Part 6 (1/2)

”Oh!”

Understanding came to Polly at the very last moment, but her head still felt as though it was stuffed with wool. Time seemed to pa.s.s very slowly.

Indeed, she had time to reflect that she had never been kissed by a man, since she had always been exceptionally careful to avoid being alone with any gentleman who was not a relative. Then she remembered that when she had been in the throes of her infatuation, she had quite ached for Lord Henry to kiss her as long as it had been in a completely undemanding fas.h.i.+on. Some chaste but impa.s.sioned salutation had been the height of her aspirations.

This kiss might have been impa.s.sioned, but in no way could it be described as chaste. Lord Henry's arm slid about Polly's waist and brought her into sudden, shocking contact with his body. His mouth captured hers with the ruthless skill of the expert, parting her lips so that her gasp of outrage was lost. For several long, spellbinding seconds, Polly was swept up in a pa.s.sion too complex and demanding for her even to begin to resist.

Lord Henry let her go very gently and Polly stared at him in silence.

The combined effects of unaccustomed drink and strong emotion made her feel quite shaken and she put a hand onto the parapet to steady herself. The stone was cool beneath her fingers, already damp with the night's dew.

Polly frowned a little, confused. How could this have happened when she had intended so different an outcome? Then, utterly unexpectedly.

Lord Henry took her hand and pressed a kiss on the palm.

”Do not look at me so reproachfully. Lady Polly,”

he said quietly.

”Remember that you took your part in making me what I am.”

He turned to go and was confronted once again by the Dowager Countess of Sea grave, rus.h.i.+ng precipitately to the rescue. He gave her a most flawless, ironic bow.

”Lady Sea grave! How do you do, ma'am? I remember once telling you that I would never approach your daughter again. Alas that I am forced to contradict myself, for I find I have a most urgent need to make her reacquaintance! Your servant, ma'am!”

And he left the outraged Dowager spluttering for words.

Chapter Three.

QTQSQ.

lolly woke up with the conviction that something was terribly wrong.

Her head ached with an unaccustomed thick throbbing and her tongue felt furry.

She rolled on to her back. The sun was streaming through the curtains and she could hear the sound of wheels in the street outside. It was late.

Through the woolly feeling in her head, Polly remembered the fruit punch, so apparently innocuous and yet so dangerous. Oh, how could she have been such a fool, she who had been out for five years! Drinking spirits, becoming flirtatious, crowning her folly with a drunken encounter on the terrace with Lord Henry March night! No doubt he thought her the most unutterable fool!

She squirmed, turning her hot face into the cool linen pillow in an attempt to wipe out the vivid memories which were flooding back.

”I've tried to wake her once already, my lady,” a voice was saying, and Polly shot bolt upright, suddenly terrified that her mother was at the door. But it was only Lucille, who came into the room and pulled back the bed curtains with a resounding rasp that echoed through Polly's head.

”Oh! Do not!” Polly's groan was heartfelt. She slumped back on the pillows, feeling dizzy. Her sister-in-law paused in surprise.

”Polly? Are you ill? I thought that you were coming with me to Lady Rout ledge's picnic?”

The light was making Polly's eyes stream. She squinted at Lucille through the brightness. There was a rhythmic pounding in her ears although she had no recollection of any major building works currently taking place on the house.

”Oh dear... I think I may be sick...”

”If I did not know better, I should say that you were foxed,” Lucille was saying severely, eyeing her sister- in-law closely.