“Lord Yardley,” Polly murmured, as the gentleman bowed before her, his light blue eyes lit with apparent gladness upon seeing her. “How good it is to see you again.”

“Indeed,” came the reply, a small, sensuous smile pulling at his lips. “I do hope that you have at least one space on your dance card for me?”

Polly felt her cheeks burn as she held out her dance card, far too aware of how delicately he touched her fingers as he took it from her.

“How wonderful,” he murmured, glancing up at her from under his brows. “I shall put myself down for two dances, my dear Lady Polly – and the second shall be the supper dance.”

Polly averted her eyes, hoping he would not see the spark of delight in them. After their disastrous ride, Lord Yardley had done all he that he could to apologize and pursue her. Polly had been slightly unsure after he had first called upon her, but his continued persistence and charm had ensured she had completely forgiven him.

His subsequent visits had not been near as exciting as the first, an experience she certainly had not shared with her mother. Marie had, initially, been slightly disapproving of Lord Yardley and his attentions, but she was beginning to come round. As these three weeks had passed, her mother had slowly begun to lessen in her dislike of him. While she did not encourage the association, there was no longer the obvious aversion which, as far as Polly as concerned, could only be a good thing.

Polly had delighted in his attentions toward her, finding him to be rather doting upon her, always with a complimentary word and a look that would send her heart racing. She also couldn’t ignore how very handsome he was, and she knew the two of them made a rather becoming couple.

She had also come to realize that her initial impression of him was rather too judgmental, as now he made her feel as though every smile she gave him was some kind of wondrous gift.

“The supper dance shall be what I look forward to the most this evening,” Lord Yardley said, taking her hand for a moment. “I very much anticipate having you all to myself, Lady Polly.”

More than aware of just how strong a reaction she was having to him, Polly blushed and curtsied, only to see her mother approaching.

Lord Yardley glanced in her mother’s direction, and something flickered in his expression. "Please excuse me. I must see to a somewhat important matter." He took his leave rather quickly, though he held Polly’s gaze with an intensity that sent tingles up her spine.

“Ah, Polly,” her mother smiled as she joined her. “Was that Lord Yardley with you?”

“It was, Mama,” Polly replied, frankly. “He has engaged me for two dances.”

Her mother’s smile somewhat faded. “Has he indeed?” she murmured, picking up Polly’s dance card. “The supper dance, no less!” With a sigh, she let it fall, shaking her head just a little. “You must be careful of that gentleman, Polly, at least until your father returns. He is charming, to be sure, but I am still not altogether sure of him.”

Polly made to retort only to see none other than Lord Taylor standing by her mother, his eyes fixed on hers.

“Lord Taylor,” she said, weakly, hoping he had not noticed the anger on her features. “I did not see you there.” She had been slightly embarrassed to see Lord Taylor again after he had rescued her in the park, but he’d said nothing of it when she’d seen him at various events since then, although he had not always spoken to or danced with her. However, wherever she went, was she to catch sight of him, he would always be looking directly at her. It was as though he was constantly attuned to her, keeping her within his line of sight.

She could not quite understand why he did so, of course, especially given that he appeared to have very little interest in the other eligible young ladies, and, for her sake, she had never once encouraged any kind of attention from him. She wasn’t sure what to think. He was good looking, to be sure, but in a much more rugged way than the typical gentleman, and he did not have the charm of Lord Yardley.

“May I engage you for a dance, Lady Polly?” he asked, with a slight bow. “I am not tardy this evening, as you see, in the hope that I might find you with a vacant space on your dance card.”

Polly simply held out her wrist toward him. He grasped it and signed his name to the only remaining space – a waltz.

“And I would echo your mother’s words,” he continued, as he let the card fall. “Lord Yardley is not all that he seems.”

Lifting her chin, Polly’s indignation lit. She liked Lord Taylor, but she truly wished he would not speak ill of Lord Yardley. “I am well able to form my own opinion of the man, Lord Taylor.”

“Be that as it may,” he replied at once, without a hint of anger, “I know Lord Yardley better than you might. There is more to him than he lets people see. He hides a great deal of himself away from your sight in the hope that your affections for him will grow.”

“I have no affection for him,” Polly retorted, the lie tripping easily from her tongue as she felt her shoulders tighten in defense. Who was Lord Taylor, to tell her who she should and should not be interested in? “You are quite mistaken there, Lord Taylor. He is a friendly acquaintance, that is all.”

Her mother let out a breath of relief, patting Polly on the shoulder. “I am vastly relieved to hear that, Polly. I do not trust him, even though he is the son of a very dear friend of mine. I am glad you are being wise about this. I must confess that I did seek Lord Taylor’s opinion of the man since he seemed to be acquainted with him and is such a close friend to your brother-in-law. Do not be cross with him, Polly. I trust his judgment, especially since it aligns with my own.”

Growing more irritated by the second, Polly tried her best to smile, completely ignoring her mother’s words. She had thought her mother was warming to Lord Yardley, who had been nothing but a gentleman toward her. As far as she was concerned, both her mother and Lord Taylor did not know Lord Yardley in the way she did. She was quite sure the man he revealed to her was his true self, and with everyone else he presented a facade. The warmth in his eyes when he smiled at her could not be there if he were not genuine.

“Thank you, Mama, Lord Taylor,” she said, a little crisply. “Now, I do believe Lord Thompson has come to secure me for his dance. Do excuse me.”

“Of course,” her mother smiled, clearly still relieved. “Away you go, my dear.”

Polly was so frustrated that she did not enjoy her dance with Lord Thompson in the least, even though Lord Thompson himself was rather charming. She mumbled her way through the conversation, managed to completely muddle her steps, her irritation rising with every moment, and she only just remembered to curtsy when the dance came to an end.

Lord Taylor had absolutely no right to talk to her mother about Lord Yardley in such a way. After all, neither of them was being courted by him, which meant that neither of them had his full measure. They did not have his whispered words in their ear, nor his gentle smiles directed toward them. All they saw was his past misdemeanors, and they chose to judge him according to the gossip of the ton. Polly lifted her chin as she returned to the other guests, determined that she would come to her own conclusion once and for all.

She would speak to Lord Yardley of his roguish ways and tell him what her mother thought of him. He would then have the opportunity to tell her the truth about his nature, although Polly was already quite sure what he would say.

He would be honest with her, of course, and tell her that he had once behaved that way but no longer had any intentions of doing so. He knew what a courtship would lead to. Polly could think of no other reason for his affections, than that he truly wished to pursue her heart.

* * *

When the time came for the supper dance, Polly let out a long breath of relief as Lord Yardley came to claim her, his eyes warm as he held out his hand toward her.

“Lord Yardley,” she murmured, smiling up at him. “I am rather pleased to see you.”

His eyebrows rose as he placed her hand delicately on his arm. “I am delighted to hear it,” he replied, smiling. “I very much enjoyed our first dance.”

Polly had enjoyed it too, of course, but given that it had been a quadrille, she had been unable to have much of a conversation with him. “What I mean is, I have been looking forward to speaking with you.”

Lord Yardley frowned. “It seems something has upset you.”

“You are very perceptive, my lord,” Polly replied, a little surprised that he knew from her expression what was going on in her heart. “Yes, I have been a little troubled this evening, which is why I have been waiting to speak to you.”

“Then perhaps a rather private table might be in order. Shall I ensure one?” he replied, as the music began. “Just a few more minutes, Lady Polly, and then you shall have me all to yourself.”

As they began to dance, Polly felt herself relax, the tension slowly rolling away from her shoulders. Lord Yardley would understand why she asked him such things, she was quite sure of it. He had no reason to think that her own affections were not already engaged, given how warm she had been toward him and how welcoming she had been whenever their paths had crossed. She had delighted in his company and been thrilled that he had called upon her so often, despite her mother’s initial sourness. Mayhap he would soon ask for permission to officially court her, and, should he do so, Polly would certainly accept. Her father being away from London for so long, she was sure Lord Yardley could begin to court her without his permission, as long as he continued to prove that he had left his roguish ways behind. She would tell him so tonight.

“Now,” Lord Yardley began, as the music came to an end and the guests began to make their way through the ballroom toward the refreshments. “You must tell me what is on your mind, for I believe it will be some time before we can find a table!”

“It is rather a crush,” Polly agreed, seeing her mother waving at her from the front of the crowd. She pretended not to see her as she much preferred to be alone for this conversation. She followed him to a recessed corner that was well out of hearing of any other guests. “Well, to be truthful, Lord Yardley, I am having a rather dreadful time as I continue to hear of your rather … sullied reputation.”

Lord Yardley stared at her, a look of astonishment on his face. “Sullied?” he repeated, one hand on his heart. “Goodness, I am sorry to hear that. Sullied by whom?”

Polly hesitated, not wanting to bring her mother’s name nor Lord Taylor’s into disrepute. “A few people have mentioned your reputation to me, Lord Yardley, and so it does become somewhat difficult to know what to believe.”

There was a moment’s pause and, much to her surprise, Lord Yardley hung his head. “I am truly sorry,” he mumbled, looking quite ashamed of himself. “I should have known that my past would catch up with me.”

Feeling terribly guilty for having raised the subject, Polly grasped his arm. “Please, don’t feel ashamed on my account,” she exclaimed, looking up earnestly into his eyes. “I must tell you now that I am doing all I can to ensure that not everyone believes that a man’s past must damage his future.”

“You are too good, Lady Polly.” Lord Yardley sighed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, they are quite right.”

A stone dropped into her stomach. “They are?”

“About my past, yes, indeed,” Lord Yardley declared, still not quite meeting her gaze. “I am a man who has struggled with a great many vices, a man who has allowed his foolish, youthful nature to become dragged into pleasures instead of facing up to my responsibilities. In fact, it is only once I met you, Lady Polly, that I began to think differently.”

Polly did not quite know what to say, though she felt somewhat flattered. “Until you met me?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed, catching her hand. “I should tell you now, Lady Polly, that I have completely turned my back on all of my old ways, determined to become a worthy and honorable gentleman. It does not surprise me that so many of your friends and relations look upon me with a great deal of suspicion. In fact, it does them credit to be so careful.”

Polly could not bring herself to agree, sighing as he smiled at her. “You are very good, Lord Yardley, to hear such criticism without becoming angry with me.”

“Ah, but I have nothing to hide from you, my dear,” he replied, firmly. “You should know everything about me, whether good or bad.”

“And why would that be?” Polly asked softly, looking up at him. “What is it about me that makes you feel such a way?”

Lord Yardley paused for a moment, looking all about him, before surreptitiously catching her hand. The crowd of guests was so fixed on the prospect of supper that they did not seem to notice their actions one bit. Most had joined an overly long line and the din of the room was growing in volume.

“Because,” Lord Yardley whispered, taking her hand into his, “because I feel such a strong, deep emotion for you, Lady Polly, that I feel as though I must bare my very soul toward you.”

Polly did not know what to say, struck dumb by such an intimate sentiment. He lifted her hand to his mouth, making a motion as though to press a kiss to the back of it. At the last minute, he turned her hand palm upwards, his lips touching her sensitive palm through her glove. Her breath caught.

“I intend to court you, Lady Polly,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling her hand. “I must speak to your father before any formal declaration takes place, of course, but I am making my intentions clear to you now.”

Polly’s hand burned with heat, his lips searing her. It was a gesture that spoke of a deep affection, a gesture she had never before experienced.

“Then may I suggest that you speak to him as soon as possible,” she managed to say, her voice shaking just a little. “I will not refuse you, Lord Yardley. I hope you know that.”

Something glittered in his eyes, something dangerous that had her stomach swirling with all manner of emotions.

“I am more than aware of that, Lady Polly,” he murmured, gently. “Come now, let us go in to supper.”