Polly and the Prince Read Online Free Page A

true?”
    “Almost.” Kolya was sitting patiently on a stool under the skylight Captain Howard had had set in the roof when he came home and found his daughter seriously interested in painting. “It happened to friend, not to me. When wolves chased me, I was not so brave. I hid up tree.”
    “I cannot tell whether to believe you or not.”
    A cry of anguish rang up the stairs. “Polly! Polly!”
    “What is it, Mama? I cannot come just now.” She was preparing the colour for Kolya’s hair and she had it almost right. Just a tiny spot more of the yellow ochre—once she had a sample on a scrap of canvas she could match it when she came to paint the portrait, when he was gone. Mrs. Howard’s footsteps were heard pattering up the stairs to the attic at a rapid pace. She trotted in, slightly out of breath.
    “Polly! You never posted the letter to Ned. Ella moved your chest of drawers to sweep underneath and she found it lying there. You drew a picture on it!”
    “Oh, yes, I remember. The sealing wax looked like a rose so I drew some leaves around it. My window was open so it must have blown onto the floor while I was putting on my bonnet, and I forgot it. I’m sorry, Mama. Kolya, sit down, pray. The light changes when you stand.”
    He had politely risen when Mrs. Howard entered, and he was buttoning his shirt. Art outweighing embarrassment, Polly had had him open it at the throat to display his icon.
    Her mother was far too agitated to notice this impropriety. “How can you be so calm? What are we to do if Ned does not come today? The tenants are moving in tomorrow, and even if they can be put off, the carter has taken everything but what we need for one night. Oh Polly, how could you?”
    “But it was only a confirmation, was it not? Ned himself set the date in the first place. You can rely on Ned.”
    “Ma?” The house shook as Nick thundered up the stairs. “There you are. What else is there to eat?”
    “Nothing beyond your brother’s dinner, though I daresay he will not be here to eat it. And do not call me Ma in that odiously vulgar way.”
    “I beg your pardon, Mother dear, but you keep calling me Nicky and I’ve asked you not to a thousand times. Polly, did you know that Kolya’s real name is Nikolai, which is the Russian for Nicholas? Is it not famous?”
    “Famous,” said his sister dryly, testing the colour she had mixed. “I suppose you will next want us to call you Kolya.”
    “Lord no, Nick will do. Mother, I’m starving. When’s dinner-time?”
    “When Ned arrives, if he does.” Mrs. Howard cast a reproachful glance at Polly. “Polly, you have paint on your chin.”
    She dabbed at her chin with a corner of her smock. “I shall wash it off later.”
    “But I can’t wait,” Nick insisted.
    “I’m sure Ned never had such an appetite at your age. You will have to go down to the shops and buy something to eat now and some extra eggs for breakfast.”
    “Ho, not I. Marketing is for females.”
    Kolya laughed. “Is plain to see you do not understand meaning of ‘starving,’ Master Nicholas. I will go to shops for madame, if she wishes, as soon as Miss Howard is finished.”
    “Oh, if you are going, I’ll go, too,” said Nick at once. “How long are you going to be, Poll?”
    “Ten minutes. The best of the light is nearly gone and I have everything I need.” She thinned the mixture of pigments on her palette with a drop of turpentine and tested the colour again.
    The aromatic odour reminded her all too clearly of the moment when she had made Kolya’s acquaintance by falling into his arms. His gentle strength, his kindness, his willingness to help, and his lively sense of humour, all added up to a man who was far too attractive for comfort. It was just as well that tomorrow he would be on his way. She did not even know for what dastardly deed he had been exiled, she reminded herself.
    She looked up to find that her mother and Nick had gone. If Mama knew how she felt, she would