“Are you ready?”

Sebastian tried to put on an encouraging expression as Polly drew in a deep breath, one hand pressed against her midsection.

“Yes, I think so,” she murmured, looking up at the manor house in front of them through the dark of night. “Sebastian, what have you planned?”

He smiled, wishing he could hold her close. “Lord Yardley will be revealed for the scoundrel he is,” he replied, as the Duke and Duchess came to stand beside them. “All will be well, I assure you.”

The Duke cleared his throat, reaching to take Polly’s arm. “Lord Taylor seems to know what he is doing,” he said, gruffly. “Come now. We do not want to keep Lady Whitethorn waiting.”

Sebastian smiled as the family walked in ahead of him, with Greville and Violet following the Duke, the Duchess, and Polly. He remained behind, aware that to walk in together would start a great many more whispers.

He stood as he watched her climb the steps, the smooth satin of her pale blue dress fluttering around her, with her blonde curls intricately pinned up. She held her head high despite all that was being whispered about her, and he was ever so proud of her. His gaze caught on her, his heart tripped, and he realized that the affection he had for her was so much more than that. It was admiration, yes, but it was … it was love. Bloody hell, he loved her. He had vowed never to give his heart to another, and yet she had taken it with her light and laughter, the goodness inside her that spilled out to everyone around her.

A jostle from behind knocked him forward a step, and he realized he had been rooted on the spot as the thoughts jumbled round his mind. He shook his head and began to mount the stairs himself. Just get through this evening, he told himself. Do this one thing for her.

They had arrived in London earlier that day and, within the hour, Polly had explained all that had occurred between herself and Lord Yardley to her parents. Sebastian had appreciated that she had asked him to remain in the room as she spoke, glad that she was so willing to show her parents that she trusted him. The Duke had, of course, been furious and determined to call Yardley out at once, and the Duchess had dissolved into tears, calling herself a failure for not better protecting her daughter.

Sebastian had been able to address both of their concerns, coming to stand next to Polly and assuring the Duke that Yardley would publicly be shown to be a scoundrel that very evening, at Lady Whitethorn’s ball. The Duke had pressed him for more details, but Sebastian, knowing that there was too much to explain, had simply asked him to remain at Polly’s side and to come forward when the time arrived. He was grateful for the Duke’s trust in him. The man had even asked him to stay at their London manor for the night, as it meant he would not have to re-open his own home but could return to the countryside in the morning.

His work had gone well. Those he had relied on to aid him had done more than their fair share, helping him to find his way forward to bring this terrible situation to a close.

At the same time, Sebastian felt his heart sink with disappointment, knowing that he would return home once things had been brought to an end. There would be no more use for him here. This would be the conclusion of his current case as well as his personal attachment and promise to the Harrington family.

Polly would remain with her parents in London, and he would go back to his estate to continue his life as usual. She would have a wonderful Season, albeit shorter than she had initially planned, and, in time, he would hear of her engagement, if not her marriage. He knew this love he had for her would never diminish, but what she felt for him might, in time, fade away. He was rather old, rather staid, for such a young, bright thing as she. There would be some suffering and pain for them both, but only for a short time. She would find herself caught up in the attentions of many, many gentlemen, he was sure.

And still, he could not stop the memory of how she had felt in his arms from surfacing once more, his blood heating as she turned her head to glance at him.

“Get a hold of yourself, Sebastian,” he muttered aloud, before striding in after them.

The ballroom was crowded and the orchestra in full swing. He greeted Lady Whitethorn warmly, her wide smile telling him that everything was ready for him.

“The orchestra knows to expect you,” she murmured, as he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “He is here, by the way.”

“Good, good,” Sebastian replied, with a quick smile. “And thank you, Lady Whitethorn. This could not have happened without you.”

The older lady’s smile faded slightly. “If it’s one thing I hate – and I know my husband would have agreed – it’s a gentleman who tries to ruin young ladies simply for his own good pleasure. When I heard my own niece suffered at his hands, I vowed to do all I could. You are doing all of us a favor, Lord Taylor. Thank you for asking me to support you in this.”

Sebastian nodded, giving her hand a light squeeze before stepping away, grateful that Lady Whitethorn had been so open to the idea. Of course, it helped that he had aided in the return of some priceless jewels a little over a year ago, for she knew he was trustworthy.

Walking along the balcony, Sebastian chose to remain where he was instead of descending into the ballroom. He saw Polly surrounded by a few ladies who appeared to all be talking at once, including her redheaded friend, Lady Caroline. At least not all had deserted her. Unfortunately, he also saw a great many people whispering behind their hands, pointing boldly in her direction. Rumors had not yet dissipated, it seemed, and yet she seemed determined to ignore them.

A harsh laugh caught his attention, and his hands tightened on the rail as he saw none other than Lord Yardley standing in the corner, with two other gentlemen by his side. Another hurried over toward him, gesturing wildly. Sebastian watched as Yardley’s smile faded, his expression growing rather astonished. Sebastian would move at once if it seemed Yardley intended to make his way toward Polly but, much to his relief, Yardley shook his head and remained where he was. It was just as Sebastian had hoped. With the Duke standing right next to his daughter, Lord Yardley would not dare approach. After all, he was nothing but a coward.

* * *

The music continued for a good hour or so and, thankfully, Polly did not spend the entire evening standing alone. She danced three times and, at the end of each dance, was returned to her father. However, Sebastian could tell that she was struggling with Lord Yardley’s presence, as well as the fact that whispers were still following her wherever she went. There had been around eight dances thus far, and her rather empty dance card certainly signaled that society as a whole had their doubts about her.

It did not matter. All would be revealed soon.

He began to descend the stairs, turning to the side so that a woman coming up could move past him. He hardly looked at her, his eyes on the people in the ballroom below, but when he felt a hand on his sleeve he stopped.

“Sebastian, is that you?”

His head whipped around at the voice. It had been a long while now, and yet he could remember it rather well.

“Patricia?”

The years had been kind to the woman, who was still as beautiful as she had ever been. Her dark hair was artfully pulled back, her face carefully made up. He was surprised at the quality of her dress, knowing the man she had married was rather beneath her station.

“How are you?” he asked, moving back up the stairs with her and out of the path of others.

“Oh, I am rather well,” she said, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. She placed a hand on his sleeve and moved closer to him.

“And your husband?” he asked, still in shock at seeing the woman who he once thought he had loved. He had heard she moved out to the country, away from London and all of society.

“Oh, you have not heard?” she asked, waving a fan in front of her face. “My husband passed last year. Rather unfortunate, to be sure. I have since remarried.”

He was taken aback by her words. He had thought her to be in love with her husband, yet she spoke of his death as if it was hardly an issue.

“I am very sorry,” he said, softly.

“Not at all,” she said with a shrug. “As it turned out, I was not as much in love with him as I thought.” She gave a bit of a laugh. “I thought it was so romantic, running off to Gretna Green to marry a man my parents disapproved of. And, it seemed they were right. I much preferred the comforts that could be provided by a man of means, and I learned my lesson. Marrying without a dowry was rather stupid. Not only could my husband not provide for me in life, but neither in death.”

Sebastian could feel his mouth drop as he gaped at her, but he quickly collected himself.

“And who have you now married?” he asked.

“Lord Anderson.”

Utter astonishment filled Sebastian. “Lord Anderson! He must be near sixty years old,” he said, shaking his head.

“He is,” she said with a smug smile as she leaned into him. “Which is why, Lord Taylor, I have a proposition for you. I hear you are as of yet unmarried, and oh Sebastian, you are just as good looking as you ever were. Perhaps you still hold onto the penchant you once had for me? I might suggest that we continue our former attraction to one another, although in a slightly … different way this time.”

His eyes widened at her words, and he stared at her somewhat disgusted. He had come to terms with the fact that she had left him for love. He thought he had understood it now that he knew what it truly meant to love someone. Now, with all that she had told him … he could hardly remember what it was about her that had initially attracted him.

“I think not,” he said, backing away from her, shaking his head. “Pardon me, Patricia, but I must be…”

“Oh, Sebastian,” she said, her lips forming a pout. “Do not be angry with me. I am sorry I left you the way I did, but I was simply a foolish girl. I know so much more now, and we could have such … fun together.”

Sebastian was repulsed. She leaned farther into him, and as Sebastian looked around, he could see others staring. With his reputation already besmirched, it may be difficult to recover from this. Not that he was particularly concerned what others thought of him, but he didn’t want to make it worse for Polly. He tried to slowly inch away from her.

“I say, Patricia—”

“Lord Taylor!” he heard a familiar voice exclaim, and he tried not to groan. Why did Polly have to come upon him now? The gossips would love this particular scene. Thank heavens they were, at the very least, upstairs and out of sight of most.

“Lady Polly,” he said with a nod, and Patricia finally backed away from him ever so slightly.

“Lady Polly, this is Lady Anderson,” he said stiffly.

Patricia looked Polly up and down, then turned back to Sebastian. “Why, Sebastian, she’s utterly divine. I can see why you are reluctant to accept my offer.”

“Lord Taylor, I believe we have a dance awaiting us,” Polly said with a cheerful grin, and Sebastian thankfully nodded at her, before following her down the stairs.

“That would be your Miss Gladstone, would it not?” Polly asked with an arched eyebrow, once she was in his arms on the dance floor.

“It would,” he confirmed with a nod, unsure of what her reaction might be.

“Greville told me as much when I asked,” she admitted. “You did not look particularly pleased to see her, and I was rather curious. Are you all right?”

“Perfectly,” Sebastian responded, relief flooding through him that she seemed not to care about his run-in with the woman. “I can hardly believe I ever felt a thing for her. I was actually trying to be rid of her but she was ever so persistent.”

“Well, then, Sebastian,” she said with a slight smile curving her lips, “I am pleased that, for once, I was able to be the one to rescue you.”

He laughed at that, and enjoyed the dance with her.