Part 82 (1/2)
”Love!” she said crossly.
'”Most loving mere folly,” Lucille quoted lightly,
”Lord, why do I feel so tired all the time?” And she fell asleep where she sat.
The interview with Peter had obviously made Nicholas Sea grave as out of sorts as his brother. He was curt almost to the point of rudeness at lunchtime, announced that he had a number of visits to make about the estate and asked Polly, somewhat surprisingly, whether she would like to join him on the ride. As the day was fine and cooler than of late, Polly agreed with alacrity. They called at a couple of the tenant farms, had tea and cakes at each since Polly was too kind-hearted to refuse the offer, and finished with a gallop along the springy turf at the edge of the sea before turning for home.
The fresh air and exercise had quite restored Polly's spirits and it was unfortunate that as they entered the lime avenue that led up to Dilling ham Court, the cause of her ill-humour should appear before her eyes and undo all the good work of the afternoon.
Lord Henry March night, on an elegant bay, was just trotting down the drive and reined in hastily at the sight of them.
”Lord Sea grave! Lady Polly! This is good fortune indeed! I am just come from the house, where I was told you were out about the estate. I came to take my leave, for I shall be departing Suffolk on the morrow.”
Coming so quickly after Peter's a.s.sertions, this could only confirm Polly's suspicion that Lord Henry was for the Weller den houseparty.
Her chestnut mare jibbed slightly as her hands tightened involuntarily on the reins.
”Is this a permanent departure, Lord Henry?” she enquired sweetly.
”You seem to be forever travelling hither and thither! Such a busy life!”
Out of the corner of her eyes she thought she saw a nicker of a grin cross her brother's face, but Lord Henry remained impa.s.sive.
”A temporary separation only, Lady Polly,” he said, very courteously.
”As you know, I am as fond of Suffolk as anywhere on earth! I shall be back as soon as I am able.”
Polly made a great show of examining her riding gloves.
”And where is your present destination?” she enquired, as though it was of no great moment.
”I have heard that Buckingham s.h.i.+re is proving very popular this summer!”
Lord Henry raised his eyebrows. He was looking so lazily amused that Polly felt herself go hot with annoyance. So he thought it a diversion to trifle with her feelings and then go after other game as the fancy took him!
”Good luck and G.o.dspeed then, Harry,” Nick Sea- grave said, leaning over to shake his hand. Polly, watching this display of masculine complicity with irritation, nevertheless noticed the significant look which pa.s.sed between the two men. She frowned a little as Lord Henry turned his horse and cantered away. It was almost as though Sea grave knew something, and yet what was there to know? Lord Henry was, by his own admission, a man whose prime concern was to seek after pleasure, and if there were other, more mysterious, aspects to his character, what could Nick Sea grave know of those?
”I collect that you were wis.h.i.+ng him good luck in his gambling,” she said crossly.
”In all his ventures,” Sea grave agreed smoothly.
Lady Laura March night was becoming a regular visitor to Dilling ham Court, where she and Polly would walk together in the gardens or set their easels up with some idyllic aspect before them, in the hope of capturing it in watercolours or charcoal. Laura made no further reference to her burgeoning relations.h.i.+p with Mr Far rant, and at the evening soirees and parties in Wood bridge, under the watchful eye of the d.u.c.h.ess, she appeared to be avoiding him. Polly was sad but not surprised that rank and consequence had won the day. In the face of the d.u.c.h.ess's powerful disapproval, it was difficult to see how the romance could have prospered.
She asked no questions but simply enjoyed Laura's company, which was certainly a welcome change from that of the Dit tons.
The Dit tons were relentlessly sociable, especially with those they sought to cultivate, and it was difficult to avoid all their invitations. Polly, having managed to excuse herself from a trip to the theatre in Wood bridge in their company, found that good manners forced her to accept the next pressing invitation, which was to make up a party to visit Myrmingham Abbey, a former Franciscan priory whose ruins were particularly romantic and picturesque.
The scenery was indeed very fine but the company a sad trial with Mr Dit ton uncertain whether to bestow his dubious compliments on Polly or Laura, and Miss Dit ton sulking at not being the centre of attention.
”Lady Polly is becoming quite tanned,” Mrs Dit ton observed to the Dowager Countess, with a hint of malice, as they returned to the carriages at the end of the day.
”I should not encourage my Thalia to wander about in the sun without a parasol!”