"One has the impression that any suggestion of strong emotion would have you recoiling with the va pours!"

"Indeed!" Polly was now more cross than indignant. "I do not know how you have the effrontery to accuse me of a want of feeling! When we met in London you behaved like the greatest rake imaginable, and I did not hear you complaining that I was lacking in my response to you the nV She broke off and clapped her hand to her mouth, but it was too late.

The words could not be unsaid.

The expression on Henry's face would have silenced her anyway. There was amus.e.m.e.nt there and a dawning warmth, melting into a tenderness that made her catch her breath.

"You tricked me," she said, and it came out as a whisper.

"I should never have said that..."

"Yes," Henry also spoke softly, "I'll admit I gave in to a perverse impulse to provoke you, for you sometimes seem so prim and yet I know you to be different..."

The hot colour flooded Polly's face. She took an instinctive step towards him, knowing that in a moment she would be in his arms.

There was a blast of fresh, salty air, then the main door banged in the breeze and Gaston came forward, clucking with disapproval.

"Morning, Polly! Morning, March night!" Peter, smiling with genial cheer, ushered Hetty into the hall, where Gaston fussed about taking her scarf and coat. Peter was chatting easily to the butler and seemed completely oblivious to the scene before him. Hetty, her face flushed pink from the cold air, looked from Polly to Henry and raised her brows very slightly.

Polly tore her gaze away from Henry's with an effort of will.

"I was just waiting for Sir G.o.dfrey," she said, slightly at random and to no one in particular.

"He has come to escort us back to Dilling ham, but it seems he is already acquainted with Lady Belling- ham..." She gestured vaguely towards the drawing- room door.

Henry was laughing openly at her obvious confusion and she was both charmed and annoyed by his teasing. He seemed suddenly so sure of his power to disturb her and with masculine arrogance was enjoying it.

Despite Peter and Hetty's arrival, Polly still felt deliriously fl.u.s.tered and excited. She knew that Henry would have kissed her if the others had not come in and she felt out-of-proportion disappointed to have been denied the experience.

"Are you quite well. Lady Polly? You are looking rather flushed.

Perhaps your experiences last night have overset you?" Henry had taken her hand, a wicked smile on his face, eyes dancing.

"I hope you are quite well, for it is the De ben yacht race tomorrow morning and I quite count on your support to help me wrest the cup from Marcus Fitzgerald!"

"Oh, a race!" Hetty clapped her hands, eyes shining. "We shall all be there to cheer you on. Lord Henry!"

"There is a luncheon afterwards at the Queen's Head," Henry continued, 'and, of course, in the evening there is your mother's impromptu ball.

A day of uninterrupted pleasure, which is what I like best! " Polly gave him a repressive look which he met with one of limpid innocence.

"Shall we see you at the ball then, my lord?" she asked demurely, trying to withdraw her hand from his.

Henry did not release her. Instead he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss on it. "Certainly you shall. I hope you will save a dance for me, Lady Polly!"

"I should be delighted, sir." Polly cast him a look under her lashes.

He was still smiling in that slightly challenging way, and for a moment her heart skipped a beat through sheer antic.i.p.ation.

"Until tomorrow then, my lady," Henry murmured, letting her go at last.

"I.

should be on my way to Fen- church, I suppose. Your servant, ma'am.

Miss Mark- ham . Peter. " "Oh." Hetty sighed soulfully, as they watched his tall figure stroll away towards the stables.

"Oh, Polly, he really is so very charming..."

The drawing-room door opened and Lady Belling- ham came out, deep in conversation with Sir G.o.dfrey.

'put up for the night at Famforth," Sir G.o.dfrey was saying, 'at the Rose and Crown. Not a bad hostelry, but a little overcrowded..."

Polly was still gazing after Lord Henry's retreating figure, but spun around at a faint noise from Hetty. The other girl had gone chalk white, her hands to her breast as though pierced by an arrow.

"Gaston! A chair for Miss Mark ham!" Lady Bel- ling ham, hearing Polly's exclamation of concern, had hurried forward to take control of the situation.

"Con- chita! My hart shorn! There now, my dear..." With infinite gentleness she helped Peter ease Hetty into the chair.

"Have no fear, you will feel better directly..."

Hetty was drooping like a cut flower. She was still alarmingly pale, but her eyelids fluttered. Peter, kneeling beside her, was the picture of concern.

"The heat..." Lady Belling ham was saying excusingly, although it was still early and a very fresh day, 'and the wedding preparations no doubt. You must take care not to overtax yourself, my dear! " "Yes, ma'am," Hetty said submissively, and Polly saw a tear slide from the corner of her eye and make a trail down her pale cheek. For a moment Polly had the horrible thought that Hetty might not wish to marry Peter and that that was what was making her so unhappy. Yet Hetty was gazing at Peter with the concentrated regard that was surely a sign of love rather than dislike, and was clutching his hand as though her life depended on it. And there had been nothing in their behaviour to suggest anything other than they were both pleased to be marrying so soon. Polly frowned. She had discussed Hetty's strange behaviour with Lucille, but neither of them could understand why Miss Mark ham, normally so ebullient, had become so tense and woebegone.

She was not ill. She should have been happier than ever before in her life.

It made no sense.

Hetty was struggling to get to her feet, a little colour coming back into her face.

"I am so sorry... I cannot imagine what is the matter."

She saw Lady Belling ham looking at her with thoughtful concern and looked as though she was about to burst into tears. She scrubbed viciously at her eyes.

"We had better start for home. Lady B.," Peter said hastily, a protective arm around his betrothed.

"It will be best for Hetty to rest. Shall we see you at the ball tomorrow?"

The atmosphere lightened as Sir G.o.dfrey added his pressing persuasions.

"Dear lady, of course you must be there! You will be the belle of the ball, putting all others in the shade!"

Lady Belling ham acceded graciously to his invitation and they went out to the carriage in a flurry of repeated good wishes and invitations.

Peter and Hetty sat very close together on the way home, Hetty's head against his shoulder, and Sir G.o.dfrey sat in his corner of the carriage with a ridiculously famous look on his face. It was clear that he was dwelling on the delights of renewing his acquaintance with Lady Belling ham.

Polly, despite the promise of encountering Lord Henry again the following day, began to feel decidedly left out. All the world, it seemed, was in love, but she was the only one who had no notion where it was leading.

Chapter Thirteen.

You are in magnificent looks tonight, Lady Polly.

" It was not Lord Henry March night but Tristan Dit ton who bent close to Polly's ear, his sharp gaze appraising her with familiarity, his foxy face wearing an unpleasant smile.

Polly stepped back sharply. For a man who had retreated ignominiously only the two nights before, Mr Dit ton seemed in very high spirits.