Lady Polly Part 8

The play that night was the farce The Devil to Pay, and the company was a merry one. Nicholas and Lucille Sea grave, the Dowager Countess and Polly, made up a party with Sir G.o.dfrey Or bison and his cousins the Da cres. There was a vast number of their acquaintance at Drury Lane that night and the Dowager Countess spent an entertaining time leaning over the side of their box and identifying members of the fashionable crowd.

When she saw Lucille's twin sister Susanna Bolt on the arm of a distinguished- looking gentleman of military bearing, she dug Lady Dacre in the ribs.

"Do look, Marianne! There is the Duke of Gars ton making a fool of himself over the Cyprian! Only see how she preens and pouts! Lord, what is it about these worthy gentlemen that makes them such easy meat for her?"

Fortunately, Lucille was engrossed in conversation with Nicholas and Lord Dacre and did not hear, but Polly leant forward curiously. Susanna Bolt was looking very striking again, she thought, in her bold and flaunting style.

There were jewels glittering in her hair and her mouth was a deep, curving red as she smiled triumphantly over her conquest. The sapphire blue eyes which appraised the crowd were the exact shade of Lucille's but there the resemblance finished, for the Countess of Sea grave had such a sweetness of character and bearing that it softened every feature that Susanna's avarice had turned hard.

Polly sighed, just a little envious of Susanna's bold beauty. She knew that her own looks were pleasant enough, although she had never been considered an Incomparable. The Sea grave colouring of chestnut hair and dark brown eyes flecked with gold seemed to suit her brothers better, although her creamy complexion was much admired. And her figure was trim rather than voluptuous, which the gentlemen seemed to prefer. Polly wondered idly whether Susanna's appearance on Gars ton's arm indicated that her brief interest in Peter was over or whether she was just being naive to imagine the Cyprian confining herself to one man at a time.

"Polly!" the Dowager Countess said sharply, as a young buck raised his quizzing gla.s.s to ogle her daughter.

"Kindly sit back! You do not wish to attract the attention of the hoi polloiV Polly's heart skipped a beat and she sat back slowly, for she had just seen Lord Henry March night in a box across from them. He was in a lively group with Simon Verey, his wife Therese and some of their friends, all laughing animatedly at a remark Lady Verey had just made.

Polly felt a quiver of envy and repressed it quickly. It was not that she was bored with her own party, for she always enjoyed Lucille's company and the Misses Dacie were pleasant enough, if hen witted. Just for once, however, it would be fun to be part of a racier crowd. She was forever being chaperoned about by her mother or some other elderly female relative, which was all very well for a new debutante but decidedly slow for a lady of twenty- three. She risked another look across at the box, to find that Lord Henry was studying her with a concentrated regard which made her pulse beat faster.

The play began, but Polly found it incredibly difficult to concentrate.

Normally she became engrossed in a performance, for play going was one of her favourite entertainments, but tonight all she seemed able to think about was whether Lord Henry was serious in his pursuit and whether she should respond.

On the one hand, he could not have any serious intention and since her feelings were already engaged-- and had been so for five years--she would be only stirring up all the old emotions that she should be trying to forget.

On the other hand, she could not deny that she derived immense enjoyment from his company. If she managed matters well, perhaps. But could she manage Lord Henry? It would be Very dangerous . a challenge, then? No, a risk and a hazardous one at that. Foolish even to consider it, knowing his reputation. But. Polly shivered. A risk worth taking? She had found the Season dull, repet.i.tious.

She wanted some excitement. The prim side of her character, the orthodox side, was asking her what on earth she was thinking of, to encourage the attentions of so notorious a rake.

There was a burst of applause, and Polly realised to her horror that the entire first act had pa.s.sed without her even noticing. The audience started to chatter, to mill around and stretch their legs before the second act.

Lucille took Polly's arm as they strolled out with everyone else.

"What do you think of Venn's performance, Polly? Is he as accomplished as Edmund Keen, do you think?"

Polly floundered.

"Well, perhaps so... Or perhaps not... I need more time to consider--'

She broke off as Lord Henry and the Vereys approached, and was not sure whether to be glad or nervous at the interruption.

Lord Henry greeted Lucille very warmly, and once again Polly felt a stirring of jealousy when she considered their friendship. She was not unsophisticated enough to think that just because Lord Henry had suddenly paid some attention to her, he might not be pursuing other interests. But surely Lucille could not rank as one of those! There was an innocence about the Countess of Sea grave which made such a thought seem foolish.

Besides, Lucille had now turned her attention to the Vereys, leaving Polly and Lord Henry standing together.

"Are you enjoying the play, Lady Polly?" Lord Henry asked conventionally enough as they strolled down the corridor,

"Yes, thank you, my lord." Polly was desperately hoping that he would not question her too closely about it.

"You always enjoyed the theatre, did you not?" Lord Henry said with a smile.

"You are not one of those who come only to see and be seen! I remember when we came to see As You Like It, you were so enraptured that no one could get a word from you for a full half-hour afterwards!"

Polly blushed. She could remember the occasion to which he referred and the memory troubled her. It had been very early on in their acquaintance, when she was first out, and she had sat through the play in a dream.

Although utterly engrossed in the story, she had still been fully aware of Lord Henry sitting slightly behind her, his attention as much on her as it was on the play. He had leant forward, smiling at her enthusiasm, and it had seemed to Polly that his enjoyment had derived as much from her pleasure as from the entertainment.

The bell rang for the second act, saving her the necessity of reply.

"A moment. Lady Polly," Lord Henry said, when she would have excused herself and returned to the box.

"Will you drive with me in the park tomorrow?"

Polly stood still, jostled by those returning to their seats.

"Surely not an unusual request?" Lord Henry said gently, with a smile that made her heart race.

"You must be inundated by gentlemen asking to escort you!"

"Yes, but not by you Polly stopped herself.

"I beg your pardon. What I meant was that you never take a lady up in your phaeton!"

"Not often," Lord Henry amended, with the same disconcerting smile.

"I am, however, accomplished enough as a whip to make the offer!"

Polly knew he was being deliberately obtuse. It was not his skill that was in question but the fact that it would cause a storm of comment if he took her up. Lord Henry handed her back into the box as the lights went down.

"I will see you tomorrow at five," he murmured, taking her acquiescence for granted, and was gone. Polly saw him slide into his seat in the box opposite and incline his head as he saw her watching. She was annoyed that he had caught her looking at him yet again, rather than at the play.

Chapter Tow.

QsysQ.

Well, I think it is a famous thing that you and Harry are now such good friends," Lucille Sea grave declared at breakfast, when Polly shyly confided that Lord Henry was to take her driving that afternoon.

"I do not think Mama will view it in quite the same light, Lucille,"

Polly said gloomily. The Dowager Countess had been almost apoplectic on finding her only daughter alone on the terrace at Lady Phillips's with the most notorious rake in Town. Polly's repeated statement that she and Lord Henry had only been talking together had met with short shrift. Not only did the Dowager disbelieve her but she had some pungent words to say about young ladies who decided to talk alone with rake h.e.l.ls.

A moment later, the Dowager swished bad- temperedly into the breakfast room and eyed her daughter and daughter-in-law with disfavour.

"What are you two whispering about?" she demanded querulously. She asked for a plate of kedgeree then picked at it so disagreeably that Polly's heart sank. She could already tell that the Dowager Countess had a headache, induced by her late night at the theatre, and would be in a bad mood.

"I was telling Lucille that Lord Henry March night is to take me driving this aftemooon," she said, rather defiantly.

"He is to collect me at five."

The Dowager flushed an unbecoming puce.

"Driving? With Lord Henry March night? Have you taken leave of your senses, miss? Why, the man's unsafe!"

"As a whip or as a man Nicholas Sea grave enquired lazily, rustling his newspaper. He had given no indication that he had been listening to the previous conversation, but now Polly saw the look of amus.e.m.e.nt in her brother's dark eyes and her heart sank still further. If Nicholas objected as well, the trip was as good as ruined. Lucille gave her husband a reproving glance.