Lady Polly Part 37

'put up for the night at Famforth," Sir G.o.dfrey was saying, 'at the Rose and Crown. Not a bad hostelry, but a little overcrowded..."

Polly was still gazing after Lord Henry's retreating figure, but spun around at a faint noise from Hetty. The other girl had gone chalk white, her hands to her breast as though pierced by an arrow.

"Gaston! A chair for Miss Mark ham!" Lady Bel- ling ham, hearing Polly's exclamation of concern, had hurried forward to take control of the situation.

"Con- chita! My hart shorn! There now, my dear..." With infinite gentleness she helped Peter ease Hetty into the chair.

"Have no fear, you will feel better directly..."

Hetty was drooping like a cut flower. She was still alarmingly pale, but her eyelids fluttered. Peter, kneeling beside her, was the picture of concern.

"The heat..." Lady Belling ham was saying excusingly, although it was still early and a very fresh day, 'and the wedding preparations no doubt. You must take care not to overtax yourself, my dear! " "Yes, ma'am," Hetty said submissively, and Polly saw a tear slide from the corner of her eye and make a trail down her pale cheek. For a moment Polly had the horrible thought that Hetty might not wish to marry Peter and that that was what was making her so unhappy. Yet Hetty was gazing at Peter with the concentrated regard that was surely a sign of love rather than dislike, and was clutching his hand as though her life depended on it. And there had been nothing in their behaviour to suggest anything other than they were both pleased to be marrying so soon. Polly frowned. She had discussed Hetty's strange behaviour with Lucille, but neither of them could understand why Miss Mark ham, normally so ebullient, had become so tense and woebegone.

She was not ill. She should have been happier than ever before in her life.

It made no sense.

Hetty was struggling to get to her feet, a little colour coming back into her face.

"I am so sorry... I cannot imagine what is the matter."

She saw Lady Belling ham looking at her with thoughtful concern and looked as though she was about to burst into tears. She scrubbed viciously at her eyes.

"We had better start for home. Lady B.," Peter said hastily, a protective arm around his betrothed.

"It will be best for Hetty to rest. Shall we see you at the ball tomorrow?"

The atmosphere lightened as Sir G.o.dfrey added his pressing persuasions.

"Dear lady, of course you must be there! You will be the belle of the ball, putting all others in the shade!"

Lady Belling ham acceded graciously to his invitation and they went out to the carriage in a flurry of repeated good wishes and invitations.

Peter and Hetty sat very close together on the way home, Hetty's head against his shoulder, and Sir G.o.dfrey sat in his corner of the carriage with a ridiculously famous look on his face. It was clear that he was dwelling on the delights of renewing his acquaintance with Lady Belling ham.

Polly, despite the promise of encountering Lord Henry again the following day, began to feel decidedly left out. All the world, it seemed, was in love, but she was the only one who had no notion where it was leading.

Chapter Thirteen.

You are in magnificent looks tonight, Lady Polly.

" It was not Lord Henry March night but Tristan Dit ton who bent close to Polly's ear, his sharp gaze appraising her with familiarity, his foxy face wearing an unpleasant smile.

Polly stepped back sharply. For a man who had retreated ignominiously only the two nights before, Mr Dit ton seemed in very high spirits.

Indeed, he was positively effusive in his greetings, as though no matter of embarra.s.sment had ever pa.s.sed between them.

"Save me a dance for later, fair one," he purred, before moving on into the ballroom, leaving Polly to puzzle over his strange and unwelcome behaviour.

The ballroom was filling rapidly as the guests gathered for the Dowager Countess's impromptu ball. Sir G.o.dfrey, looking as pleased as a dog wagging its tail, was escorting Lady Belling ham. Polly suspected Lady Belling ham of deliberately playing to the gallery, for she was drawing a great deal of attention in a dress of rich ruby velvet and some staggering diamonds. The Far rants and Fitzgeralds were also out in force, but Polly's eye was drawn constantly to the door, awaiting the arrival of Lord Henry March night.

She knew, without the benefit of Mr Dit ton's compliments, that she was looking her best. She had brushed her dark hair until the chestnut lights in it had gleamed with rich colour and the curls tumbled becomingly about her face. Knowing that pastel colours, the favourite apparel of the debutante, could make her look sallow, Polly had chosen a dress of eau-de-nil. The style was appropriately modest, but the cut flattered her neat figure and the material whispered softly as she walked.

The orchestra struck up for the first dance and Peter swept Hetty on to the floor, opening the dancing since Nicholas had chosen to sit out with Lucille.

Hetty appeared to have recovered her spirits and was almost as vivacious as Polly remembered. Sir G.o.dfrey and Lady Belling ham followed them onto the floor with barely concealed eagerness. There was less formality than at the London routs and b.a.l.l.s, but the company was elegant nevertheless and, more importantly, was enjoying itself with gusto. Seeing Mr Dit ton approaching her purposefully, Polly caught the eye of Charles Far rant, who had also been watching the door covertly for the arrival of the March nights. Charles could take a hint, and stepped forward to claim Polly's hand before Tristan Dit ton could reach her.

"Mr Sea grave and Miss Mark ham make a very handsome couple," Polly heard Mrs Fitzgerald remark to her partner, further down the set.

"I am so glad that match is to be made soon..."

As Charles Far rant swung Polly round, she caught sight of Tristan Dit ton once more. He seemed to be ubiquitous. But this time Mr Dit ton's attention was not on Polly, for he too was watching Hetty Mark ham with a peculiar, brooding intensity. A sudden shiver ran down Polly's spine. There was such a malevolent look on Dit ton's face that it disturbed her.

A moment later, she forgot all about it. Lord Henry March night was ushering his mother and sister into the ballroom, apologising graciously to the Dowager Countess for their late arrival. The light from the chandeliers gleamed on his carefully dishevelled fair hair and she caught her breath at the stark elegance of his evening attire. Then Henry turned and their eyes met across the room. Polly felt her pulse flutter as he held her gaze.

The dance concluded and Charles, who had also seen the March nights arrive, escorted Polly to Lucille's side, and hovered, looking hopefully across the room at Lady Laura. Polly tried not to laugh.

Charles had the same eager look on his face as Sir G.o.dfrey, as he contemplated the object of his affections. She hoped that the d.u.c.h.ess would allow her vigilance to slip and give Charles and Laura a little time together.

"Come and sit by me, Charles," Lucille said, taking pity on him and clearly thinking along the same lines. "I shall call Lady Laura over in a little while, when the d.u.c.h.ess's attention is distracted!"

Polly danced the next with John Fitzgerald and Nicholas Sea grave persuaded a blushing Lady Laura to join him on the dance floor. The d.u.c.h.ess beamed her approval. Sir G.o.dfrey and Lady Belling ham were scandal ising the guests by dancing every dance together, more amorously entwined than any younger couple. Several people looked horrified at this display, but Polly rather suspected that Lady Belling ham was deliberately putting on a show. Miss Dit ton and Mr Bunion looked decidedly more gloomy as they circled the floor together.

"Do you return to London for the Little Season?" Polly asked Laura neutrally, when the dance ended and they found themselves together in the group around Lucille. She knew that the younger girl was feeling some constraint in her presence, no doubt arising from the fiasco at the Fair, and she was anxious to break the ice.

Laura shook her fair head.

"No, indeed, for Mama is making arrangements to send me away!" She bit her lip.

"Dear Lady Polly, I am so sorry for the way I have behaved towards you at Cold Hollow--' Polly put her hand on Laura's arm. It was hardly the place for heartfelt apologies, but Laura was certainly sincere. She was looking positively miserable.

"Say no more of it," she said decisively, with a warm smile to show that she bore no grudge. She raised her voice a little to attract Charles Far rant's attention.

"So you are to leave us. Lady Laura? I am so sorry! Where do you go?"

"Mama has decided that it would be good for me to visit my sister.

Lizzie Ellerbeck, in Northumberland," Laura said, glancing through her lashes at Charles Far rant.

"I wish that it were not so, but Mama is adamant that Lizzie requires company. She is increasing, you know, and no doubt Northumberland is a strange and lonely place to be all alone in Ellerbeck's medieval castle!"

"How Gothic!" Lucille commented, with a smile. "You must make the most of your time amongst us then. Lady Laura, and dance every dance!

Mr Far rant..."

Charles Far rant cleared his throat.

"Er, yes, indeed... Lady Laura... if you would grant me the honour..."

"An awkward suitor," Lucille said with a smile as she watched them go, 'but an honest one for all that! I do so hope that the d.u.c.h.ess will relent!

Laura could do much worse. " "Playing Cupid, Lady Sea grave?"