"I am persuaded that nothing so very dreadful can happen in the park, ma'am,"

she said mildly to her mother-in-law.

"There will be plenty of people about, after all."

The Dowager cast her a darkling look.

"You have no idea of what that man is capable, Lucille! And it is not simply the risk to Polly's person, but the damage to her reputation! If she is seen in company with him, all claim to respectability would be lost--' " Oh, come.

Mama, you are making too much of this," Nicholas interrupted.

"Harry March night is a good enough fellow! He will not do anything to injure Polly's good name! I say she should go!"

He folded his paper up a little irritably, got up, bent to kiss his wife and murmured that he was taking refuge in his book room.

"Some honey in your tea, ma'am?" Lucille said hastily, seeing her mother-in-law glare at Sea grave's departing back.

"You know that it is very soothing for the headache."

The Dowager Countess smiled reluctantly. She was very fond of her unconventional daughter-in-law.

"Thank you, Lucille. It is good to know that you have so much concern for my health when my own brood seem set on tormenting me! Now, will you be accompanying me to Mrs Man bury's this afternoon? I realise that Polly--' she glared again '--will be otherwise engaged!"

Polly was to remember Sea grave's unlikely championing and her mother's reluctant acquiescence later, when she was ensconsed in Lord Henry's perch phaeton and they were bowling along under the trees. They were attracting a great deal of attention from the fashionable crowds who had come to take the air and Polly had begun to wish that she had taken her mother's advice. She felt uncomfortable as the focus of so much speculative interest. Nor did Lord Henry stop to greet his acquaintance, but concentrated his attention solely on her. Polly thought she should have been flattered. Instead, such single-minded attention was beginning to make her nervous. She was suddenly unsure where it was leading--or where it might end.

And yet Lord Henry's conversation was unexceptionable. Surely she had nothing to fear.

"Are you enjoying the Season?" he enquired, expertly avoiding an oncoming vehicle which was being driven with considerably less skill and more waywardness than his own.

"Do you like London?"

Polly relaxed slightly. It was most enjoyable to be out in the fresh air, for it was another sunny day with a cool breeze and to be driven with such expertise was a real pleasure.

"Are those not two entirely separate questions, my lord?" she queried with a smile.

"I have found the Season a little flat this year, but yes, I like London a great deal, for there are so many beautiful buildings and interesting sights to observe. There, will that do?"

Lord Henry took his eyes off the road for long enough to give her an amused glance.

"Most comprehensively answered, my lady, but with little real information given! Why has the Season been so tedious for you?"

Polly shrugged a little uncomfortably, regretting her flippancy. She had no desire to sound like a spoilt Society miss.

"Well, the round of parties and b.a.l.l.s and entertainments is much like it was last time. Perhaps I am becoming a little jaded after all these years--' Lord Henry burst out laughing.

"Yes, you have a great many years in your dish, ma'am!" He lowered his voice.

"Perhaps it is just that you need a change of scene? Do you go to Bright on in the summer?"

Polly nodded without much enthusiasm.

"We do. But it is the same people and the same diversions!" She brightened.

"I love the sea though, and find the air most refreshing. I don't know why I should not be looking forward to it..." Her voice trailed away.

She was regretting telling him of her boredom with the endless, superficial round of society events, for it sounded as though she were simply complaining.

"Perhaps you prefer the country?" Lord Henry was saying thoughtfully.

"Suffolk is a beautiful place to be. You seemed very happy at Dilling ham last year."

"Yes..." Polly smiled '. I love Dilling ham. I can ride, and paint and walk and please myself. " Lord Henry flashed her another smile.

"So you are a rebel at heart. Lady Polly! You wish to please yourself rather than follow the fashion!"

It was an appealing concept.

"Gentlemen are more fortunate when it comes to such matters," Polly observed judiciously.

"You may do as you please, but we are watched over and instructed and restricted... And if we marry, the tyranny of our parents is exchanged for the tyranny of a husband!"

Filled with a sudden sense of absurdity at her own words, she started to laugh.

"I wondered whether that was why you had never married," Lord Henry said quietly.

"Is that the reason, ma'am? That you had no wish to exchange a circ.u.mscribed girlhood for an equally restrictive marriage?"

Polly's laughter faded and she fell silent. The only sound was the noise of the phaeton's wheels and the cooing of the doves in the shady trees.

"No," she said slowly, 'that was not the reason that I have never married. " "Then will you tell me what it is?" They had reached a quiet stretch of the road and Lord Henry was allowing his team to slow down while he concentrated on her. Their eyes met for a split second of tension.

"No," Polly said again, half-lightly, half in earnest, "I shall not, sir!

You have no right to ask so leading a question on so small an acquaintance! " She saw Lord Henry smile as he accepted her refusal and allowed her to retreat.

"I protest," he said easily.

"I have known you for years, ma'am, yet you insist we are as strangers!"

"We may have been acquainted for years," Polly agreed, equally casually, 'but for most of that time you have been away, sir, travelling or entertaining yourself. " She frowned as it occurred to her that she did not actually know what it was that had taken Lord Henry away so often.

Society whispered that it was scandal--women, gambling, racing--but no one actually knew. "Very true, ma'am," Lord Henry agreed, clearly unprepared to enlighten her further.

"Like you, I find Society stifling if I spend too long in its company!

I have noticed a change in London lately. Oh, the ton enjoy themselves as much as before, with as many outrageous amus.e.m.e.nts as they can devise, but the rest of the populace is not as tolerant as it used to be!"

Polly knew what he meant. There were so many of the dispossessed on the streets, looking resentfully as the rich and fashionable pa.s.sed by, so many men who had served their country at war and now had no occupation in peace time. There were many who preached against the accepted order and agitated for change and some who would be prepared to resort to violence to get it.

"There is a sort of anger about the city at times," Polly agreed, shivering in the cool air.