"And," Henry added, with the ghost of a smile, 'as long as neither of us admits that we knew of the elopement only fifteen minutes after it occurred, we may avoid any censure! " For a moment they were drawn into a tenuous alliance. Polly felt hope and despair stir in equal measure. Was this how it was always to be, forever wanting more, hoping for more, when Henry had made it clear that he could not forgive her lack of faith in him and she had just demonstrated that she still blamed him for telling her only half a story?

It seemed heartbreaking.

"I must go," she said, a little uncertainly.

"Mama will be wondering, and I have had no supper..."

Henry stirred a little in his chair.

"I shall bid you farewell then, Lady Polly. I am returning to London tomorrow. Perhaps you will be in Town for the Little Season?"

"Perhaps," Polly echoed dully. She felt her spirits sink like a stone.

There would be the Little Season and then the following Season and the year after, forever in Lord Henry's company, forever set apart from him, summers in Bright on, or Bath, or Dilling ham, becoming the spinster aunt, wearing the willow forever. She swallowed hard.

"Good night, my lord," she said.

Chapter Eighteen.

qtqtsq i here was a curious air of quiet about Dilling ham Court the following day. Both Lucille and the Dowager Countess stayed in bed resting, but Polly found herself full of a restless energy that compelled her out of doors.

After breakfast, she took her watercolours down to the lake and sat in the summerhouse trying to paint, but somehow she could not transfer the pretty pastoral scene onto her paper and tore up her efforts in a fit of temper. It seemed that she would not find solace for her broken heart through her painting.

The lake was very calm under the blue sky of early autumn, but the air was warm and the sky was heavy with gathering rain. The light was interesting and Polly was frustrated that she could not convey it onto paper. She put down her brush and leant her elbows on the railing, watching the distant clouds roll towards her. With a sigh, she pushed her paints to one side. A quiet walk was almost always enjoyable, although she would have to be careful that she did not get caught in the rain.

She took the path that skirted the lake, walking slowly down towards the River De ben. The breeze whispered softly in the gra.s.s and stirred the leaves on the trees. It seemed almost unnaturally quiet. The river was running quickly, little eddies pushing at the muddy bank and lapping at the soles of Polly's shoes. She could see the roof of the fishing-house a little further downstream, and wandered towards it.

The skies opened almost as suddenly as they had done that day at Shingle Street, and the rain began in a steady downpour. By the time Polly reached the fishing- house, she was drenched and hurried towards the shelter it provided. The door swung open with one touch of her hand and, as before, she stepped into the dim interior.

Unlike the last time, the pool was empty. The mermen and mermaids watched her with blank eyes. There was total silence. Polly paused. A completely insane idea took hold of her. She had gone sea bathing with the Dowager Countess at Bright on the previous summer and had enjoyed the fresh sensation of the cool water. Of course, the pool was not like the sea, but it would be most refreshing and she was already soaked through.

Without further thought, she stripped off her dress and, wearing only her chemise, eased herself into the plunge pool. The chill of the water made her gasp, but once she had become accustomed to it, it was immensely invigorating. Closing her eyes, she floated on her back, listening to the drumming of the rain on the wooden roof above her head and enjoying the curious sensation of being immersed in water whilst it poured down outside.

She could feel her hair floating free of its pins and almost laughed aloud.

How delightful to feel so free from inhibition, to indulge herself, relish the sensation. She was almost happy.

She opened her eyes, gasped, swallowed what felt like a gallon of water and almost choked. Through streaming eyes she could quite clearly make out the laughing face of Lord Henry March night as he stood beside the pool looking down at her. As she struggled to regain her breath, he crouched down by the pool's edge and caught one of her arms, holding her above water.

"Dear me. Lady Polly," Lord Henry said mildly, 'just when I thought it impossible that you could surprise me, I find myself being utterly astounded!

" To Polly's relief. Lord Henry behaved with perfect chivalry. He made no comment about her state of undress but found her a huge, soft blanket to wrap about her and cover her modesty. Then he almost undid all his good work.

"You will find me an adequate lady's maid, I am sure," he said with a grin.

"I have had some practice at such things!"

The colour flooded Polly's cheeks and she pulled the blanket closer.

"I am in no doubt as to that!" she said tartly.

Henry was still grinning unrepentantly as his gaze took in her tousled hair and pink face.

"You look utterly delightful. Lady Polly! Perhaps you would care to join me on the balcony whilst you dry off?"

Before Polly had chance to demur and effect a discreet withdrawal, he had scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the ladder and out on to the balcony. There was another blanket and a couple of cushions on the bare boards and the remains of what looked like Henry's breakfast.

For a long time they sat together under the shelter of the eaves, watching the rain upon the river. Neither of them spoke. Polly was possessed by the most extraordinary feeling of peacefulness and did not wish to break the spell.

Eventually the rain retreated and the first streaks of pale blue sky appeared again. She stirred.

"Whatever are you doing here, Harry? I thought that you had gone..."

Henry gestured towards the rod and line lying discarded on the edge of the balcony.

"I was fishing:-- until you came to disturb the peace of my retreat!"

He hesitated.

"Truth to tell, I was thinking..." He shot Polly a glance.

"I was coming to see you later, but you have beaten me to it."

The sun came out suddenly, swirling across the dark river water and dazzling them.

Polly suddenly found that she could not meet his eyes.

"What were you coming to discuss with me?" she asked shyly, tracing a pattern in the dust with one finger.

"I thought--last night you intimated that there was nothing more to say."

Henry shifted a little, leaning back against the wall. "Yes, that was wicked of me. I could no more lose you now than I could cut out a part of myself.

Please--' suddenly there was raw feeling in his voice '--tell me that we may put all the misunderstanding and misery behind us and that you will marry me."

At last Polly was able to look at him, but with astonishment rather than anything else.

"But I haven't had chance to explain why I did not tell you--' she began.

"I don't need explanations." Henry took her hand in his and drew her closer.

"I knew last night that you trusted me enough for me to be the first one you came to with a secret. That is enough for me. I know that you must love me as much as I love you."

"Harry--' Polly's voice broke.

"I believe you are almost too forgiving..."

His strained face broke into a smile.

"Do you feel that I should castigate you for the business with Tristan Dit ton? I had felt that we had grown closer over the past few months and the business with Dit ton did set me back." He grimaced.