"Would that Lady Polly had your discernment, Sea grave! But I can hardly blame her for jumping to the obvious conclusions! After all, I have deliberately made a name for myself as a rake and gamester. To plead innocence now, no matter how genuine, will cut little ice."

"Susanna Bolt is a deeply mercenary and unpleasant woman," Sea grave said absently, folding his map of Dilling ham away.

"Can she be caught in the same net that will trap Chapman, Harry?"

"I hope so." Henry drained his gla.s.s.

"I plan it to be so! But there is another I am more anxious to catch..."

"An unholy trinity," Sea grave agreed.

"I must confess I do not like it.

Harry. Whilst he is free to come and go as he pleases, there is great danger. " Henry nodded.

"I agree, but we cannot move against him until we are sure of Chapman.

Until then, the risk must be run."

"He does not suspect you?"

"No." Henry permitted himself a grim smile.

"His vanity is such that he suspects no one! And that will be his downfall!"

The following morning heralded another glorious, late summer day, with a sky as blue as cobalt and the sea as smooth and soft as silk. Polly, established with her easel in the shelter of a group of trees, watched as Peter and Hetty, and the rest of their party, strolled away down the beach in the direction of the small huddle of houses which const.i.tuted Shingle Street.

They had had a delightful picnic lunch and now Miss Dit ton had declared it time to call upon the poor fisher families who eked out a living in this isolated spot. Polly pitied the unsuspecting poor.

The settlement at Shingle Street had been augmented in the recent wars when a Martello Tower had been built as part of the coastal de fences.

The only other habitation in the vicinity was the romantically named House of Tides, the home of Lady Belling ham, former actress and black sheep of the county.

Polly had intended calling on her ladyship, who had been a staunch friend of Lucille's before her marriage, but Miss Dit ton had drawn back from the suggestion with distaste.

"Lud, to call on the actress? My mama would have a fit of the va pours if she heard I had been consorting with such a person!"

Polly had reluctantly abandoned her plans of the visit, not wishing to cause disagreement amongst the party and privately reflecting that it was probably unkind of her to inflict Miss Dit ton's company on so likeable a character as Lady Belling ham. All the same, she was sorry.

It was very quiet and the breeze was pleasantly cooling. Polly became engrossed in her sketching, enjoying her solitude, and had no idea how long she sat there. Her attention was eventually drawn back to the present by the small sc.r.a.pe of stone on stone, a little distance away along the shingle beach. She put down her charcoal and listened. The noise came again. There appeared to be no one on the wide empty seash.o.r.e, nor could Polly see anyone else nearby. The cries of children reached her faintly from the cottages where Miss Dit ton was no doubt exercising her patronage, and she could just see Peter and Hetty in the distance, wandering hand in hand along the sh.o.r.e, engrossed in each other.

Polly got to her feet slowly and trod across to the edge of the springy gra.s.s. The small cliff sloped away steeply down to the shingle and cast a dark shadow. Polly squinted in the bright sunlight, then recoiled in surprise at the sight of a figure emerging from the shade a mere twenty yards away. It was Lord Henry March night. He was dusting the sand and shale from his hands and shaking more debris off his jacket. He had not seen her.

"Oh!" Polly's foot slipped as she stepped hastily backwards, sending a small shower of stones down onto the beach. In an agony of suspense she heard them bouncing off the rocks below and peered down to see Lord Henry, his eyes narrowed against the sun, staring straight up at her.

"Lady Polly!" Lord Henry took the steep cliff path with ease and arrived beside her barely out of breath. "How do you do, ma'am! I had no idea that you were there!"

"I have been sketching." Polly gestured towards the easel, its paper flapping in the breeze. For some reason she felt defensive, needing to excuse her presence. And Lord Henry was displaying all his habitual careless elegance and a.s.surance, which was annoying since he had been creeping about on the beach in a most suspicious manner.

"But surely you are not alone?" Lord Henry looked round.

"Where are the others?"

"Oh, they have gone to dispense charity to the villagers," Polly said, trying not to laugh.

"Miss Dit ton is calling on the poor."

"Good G.o.d, must she?" Henry looked disgusted. "But you prefer the solitary company of your sketch book? I cannot blame you, ma'am!"

They started walking slowly along the top of the cliff in the direction of the House of Tides.

"How is Lady Laura today?" Polly enquired hesitantly. She did not wish to pry, but was very afraid that there would have been unhappy repercussions as a result of the clandestine meeting at the Fair.

Henry sighed.

"She is not at all well, I am afraid. My mother has forbidden her from ever speaking to Charles again and she has taken it very badly. Laura is young and headstrong..." He shrugged uncomfortably.

"Mama has always considered her delicate, never realising that Laura's spirit is at least as strong as her own! When I suggested at Dilling ham that you should not encourage Laura in her feelings for Charles it was not because I disapproved of the connection, but only because I knew how it could split the family! Indeed, I have tried to argue her case, but it was no use..."

He shrugged again and fell silent.

Polly felt a rush of mingled relief and apprehension. She was glad to know that Henry was not motivated by the same regard for status and consequence as his parents, but like him she could see that Laura's love for Charles Far rant would set her on a collision course.

"Will Laura accept her mother's edict?" she asked carefully.

"If not, perhaps Mr Far rant might be persuaded... But he seems as smitten as she... Oh, dear, it is so very difficult!"

Henry smiled at this masterly understatement.

"I believe both of them are in earnest and neither will waver in their regard! By far the best course would be for my parents to accept the less-than-brilliant match, but I doubt they will see matters in the same light! I believe Mama will try to send Laura away." His gaze met Polly's.

"Laura deeply regrets the way that she treated you yesterday. Lady Polly.

She would not for all the world have risked your friendship, but she was foolish and her head was filled with romance--' Polly made a slight gesture of dismissal.

"I understand. I would not wish to lose Laura's friendship either and I am sorry that she is so unhappy."

They walked on a little in silence. The breeze was freshening, whipping Polly's hair loose of its pins and tugging at her skirts.

"No doubt you too will be leaving soon, sir," Polly said, a little coolly in case Lord Henry thought that the answer mattered to her.

"Indeed, I am surprised to find you are still with us! You do not usually find our dull occupations diverting for more than a day or two at a time!"

Henry slanted a look at her. He was smiling. Polly found it most unsettling.

"Oh, I intend to be settled here for a while!" he said easily.

"And in truth, there are far more exciting things happening here than, say, at Weller den's houseparty! You would be surprised, ma'am!"

Polly felt vaguely irritated. Lord Henry always seemed to be singing the praises of Suffolk--then hurrying off to be elsewhere.