Polly found herself humming with delight as her maid, Lucy, came in to lay out her clothing for the evening’s festivities. It was to be a masquerade, which she found altogether thrilling.

“Oh Lucy, tonight should be such fun,” she said, as she held her mask up to her face. It went round her eyes, tying at the back of her head. Lucy promised she could integrate the ties into her hair style for the evening. The aquamarine and purple of the mask matched the ostrich plume that rose from it, and Polly thought she looked rather daring in it.

“Is it not so exciting, to be able to hide one’s true identity?” she asked, and Lucy gave her a smile. She had been with the family for years, her mother having served Marie. Polly and Lucy had practically grown up together, although Lucy, no doubt instructed by her mother, always ensured their friendship never became too close to cross any boundaries.

“I do not think that mask will fool anyone, Lady Polly,” Lucy said with a laugh. “Why, the blonde of your hair will be obvious to anyone who knows you, and just because your eyes are covered does not mean the rest of your face isn’t visible.”

Polly herself chuckled. “I suppose the point of masquerades are to feel as though you are hiding, to be given the possibility of acting not as you ought to but as you want to.”

“I suppose,” said Lucy with a bit of a shrug. “Though come the next day, everyone will know one another’s business anyway.”

“This is true,” said Polly, as she sat on the stool before the mirror and rested her chin on her fist. She met Lucy’s brown eyes in the mirror. “I have told Lord Yardley what I will be wearing, anyway,” she said with a bit of a whisper, and Lucy looked at her in surprise.

“Is he courting you now, then?” she asked.

“Officially, not yet,” Polly responded, “Although he said he will speak to Papa the moment he arrives in London, which should be rather soon as he has business to attend to. Oh, Lucy, Lord Yardley is such a handsome man, and so utterly charming. Why, even Mama is slowly beginning to like him!”

“She has had reason not to?” Lucy asked, a bit of concern touching her face.

“Oh, there have been some rumors of Lord Yardley’s past,” Polly said, disregarding them with a wave of her hand. “But that is all they are — idle gossip among those who have nothing better to do but speak poorly of others. Lord Yardley may have had an indiscretion or two in the past, ’tis true, but that doesn’t mean one cannot change his ways, does it?”

“I suppose not,” said Lucy, as she took up Polly’s comb and let down the tangle of blonde curls. “Although you best be careful, my lady.”

“Of course, Lucy,” Polly responded, though her thoughts had moved on to the evening at hand. “I always am.”

* * *

Sebastian was somewhat nervous as he knocked on the door of the Duke of Ware’s London townhouse. He knew it was rather odd to show up unannounced in the middle of the day, but he felt as if he had run out of options. He had tried confronting Yardley, had attempted to speak to Polly, and had also worked with his informants to try to determine when Yardley would try to win his bloody bet.

Unfortunately, Yardley was keeping his plans closely guarded. How callous could some men be? Yardley was willing to ruin a girl’s entire life simply for some coin and to further his own daring reputation.

The door was opened by a butler, who showed him into a decidedly female sitting room. The Duchess of Ware awaited him wearing a polite smile, but Sebastian knew she would have been preparing for the masquerade and was likely somewhat put out by the timing of his visit.

“Lord Taylor,” she said as he gave her a slight bow. “How lovely to see you. Please, sit,” she bade him, gesturing toward a seat on the sofa opposite her, but he noted she did not call for tea. Clearly, she expected this visit to be short, though he could see the curiosity in her gaze. Polly did not look much like the Duchess. She must take after her father’s side, Sebastian thought. He was pulled out of his reveries when the Duchess cleared her throat.

“Thank you for seeing me, Your Grace,” he began. “I know it is rather odd for me to call on you, particularly at this time of day and without your husband in residence.”

She said nothing, although she did not disagree with him.

“We have spoken before about Lord Yardley, who has continued to bestow his affections upon Lady Polly,” he said, looking at her to gauge her reaction. The woman was well practiced, however, and showed no reaction to his words.

“Yes,” she replied. “He has. And I do appreciate your thoughts on the gentleman, Lord Taylor, however I am beginning to believe that he may have come round and changed his ways.”

“I understand,” he said slowly, trying to determine the best way forward. “However, I have come upon information that leads me to believe that Lord Yardley would like to … add Polly to his list of conquests, if you will.”

“Conquests?”

Sebastian's eye twitched. He was not used to discussing such matters with a lady, particularly one like the Duchess of Ware, with her quick mind and practiced manner.

“Lord Yardley has made a bet with his friends that he can secure Polly’s affections,” he said.

“Oh, dear,” said the Duchess, as she sat quietly for a moment. “How can you be certain?”

“I overheard him discussing the matter.”

“I see. And what does he mean to do with those affections?”

“Do?”

“Yes. Is that not the point of courting? If he wins her affections, will he not then continue to court her, to marry her?”

“Well, I … I suppose that is the usual way of things,” Sebastian stammered. He knew very well that Yardley had no intention of doing such a thing, but he also had no proof of the situation, nor Yardley’s thoughts. “I do not believe that is his objective, however.”

The Duchess stood and began to walk about the room as she addressed him.

“I must admit, Lord Taylor, that I would have thought the same myself at one time, having heard of the man’s reputation,” she said. “However, in the past few weeks, I have come to know Lord Yardley rather well. He seems completely smitten with Polly, and his intentions do seem honorable.”

She stopped in front of him.

“I appreciate you coming here, Lord Taylor, I do. I know you are well acquainted with my son-in-law, and are simply looking out for the family. However, I have also noted your apparent interest in my daughter. I must ask you, Lord Taylor, have you come out of concern for Polly, or are you trying to rid yourself of a rival?”

Sebastian looked at her, aghast. He had never considered this to be an outcome of his visit. He knew there had been the chance she wouldn’t believe him, but not because she thought him interested in Polly himself.

“Not at all, Your Grace,” he said when he found himself finally able to reply. “That is, your daughter is very lovely and any gentleman would be fortunate to have her as a wife, but my intentions for warning you are noble. I simply want to ensure that the man does not ruin another young woman, your daughter in particular. Many discreet complaints have been brought against him by fathers of other ladies. They have simply not made it widely known, as to do so may further ruin their daughters.”

The Duchess frowned, and Sebastian could see the confusion etched on her face, until finally she forced a smile onto it.

“I do thank you for your concerns, Lord Taylor,” she said. “I will take them into consideration and provide Polly with the proper warning.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Sebastian said, as he rose with the Duchess, realizing there was no more he could say. “I do appreciate you taking my call.”

With that, he made his way out the door of the drawing room and was down the stairs when he heard a noise from above.

“Lord Taylor?” He heard his name once again, and he looked up to see a beautiful, curious face staring down at him. Half of Lady Polly’s hair was piled on top of her head, the rest spilled around her shoulders. Clearly, it was not finished, but he loved the look of it as loose and carefree as she was.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, a questioning look on her face as she slowly descended the staircase until coming to a stop on the second bottom step so that their faces were level.

“I had a matter to speak with your mother about.”

“My mother?” Her nose scrunched up in perplexity. “That is rather odd.”

“That may be,” he said. “But it is the truth.”

He could have told her the reason he was here, but he knew to do so again would only cause her to put more defenses up against his words. He had tried speaking to her, but she was looking through the lens of a woman who thought herself to be in love, and that was something he could not change.

“I believe I shall be seeing you tonight at the Duke of Stowe’s masquerade,” he said, donning his hat once more.

“Ah … yes,” she responded. “Though you will hardly know who I am, now will you?”

“Ah, Lady Polly,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “You do not know me well at all. I love a good mystery.”

* * *

“Mama!” Polly hurried down the hall to her mother’s chamber. She was rather confused by Lord Taylor’s visit and his words to her, not to mention the thrill she had felt upon seeing him. What was that about? Was she not to have such feelings only for Lord Yardley?

“Oh Mama, you look lovely,” Polly said, coming to a stop at the door of her mother’s rooms and admiring the beautiful blue silk that hugged her figure where it best suited her.

“Thank you, darling,” her mother replied, then bade her to enter.

“Mama, whatever was Lord Taylor doing here? And why did he want to speak with you?”

“Can a gentleman not call in the middle of the day wanting to speak to your mother?

“He can, but I will find it rather strange.”

Marie laughed then turned to face her. “It was nothing. Simply a message for me to try to provide to your brother-in-law as Lord Taylor is having a hard time in reaching him.”

“How can that be?” Polly asked. “I received a note from Violet only yesterday.” She paused a beat, realizing what Lord Taylor’s true purpose must have been. “He was here about Yardley, wasn’t he? Oh, I wish he would just leave it alone!”

“Well, perhaps he does have a bit of a point,” said Marie. “You must be careful with Lord Yardley, Polly. I know he is rather dashing, and he does come from a good family, but still, oft’times when there are rumors there is some truth to them.”

“He has admitted as such, Mama, but do you not believe a man can change, especially when he meets a woman he truly cares for?” Polly asked.

Marie raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you are right, Polly,” she said, though somewhat reluctantly. “A man can change.”

She turned back to the mirror to view the progress her maid was making with her hair. Polly knew she was attempting to cleverly hide the few strands of gray that were beginning to course through her dark locks. As Marie looked at them worriedly, Polly came up behind her.

“Don’t worry about those, Mama,” she said, swooping down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You are beautiful just the way you are.”

“Ah, sweet girl,” said Marie. “Now, scoot. We have only a few short hours and you must be ready.”

“All right!” Polly said with a laugh, and took off back down the hall, eager to don the dress that made her feel like a princess at her coronation ball.