Sebastian was, by this point, rather frustrated. All his hopes had been dashed. Lady Polly was ignoring his advice as regarded Lord Yardley, and Yardley was practically oozing with confidence.

He was attending yet another ball — a masquerade no less — and had arrived earlier than he would normally, mostly so that he could watch and wait for Lady Polly and Lord Yardley’s meeting. Unfortunately for him, he had seen the way Lord Yardley had practically pounced on Lady Polly the moment she stepped through the door of the Duke of Stowe’s home, even though this was a masquerade ball. It was quite obvious that she had either told him or shown him what her mask would be, which meant that it was no challenge for Lord Yardley to secure her hand and dot his initials down on her card for his chosen dances.

Not that many would be unsuspecting of Lady Polly’s identity, especially given that her mother followed behind her with the smallest of masks on her face. Evidently, the Duchess did not care for her identity to be concealed, especially when she was meant to be chaperoning her youngest daughter. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, Sebastian was not quite sure.

Polly was resplendent in a long satin gown of purple and aquamarine, quite striking against her own pale coloring. Something like anger balled inside him, his gut clenching as he watched Yardley press a rather prolonged kiss to the back of Lady Polly’s hand. She smiled up at the man, clearly quite taken with him. It had not mattered a jot what her mother — nor he — had said about Lord Yardley, Lady Polly had chosen to ignore it all entirely.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Sebastian clenched the balcony rail and tried to think what he might do. He could not get the lady from his mind, finding that he had become more and more concerned for her as the weeks had gone by. Three weeks it had been since he had last heard Lord Yardley speak about his intention to conquer Lady Polly and Sebastian was in no doubt that the man fully intended to do what he had so proudly stated. He had tried to warn the girl, but the more he said to her, the more determined she was to prove him — and everyone else — wrong.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the lady in question, Sebastian steeled his resolve and moved a little farther along the balcony. He would not rush down and remove Polly from Yardley’s arm, even though everything in him yearned to do so. Rather, he would simply have to wait, enduring while the ball continued on.

It was rather a long wait. Yardley relinquished Polly to other gentlemen who claimed her for their dances but was almost immediately back by her side soon after. Of course, he could not dance with her more than twice but that did not prevent him from staying by Lady Polly’s side as an ardent admirer might. Even the Duchess appeared to be taken in by Yardley’s zeal, for she talked with him quite happily and even waved her daughter and Lord Yardley away onto the dance floor when it came their time to dance.

Sebastian gritted his teeth as he saw the Duchess, her small mask revealing most of her face, talking animatedly with another masked lady, gesturing toward her daughter and Lord Yardley. It appeared Sebastian’s words of warning only a few hours earlier hadn’t had much effect.

Of course, Yardley was running the risk of the Duke’s wrath falling on his head should he do anything to disgrace Lady Polly – but Sebastian knew that Yardley was hoping Lady Polly’s shame would be so great that she would not speak of it to her father. Lord Yardley would simply proclaim himself the victor amongst his friends. There might be whispers and rumors, but both Yardley and Lady Polly would deny them, and, in time, society would move on to a better piece of gossip.

Sebastian’s hands tightened on the rail as he thought of all those Yardley had mistreated before Lady Polly. He would ensure that, this time, he was brought to an abrupt end.

A sudden movement caught his eye as Sebastian realized he’d allowed his gaze to drift away. Polly was being walked toward the doors at the back of the ballroom that led into the gardens – and was gazing up at Yardley with such adoration, she didn’t spare even a backward glance toward her mother.

Cursing, Sebastian hurried along the balcony and down the staircase, knowing he was about to lose sight of them. Once they entered the gardens, he might not be able to find them as easily as he had hoped. Yardley would take her somewhere discrete in order to try and press his attentions upon her, which meant that there was no time to lose. He had to find them, before it was too late.

The moment he stepped outside, the gloom enveloped him, even as he lifted his mask from his face. There were a few lanterns dotted about, but the gardens had been left rather dark – obviously to hide those who chose to walk about the area with a lover by their side. That was a fairly common occurrence, of course, especially for wealthy widows and the like. However, Sebastian was sure that Lady Polly would be rather naïve when it came to such things and was, most likely, simply walking with Lord Yardley under the supposition that he might propose to her.

“Where are you?” he hissed, hurrying forward into the darkness. All he needed to hear was her voice, the sound of her speaking to Lord Yardley. Then he would be able to bump into them both under the pretense of taking air and carefully guide Lady Polly back indoors. She would be angry at him, but so be it. It would, at least, save her any embarrassment – but this would only work if he could find them in time.

“My dear Lady Polly…”

The whisper carried across the gardens toward Sebastian, making him pause. Where had it come from?

“Lord Yardley…” came the muffled whisper, so soft that Sebastian couldn’t make out whether it was in protest or encouragement.

He heard rustling, followed by a bit of a groan.

“Lord Yardley,” her voice was more insistent this time. “I do not think that–”

“Come now, do not be shy,” Lord Yardley pressed, as Sebastian began to approach them more rapidly. “Do you not believe my devotion to you?”

Hardly able to see anything, Sebastian made his way forward to where he thought they were ensconced, hearing nothing but silence for a few moments – until the sounds of a struggle reached his ears. Lady Polly was clearly unwilling to accept Lord Yardley’s advances.

“Lord Yardley, I said no!”

“That is quite enough!” Sebastian called out, seeing a wooden trellis just ahead of him, against which he now saw Yardley had leaned Lady Polly against. “Yardley, whatever do you think you are doing?”

Yardley lifted his head but did not let Lady Polly’s wrists go, still pushing her against the trellis. Both their masks were discarded on the grass.

“And what do you think you are doing?” the man’s voice rang out. “Could you not find a woman of your own this evening, so you thought to ruin my fun? Come now, man, an audience is not much welcomed here.”

“I said, let her go,” Sebastian repeated, his voice low and grating. “It doesn’t seem as if she is completely willing to have your attentions upon her. Step aside, man.”

“Lord Taylor, is that you?” Lady Polly gasped, as Yardley began to chuckle.

“It is,” Sebastian replied, grimly. “Your game is finished, Yardley. Leave the girl be.”

Lady Polly winced as Yardley dropped her wrists from his tight grip, and she unconsciously began rubbing them. She cleared her throat. “Lord Yardley was just sharing with me the depths of his affections, Lord Taylor,” she replied, a little breathlessly. “Although I believe he became rather caught up in the moment and did not stop when I asked him to. Please understand, Lord Yardley, this cannot happen again.”

Sebastian blinked, somewhat confused. Lady Polly was taking all this rather well, he thought – until he actually took note of her words and realized that she was still under the impression that Yardley actually felt something for her, that maybe he was even in love with her. Closing his eyes for a moment, Sebastian set his jaw and drew closer to them both. This was going to be heartbreaking for the girl. He knew all too well how she would feel.

“Lady Polly, you believe the man is going to marry you, do you not?” he asked, then took in Yardley’s widening eyes. “Yardley, you had best go find the Duchess of Ware and tell her you wish to wed her daughter, for you well know what it means to be caught in a garden placing such attentions on an eligible young lady. Although, it doesn’t much matter if you are to wed anyhow, now does it?” He held the man’s gaze firmly, seeing the way his jaw began to jut out.

“Lord Yardley?” Lady Polly asked, her voice a little uncertain as she turned her gaze to the man, who said nothing. “You said that you were considering a future with me, and I do believe that mayhap Lord Taylor is correct.” She lifted her chin and tried to capture his gaze. “Such attentions are both wonderful and yet rather improper.”

Lord Yardley began to laugh, his eyes glittering as he dropped Lady Polly’s hands. “I suppose I have no choice but to now tell you the truth of it, my dear girl,” he chuckled, his voice filled with mockery. “I have no intention of wedding you, Lady Polly. I never have.”