"Poor Mrs Dit ton--and poor Thalia! I could almost find it in my heart to feel sorry for them!"

"Lucille! That horrid Miss Dit ton!" Hetty raised her brows.

"How can you spare them your sympathy?"

Lucille smiled a little sadly.

"Only think what it must be like for them now, Hetty! Mrs Dit ton was always so proud of her offspring and she has precious little to be proud of now! A son in prison and a daughter who will no doubt be abandoned by her fiance!

They will be forever moving now, trying to conceal their notoriety, looking over their shoulders, afraid that someone will give their shameful secret away. Tristan has brought them to that and I pity them."

"And to think that Lord Henry knew all the time that Tristan Dit ton was a criminal!" Polly said, an edge to her voice. Everyone looked at her again.

The words had come out more loudly than she had in tended, but she was so angry she could not contain them.

"You told me much of the truth about your activities, Lord Henry," she said coldly, aware that everybody was listening but speaking for Henry alone, 'that night at the ball. But the most important part you chose to neglect--' "As did you, my lady," Henry said gently, holding her gaze, 'when I pressed you to tell me the means by which Dit ton compelled you into the betrothal.

Would you care to enlighten us now that all is safe? " Polly caught her breath. Against her will her gaze slid to Hetty and away again.

She had not thought to speak of this in company.

"I think not, sir." She cleared her throat.

"The matter is closed now that Mr Dit ton is under arrest. It need concern us no further."

"Perhaps you still consider yourself bound by the betrothal?" Henry asked, for all the world as though he genuinely believed it might be so.

Polly reddened with a combination of embarra.s.sment and annoyance at his persistence.

"Certainly not!" she snapped.

"But the matter is no longer relevant--' " Nonsense, Polly! " The Dowager Countess could be most obtuse when she chose to be.

"You may speak freely, my love! We are all positively consumed with curiosity and will not rest until we know!"

Polly, who had found herself incapable of tearing her gaze away from Henry's look of challenge, forced herself to face her mother instead.

"No, truly. Mama, it will not serve--' " I think you should speak out, Polly. " Surprisingly it was Lucille who spoke up now, gently but firmly.

"You may find that what you believe--what you have been told--is not the case. At the very least, I do not believe that the truth can be hidden any longer."

Polly stared at her.

"Lucille? But--how can you know?"

"Tell us," Lucille repeated, and her tone was inexorable.

Polly allowed herself to look across at Peter and Hetty, who were sitting opposite her on the sofa. Peter looked vaguely puzzled but the delicate colour had already started to come into Hetty's face, as though she sensed what was to come. Polly took a deep breath.

"Very well, if it must be so. Mr Dit ton came to me on the night of the ball. First he suggested that we should become betrothed to protect my good name from the scandal caused by his presence in my bedroom that night at the House of Tides. I thought this ridiculous and told him so. He then dropped all pretence of respect and affection." Polly looked briefly at Hetty again.

This was so very difficult. Everybody was quite silent, waiting for her to continue. Lucille was willing her on with a look of combined sympathy and determination.

"Mr Dit ton told me," Polly said very clearly, 'that he had information injurious to Hetty's reputation and that he would make it public--announce it in the ball- room--if I did not immediately consent to an engagement between the two of us. " "Oh!" Hetty had gasped even before Polly finished speaking, pressing one hand to her mouth, her cheeks scarlet and her eyes wide with horror. Polly watched as Peter moved closer, taking her hand in a comforting hold.

"Mr Dit ton must have told you what that information was in order to gain your consent," Lucille observed, coolly.

"And it must have been convincing.

You would not have believed it else. " Polly's eyes flew to her face.

"Yes, indeed, but-- Lucille, I cannot!" She threw another look at Hetty, who had turned her face into Peter's shoulder.

"Hetty, I am so sorry! I did not wish to tell--' Peter's face was grim.

"You should finish Dit ton's tale. Poll!"

"How can I?" Polly appealed to them. She felt sick at what was happening.

Hetty looked like a broken b.u.t.terfly, her tumbled curls brushing Peter's shoulder, her face hidden. Polly had a horrible vision of Peter pushing her away, repudiating her when he knew the truth. Yet Peter was holding her so tenderly, whispering words of comfort, almost as though he knew. "You know!"

she said, almost accusingly.

"I know the truth," Peter said harshly, 'but what is the tale? "

Astonishingly, whilst Polly groped for the words, it was Henry who answered.

"My guess is that Dit ton told Lady Polly that Miss Mark ham had spent a night alone at an inn with a man, and that the man was Edmund Grantley."

This time it was Polly who gasped. She stared at him in astonishment.

"How could you possibly know?"

Across from her. Henry said bitterly, "I would guess further that Lady Polly could not bear for her future sister-in-law to be ruined, but most of all she could not see you hurt and disillusioned, Peter.

Perhaps she thought that you might already know and that you were protecting Miss Mark ham by offering her marriage. In either case.

Lady Polly knew that you loved Miss Mark ham sincerely and would be dreadfully injured by the disclosure. It was misplaced loyalty that kept her silent--and impelled her into the betrothal."

Polly could not speak. Hetty was crying quietly in Peter's arms and Polly wished she could follow suit. Her mother's face was stiff with shock and horror, Nicholas looked almost as grim as his brother, and it was Lucille who came across to Polly in a rustle of silk and put an arm around her.

"I did what I thought was right!" Polly said. It seemed to her that the words came out too loudly, rattling the china, making her listeners wince.

"Of course you did," Lucille said soothingly, hugging her close.

"It is just that Mr Dit ton's story was not true. Oh, if only you had confided in someone--' She bit her lip, clearly thinking that this was hardly the time for recriminations.

The Dowager Countess, who had been viewing Hetty's sobbing figure with a mixture of concern and doubt, turned to Lucille, her face clearing.

"The tale was not true, you say? Dit ton invented it? But--' Nicholas Sea grave stirred slightly.

"Peter," he said thoughtfully, 'there is nothing for it but to tell the truth. " Hetty gave a little whimper.