"She told my sister to beware of false friends. Miss Dit ton, and to value true friendship above rubies!"

Chapter Ten.

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It was a sad little party that made its way back to Wood bridge. Charles Far rant and the March nights had gone their separate ways, with Lady Laura still sniffing into her handkerchief.

Miss Dit ton spent the entire journey speculating spitefully about Laura and Mr Far rant, pressing Polly to give details of the encounter between them and Lord Henry, certain that it was less good-humoured than Polly insisted. Polly's head ached. She had no wish to be obliged to lie even more and it only made Laura's treatment of her seem more shabby. She had liked the girl and considered her a friend. It was lowering to imagine that she had been used to further the clandestine romance. As for Lord Henry, she did not wish to think of him at all, for all her thoughts were melancholy ones.

It was with considerable relief that they reached the gates of Dilling ham Court, and Polly insisted on leaving the Dit tons' coach and walking up the lime avenue to the house. As she approached the carriage sweep, she was startled to see a travelling coach on the forecourt surrounded by what seemed vast amounts of luggage. Polly's spirits lifted and her step quickened.

This had to be Peter and Hetty Mark ham, back from Kings mar ton.

That must mean that the two of them were reconciled, which was a much-needed piece of good news.

Polly found the whole family a.s.sembled in the rosewood drawing-room.

Miss Mark ham, a pretty girl with huge blue eyes and copious amounts of curling brown hair, was standing clutching Peter's hand and looking embarra.s.sed as she responded to the Dowager Countess's slightly frosty welcome.

"Hetty and I are to be married in six weeks' time," Peter was saying as Polly slipped into the room.

"We see no point in waiting any longer. After all, the wedding has already been delayed once."

The Dowager Countess blanched a little, startled into plain-speaking.

"Six weeks? There will be a lot of talk, Peter! Everyone will say that you have antic.i.p.ated your marriage vows and need to make a hasty match--' Hetty flushed bright red and muttered something incoherent.

For a fleeting moment she put her face in her hands, a gesture which Polly noticed with both concern and curiosity. Peter was standing his ground in the face of his mother's bluntness, although he too had reddened. There was a very curious atmosphere in the room, Polly thought. She took a chair un.o.btrusively by the fireplace and accepted a cup of tea from Lucille with a slight smile of thanks.

"Please, Mama!" Peter was saying carefully.

"I suppose we must resign ourselves to being the subject of ill-bred remarks, but I do not intend to let my life be governed by it!"

Polly and Lucille exchanged a look. It seemed to Polly that Peter had grown in stature since he had gone away. There was a protective element in his behaviour towards Hetty that was very obvious and must surely augur well for their future relationship. Miss Mark ham, in contrast, seemed to have lost much of her natural ebullience and vivacity but perhaps this could be put down to an embarra.s.sment at the rupture with Peter, now so fortunately overcome.

There was an awkward little silence that threatened to become prolonged.

Polly hastened forward to kiss Hetty and draw her over to the sofa where she started to ask about the journey and enquire into Mrs Mark ham's health.

Gradually Miss Mark ham relaxed a little and by the time the drinks were replenished, accompanied by some more of Mrs Appleton's delicious honey cakes, she was chatting almost as normal. It still seemed to Polly that there was something brittle in Hetty's manner and her eyes watched Peter almost constantly as if for rea.s.surance. Polly, tired by the events of the day and the difficult scene at the Fair, noted Hetty's change of manner but felt too weary to think about it properly.

It slipped to the back of her mind during the lively and enjoyable family dinner that followed, and it was only as she was brushing her hair before the mirror at bedtime that she remembered Hetty's tension and wondered at it. She could think of no explanation, however, and went to bed thinking that she must speak to Lucille about it. If anyone would know what was the matter with Hetty, it would be Lucille.

Polly would have been astonished to learn that a lone visitor called at Dilling ham Court that night, long after she was abed. Medlyn had taken the visitor's card along to the study where the Earl of Sea grave sat up late, poring over old estate maps. He ushered the man into the Earl's presence and accepted his master's instruction that he should then go to bed. He asked no questions and in the morning all recollection of the visit had slipped his memory.

When their business was finished, the Earl offered his guest a second gla.s.s of brandy and sat back.

"So, how does your suit prosper. Harry?" he asked idly.

Henry March night gave his lop-sided grin.

"Very badly, I thank you! Your sister is now convinced that I am a hardened rake and lecher! She has me pursuing Lady Bolt from Richmond to Buckingham shire! Never has the price of information been so high!"

"Lady Bolt ruining your reputation, is she?" Sea- grave asked with spurious sympathy.

"I thought she must have some information you wanted! I could not see you getting caught like that otherwise!"

Henry grimaced.

"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!"