polly’s arm. “Lord Taylor seems to know what he is doing,” he said, gruffly. “Come now. We do not want to keep Lady Whitethorn waiting.”
Sebastian smiled as the family walked in ahead of him, with Greville and Violet following the Duke, the Duchess, and Polly. He remained behind, aware that to walk in together would start a great many more whispers.
He stood as he watched her climb the steps, the smooth satin of her pale blue dress fluttering around her, with her blonde curls intricately pinned up. She held her head high despite all that was being whispered about her, and he was ever so proud of her. His gaze caught on her, his heart tripped, and he realized that the affection he had for her was so much more than that. It was admiration, yes, but it was … it was love. Bloody hell, he loved her. He had vowed never to give his heart to another, and yet she had taken it wi
th her light and laughter, the goodness inside her that spilled out to everyone around her.
A jostle from behind knocked him forward a step, and he realized he had been rooted on the spot as the thoughts jumbled round his mind. He shook his head and began to mount the stairs himself. Just get through this evening, he told himself. Do this one thing for her.
They had arrived in London earlier that day and, within the hour, Polly had explained all that had occurred between herself and Lord Yardley to her parents. Sebastian had appreciated that she had asked him to remain in the room as she spoke, glad that she was so willing to show her parents that she trusted him. The Duke had, of course, been furious and determined to call Yardley out at once, and the Duchess had dissolved into tears, calling herself a failure for not better protecting her daughter.
Sebastian had been able to address both of their concerns, coming to stand next to Polly and assuring the Duke that Yardley would publicly be shown to be a scoundrel that very evening, at Lady Whitethorn’s ball. The Duke had pressed him for more details, but Sebastian, knowing that there was too much to explain, had simply asked him to remain at Polly’s side and to come forward when the time arrived. He was grateful for the Duke’s trust in him. The man had even asked him to stay at their London manor for the night, as it meant he would not have to re-open his own home but could return to the countryside in the morning.
His work had gone well. Those he had relied on to aid him had done more than their fair share, helping him to find his way forward to bring this terrible situation to a close.
At the same time, Sebastian felt his heart sink with disappointment, knowing that he would return home once things had been brought to an end. There would be no more use for him here. This would be the conclusion of his current case as well as his personal attachment and promise to the Harrington family.
Polly would remain with her parents in London, and he would go back to his estate to continue his life as usual. She would have a wonderful Season, albeit shorter than she had initially planned, and, in time, he would hear of her engagement, if not her marriage. He knew this love he had for her would never diminish, but what she felt for him might, in time, fade away. He was rather old, rather staid, for such a young, bright thing as she. There would be some suffering and pain for them both, but only for a short time. She would find herself caught up in the attentions of many, many gentlemen, he was sure.
Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 55