Lady Polly

Lady Polly
Nicola Cornick

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…?

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.