Part 101 (1/2)

Polly steeled herself against the memory of that brief time when they had been in such perfect accord. ” And I would be astounded were he even to return to Dilling ham for the wedding next week! ” she finished with relief.

The Dowager raised her dark brows.

”Now there you are fair and far out!” she said triumphantly.

”I have had the most delightful letter from Lord Henry, engaging himself for the wedding and the breakfast! He will be escorting his mother and sister. Oh, and the Vereys are also coming up from London!

Is that not fine? Perhaps,” the Dowager said, brightening, 'it will be almost as good as a Society wedding, after all! ” Lord Henry did not come to the wedding. The d.u.c.h.ess of March night, accompanied by the Vereys and stately in Dowager purple, explained graciously that her son had been detained on business but hoped to join the wedding party later in the day. Polly was acutely disappointed. She tried not to lose interest in the proceedings as a radiant Hetty wafted up the aisle on Nicholas Sea grave's arm to be joined in holy wedlock with his brother.

The service went very smoothly. The Dowager Countess cried becomingly into a large lace-edged handkerchief and Mrs Mark ham sniffed slightly less elegantly in the pew opposite. Hetty and the Dowager both wore expressions of faint relief as she floated down the aisle again, this time on her husband's arm. A happy end to a potential scandal, Polly thought with a smile. Now that they were safely married and Hetty had the protection of Peter's name, the whole unfortunate episode could be allowed to slip into the past where it belonged.

The wedding breakfast at Dilling ham Court seemed interminable to Polly.

Had Henry been there she would have been consumed with nerves, but as it was, she felt both disappointed and let down. Eventually they rose from table to take a rest before the evening dance and supper for the Sea graves' tenants and the villagers. Polly felt out of sorts.

Misery had prompted her to eat too much and the meal weighed heavily on her stomach. She lay down in the cool of her room and allowed herself to doze.

She was awoken by the sound of hooves on the gravel outside and voices raised in greeting. Hurrying across to the window, Polly was in time to see Henry March night hand his reins to one of the grooms as Nick Sea grave came forward to shake his hand and lead him up the steps into the house.

That put a different complexion on the evening. Polly, lethargy forgotten, rushed to the bell and rang energetically for Jessie.

By the time she was ready, the dancing had already started in the Long Barn.

Peter was energetically twirling his bride around in a spirited country dance whilst the villagers, made merry by drink and good food, roared their encouragement. The older folk had retired from the fray, but the Vereys had remained and Lady Laura March night seemed to have persuaded the d.u.c.h.ess to allow her to stay. Polly was immediately swept into the dance by Simon Verey.

Henry was dancing with Therese Verey and Polly attempted the difficult manoeuvre of trying to see his face whilst executing the complicated steps of the dance. She could read nothing there. Nothing of encouragement or liking or interest. He did not even glance in her direction. She sighed inwardly.

Perhaps they were back as they had been a few short months ago, mingling at the same social events but apart, almost strangers. It seemed intolerable and yet she might have to learn to live with it.

Then Simon Verey was steering her across the floor towards Henry and was saying, ”You must grant Lord Henry a dance. Lady Polly, for he has ridden all this way solely for that privilege!”

Henry gave him a droll smile.

”What a good friend you are, Simon, giving all a fellow's secrets away!”

Simon smiled imperturbably, gravitated back to his wife's side, and Henry took Polly's hand with grave courtesy.

”Will you dance. Lady Polly? Good manners might compel you to accept after that introduction!”

”I need no compulsion, sir,” Polly said, looking up into those steady grey eyes and feeling a little dizzy. Hope and fear were warring within her.

Did they have another chance?

They danced in silence. The country jigs and figured dances favoured at such rustic gatherings hardly leant themselves to conversation. All about them the chatter and laughter ebbed and flowed, the tankards of ale were drained and replenished, but Polly was only conscious of Henry's eyes following her through the movement of the dance and the brief touch of his hand on hers.

”You have been good enough to grant me this dance. Lady Polly,” Lord Henry said when the music ended.

”Will you go further and grant me a private interview? There are matters we must discuss--' ” Lord Henry! ” It was Hetty, bright-eyed and beaming with happiness, who was at his elbow.

”Oh, I am so glad you were able to be here!”

She stood on tiptoe as Henry bent to kiss her cheek and wish her happy.