Lady Polly
Even as Lady Polly rejected another proposal of marriage, her heart burned for the man she'd rejected five years ago.She'd heard that in his misery, her beloved Lord Henry Marchnight had become a rogue and a gambler. But when he appeared before her on a deserted terrace and stole a kiss, Polly knew that her passion hadn't died. The man still knew how to steal her reason with one touch.But reason she needed as suspicions of criminal behavior hovered about Lord Henry. Should she return to her routine of spurning suitors? Or should she do what she should have done five years ago–trust her love and follow her heart…?
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Lord Henry made a slight, dismissive gesture
“What could a rake wish for from a lady on a providentially empty terrace?”
“Oh!”
Understanding came to Polly at the very last moment. She had once quite ached for Lord Henry to kiss her as long as it had been in a completely undemanding fashion. Some chaste but impassioned salutation had been the height of her aspirations.
This kiss might have been impassioned, but in no way could it be described as chaste. Lord Henry brought her into sudden, shocking contact with his body. His mouth captured hers with the ruthless skill of the expert, parting her lips so that her gasp was lost.
Lady Polly
Harlequin Historical
Harlequin Historicals is delighted to present author Nicola Cornick and her sparkling Regency
LADY POLLY
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Nicola Cornick
Nicola Cornick is passionate about many things: her country cottage and its garden, her two small cats, her husband and her writing, though not necessarily in that order! She has always been fascinated by history, both as her chosen subject at university and subsequently as an engrossing hobby. She works as university administrator and finds her writing the perfect antidote to the demands of life in a busy office.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Prologue
1812
“You’re a damned fool, Henry!” Simon Verey leant on the table and addressed his friend in tones that would have led Henry Marchnight to call him out under any other circumstances. “Leave it a few weeks—a month, even—for everyone to lose interest in Miss Jacques’s vicious rumours! If you go to Lady Paulersbury’s rout tonight, they’ll make mincemeat of you!”
Lord Henry’s only response was a rather lop-sided grin as he tilted his head to consider the intricate folds of his violet cravat in the mirror.
“The Napoleon,” he mused. “Rather a neat style, don’t you think, Simon? Languishing and romantic, as is appropriate for this evening! Do you think that it will bring me the luck of the French?”
“In love or in war?” Verey asked drily.
Lord Henry’s only reply was another smile. “I regret that I cannot take your advice, Simon,” he continued. “I must see Lady Polly Seagrave tonight. I am hoping that I may still persuade her to consent to be my wife.”
Verey’s lips tightened. He had seen that reckless look in his friend’s grey eyes before and knew it promised trouble. There was something both tense and watchful about Lord Henry’s elegantly clad form, some element held under the barest control. And Verey understood his desperation, but he thought Henry had miscalculated.
“They’ll never let you near her,” he prophesied grimly. “Good God, the whole Town thinks that you have tried to debauch Miss Jacques, then proposed marriage to Lady Polly for her fortune only a day later! You’ll be ripped to pieces, Henry!”
Lord Henry shrugged. “Lady Polly would never believe such a thing of me, Simon. I know she would have accepted my suit had the Earl not refused to countenance it!”
Verey shook his head. What madness could have possessed Lord Henry to ask the starchy old Earl of Seagrave for his daughter’s hand in marriage whilst such unsavoury, albeit untrue, rumours were being circulated? He must have known that the Earl was so high in the instep that he would never sanction a match between his only daughter and a man who had been branded a philanderer and deceiver.
With its usual appetite for scandal, Society had been quick to seize upon the accusations of Miss Sally Jacques that Henry Marchnight had promised her marriage and then attempted to seduce her. Verey knew that Miss Jacques was the daughter of a Cit who had attempted to establish herself amongst the ton and whose disappointment at being unable to bring Henry up to scratch had led to this ill-considered revenge. Verey also knew that most of Society thought Miss Jacques an ill-bred mushroom and that interest in the story would wane very swiftly. If only Henry had exercised his usual cool detachment! But in his very real passion for Lady Polly Seagrave he seemed uncharacteristically hasty, unable to wait even a few days for matters to cool. Simon was prepared to support his friend, but he was certain that the evening would be deeply unenjoyable.
Their reception at Lady Paulersbury’s was everything Verey had predicted and worse. Silence fell as Lord Henry Marchnight was announced. Men whom he had counted his friends pointedly turned their backs. Some women whispered maliciously behind their fans, whilst others drew aside from him with disgusted expressions. There was a moment when Lord Henry was certain Lord Paulersbury was about to have him horsewhipped from the house before his wife’s more temperate counsel prevailed. But he was treated as a social pariah, ignored or ridiculed, and it was a profoundly unpleasant and uncomfortable experience.
