Part 77 (1/2)

”Now, Richmond...” Lucille tried to look severe.

”I a.s.sume that you have not discussed it with Lord Henry?”

Polly sobered slightly.

”No, and I cannot see that we shall ever do so. I am still resigned to the fact that there is no future for me with Lord Henry, for he is clearly unable to abandon his rakish habits.” A shade of colour crept into her face.

”Indeed, it is one of the reasons why I feel particularly badly about my behaviour.” She struggled a little for the words.

”It is not as if... that is... were we betrothed...”

But Lucille was smiling again.

”It does not do to worry too much about such things, Polly! I have the strangest feeling that all will turn out for the best. Lord Henry, I am persuaded, thinks no less of you for your conduct.” Her eyes twinkled.

”Your folly in becoming foxed, however, is a different matter!”

Polly found herself laughing again in spite of herself.

”Yes, it was unforgivable in me and really very unpleasant to boot! I am sure Lord Henry thinks me a complete fool, which is dreadful! And now this business at the fis.h.i.+ng-house... Oh, Lord, I really have made a complete cake of myself!”

And she collapsed into fresh giggles.

Lucille was also laughing.

”And you think this a calamity? It's the funniest thing I have heard this age!”

”Yes!” Polly raised eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears of laughter.

”I see now that it is! Oh, thank you, Lucille! I feel so much better!”

”Our encounters seem to be becoming ever more dramatic. Lady Polly,”

Lord Henry March night murmured, taking the seat next to hers in Mrs Fitzgerald's drawing-room a week later.

”Is it possible for us to converse in a seemly fas.h.i.+on, do you think, or will something untoward occur simply through our proximity?” There was a blend of mockery and amus.e.m.e.nt in the low tones which Polly found infinitely disturbing, but she was not going to allow him to put her out of countenance.

He had not called to see her during her convalescence and that alone was enough to make her treat him coolly. Although she would never have admitted it, Polly had waited in vain through the hot summer days, hoping that each peal of the doorbell might be Lord Henry, or that each floral tribute might be his.

She should have known better--it was all of a piece with his behaviour in London--but it made it no easier to bear.

She gave him a cool smile.

”Provided that you are able to behave yourself we may do tolerably well, sir,” she said lightly.

”And now that I am so much better, I shall at least be able to make my escape! But--' her smile gained a shade of warmth '--I have not yet had the opportunity to thank you for the service rendered to us in London that night--' Lord Henry touched her hand so briefly, so quickly that no one noticed; Polly thought she might have imagined it were it not for the sensation of warmth his touch aroused. She looked away, confused.

”Do not speak of it. I am just glad that no real harm came of the occasion.”

Polly reflected that Lord Henry's attractions lay not only in his undeniable physical attributes but also in his charm of manner. She had hardened her heart against him and yet she could feel herself weakening already. He spoke as though she were the only person of importance in the room and the intent look in those cool grey eyes was for her alone. And yet it had to be an illusion, for Polly had seen him charming a dozen other women with that mixture of concentrated attention and lazy grace.