Lady Polly. Nicola Cornick
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a lady may and may not do, or hear, or say! It puts me out of all patience!”
The phaeton stopped and Lord Henry jumped lightly down, holding out a hand to help Polly descend. He did not allow their bodies to touch as he swung her to the ground, nor did he hold on to her hand for longer than was strictly necessary. Polly found herself disappointed. For some reason the drive had ended on an unsatisfactory note. Polly was inclined to blame Lady Bolt’s interruption, although honesty prompted her that this was not really true. It seemed that she was dissatisfied when Lord Henry behaved properly and nervous when he did not. Flirtation was clearly not a game she could play with anywhere near Lord Henry’s aplomb.
The flower cart arrived early in Brook Street the following day, bringing a beautiful posy of pale pink roses for Polly and a card from Lord Henry saying that he had been called unexpectedly from Town, but hoped to see her again shortly. Polly did not even attempt to hide her pleasure in the gift, merely burying her face in the soft fragrant petals when Jessie made pointed comments about fine gentlemen and pretty gestures.
The days of Lord Henry’s absence crept by. There were only a few weeks of the Season left to run and the weather had turned very hot. The Dowager Countess became quite peevish when her ankles swelled up in the heat. She declined to accompany Polly and the Dacres on a sightseeing trip to St Paul’s Cathedral and when her daughter returned enervated and exhausted, told her that she had known the weather had been too inclement for a trip out. She fretted over Peter’s absence and when he did call, upbraided him for his foolishness in still running after Susanna Bolt. The servants all became very bad-tempered as they went about their work, and the house in Brook Street became a somewhat uncomfortable place to live.
“Everyone is so cross at the moment,” Polly sighed to Lucille, after Jessie had grumbled ceaselessly over her decision to change her chosen dress for a soirée one night. “Have you noticed how the heat makes people quicker-tempered? It’s very strange. Thank goodness there is to be no dancing tonight! I feel sure we should all melt into a puddle!”
Lucille fanned herself vigorously. “I hear that there were riots in The Strand last night,” she said, frowning. “Some windows were smashed and shops looted. I am sure that this weather can only add to people’s grievances. I shall ask Nicholas to give all the servants a day off on Saturday, and perhaps we may all go out of Town to somewhere cooler. Hampstead Wells, perhaps? A walk on the Heath might be quite refreshing.”
Even the Dowager Countess agreed to the proposed trip, feeling that the village air would be less noxious than that in London. The day was sunny but not too hot and they spent a most enjoyable few hours strolling on the Heath, playing bowls, and taking the waters at the spa. Polly declared the water so unpleasant that she needed a cup of tea to wash away the taste, so they retired to one of the honeysuckle-covered tea arbours for further refreshment.
“Oh, do let us stay a little longer,” Lucille urged, catching sight of a sign which promised a concert in the pump-room that evening, followed by fireworks. “There are plenty more of the gardens and grottoes to explore and it would be such fun to stay for the evening’s entertainments!”
The light was fading when the concert finished and they came out on to the Heath for the firework display. It was busy and many of the benches on the edge of the hill were already full.
“Heavens, what a crush!” The Dowager Countess exclaimed. “I had no idea that the whole of Town would have come out for this! Let us walk a little way along and see if we can find any seats!”
Polly was dawdling along behind the others, pulling her velvet cloak closer, for the evening was cool now that the sun had gone. A florid gentleman and large lady, amorously entwined, bumped into her and almost sent her flying without noticing. Polly stumbled. The first of the rockets soared into the sky above her and scattered a trail of bright stars. Suddenly it was very dark and she could not see the others at all. The crowd pressed about her; ladies, gentlemen, servants, tradesmen, cits and people of quite another sort.
A voice said: “All alone, lady? Let me take care of you!” He was young and attired as a gentleman, but Polly knew him to be no such thing. He was also drunk. And as she looked around wildly for her family, he took her arm.
“Your help will not be necessary, sir,” a voice said smoothly, from behind her. “The lady is with me, but I am grateful to you for your consideration.”
Polly recognised the voice even before she swung around to see Lord Henry Marchnight standing so protectively close to her. Something in his demeanour also communicated itself to the man who had accosted her, for he mumbled something about meaning no harm, and stumbled away. Lord Henry watched him go with a slight smile then turned his attention back to Polly.
“Tell me, Lady Polly,” he said conversationally, steering her out of the crowd to the edge of the path, “is this part of your claim for independence, to wander alone on Hampstead Heath in the dark? It seems rather foolhardy!”
“Don’t be absurd!” Polly snapped. Reaction was setting in now and she was horrified at what had almost happened to her. “I have become separated from my party, that is all! We were looking for seats for the fireworks—” Another rocket soared overhead as though to illustrate her point.
“Well, they could be anywhere now,” Lord Henry said resignedly, looking at the crowds. “It will be best for me to escort you back to your carriage, I think. They should have no trouble in finding you there. Is Seagrave here with you?”
Polly nodded.
“Thank God. He at least will have the sense to keep the others calm and search for you in a sensible fashion! Now, if we go down this path it should take us to the Well Walk. Did you leave your carriage there?”
Polly nodded unhappily. She knew that the Dowager Countess would be beside herself with worry and could not but regret spoiling the end of such a lovely day.
“We were having such a nice time,” she said regretfully. “I am sorry that it has had to end this way.”
It was very dark down the steep little passage that led to the street where the carriages were waiting. The scent of honeysuckle still hung in the air and the stars arched above them. Polly, trying to find her way in the dark, suddenly remembered that she had not even thanked Lord Henry for rescuing her.
“I am sorry,” she said in a small voice, “I should have thanked you. Your arrival was most timely, my lord. I hope that I have not taken you away from your friends?”
“I am here alone,” Lord Henry said, sounding preoccupied. “It is comforting to think that you feel safer with me than with that ruffian!”
This was an aspect of the situation that had not occurred to Polly at all. She stopped in an arched doorway. It was not possible to see Lord Henry’s face in the pale light. “Oh, I never even thought—” she said, uncertainly.
“Perhaps you should have done.” Lord Henry sounded grim. “You were flatteringly quick to entrust yourself to me, but my reputation is scarce such that a young lady should consider taking a walk in the dark with me!”
“Well!” Polly had had time to become indignant. “I think it most unfair of you to ring a peal over me for trusting you, sir! I had little choice but to consider you the lesser of two evils!”
She heard Lord Henry laugh at that. “Better the devil you know?” His shoulder brushed a spray of honeysuckle and released fresh scent into the air. He was very close and Polly suddenly became intensely aware of his physical presence. Her throat felt constricted.
“Besides…” she was clutching at straws now “…on the last occasion that we met, sir, you behaved with perfect propriety! It led me to believe that what I had heard of you was grossly exaggerated—”
She had taken a cautious step forward as she spoke, missed her footing on a step, and felt Lord Henry’s arms go around her to steady her.
“You misjudged me,” Lord Henry said with satisfaction,