"I expect you are eager to get back to Castlefield," she said. "I am all finished. What a lovely selection of stockings they had there."
"We have not seen the church."
She glanced to the end of the street, where the spire of an old stone church rose into the sky. "There it is. We can see it quite well from here."
"We shall examine the interior," he said, to punish her.
Olivia gave a bored sigh. "What for? If you want to remain in the village, let us have a cup of tea." She took his arm and drew him forward. He went without argument, but he did not intend to treat her to tea. The church was beyond the tea shop.
As they drew near the tea shop, the door opened and Yarrow came catapulting out. Olivia saw him and gave a little squeal of pleasure.
"Well, by Jove, if it ain't Olivia!" Yarrow exclaimed, in a very poor simulation of surprise. He bowed to her and Hyatt.
"I had no idea you were visiting Mr. Jantzen," Olivia said, thus revealing her close familiarity with his doings.
"Just dropped down for the weekend. Boxing match, you know. I am surprised you ain't in the drapery shop, Olivia." He cast a guilty glance at Hyatt and added, "The ladies, you know. Always like to have a rifle through the goods in every shop."
"I have already been there," she said, narrowing her eyes in a meaningful way. "Buying stockings. I looked through the threads and things, but I only bought stockings."
"Just so. The stockings. Well, it was jolly nice chatting with you. See you back in town next week, I expect?"
"Certainly," Olivia said. "We leave Monday morning. Only two more days," she added, as though she were incarcerated, and not being entertained in the most lavish home in the country.
Yarrow made an awkward, exaggerated bow and strutted on to the drapery shop, where he had soon found his billet-doux nestled among the silk stockings.
Afternoon, between three and four. Mole River, bridge, willow trees. Couldn't miss it. He pocketed the note and sauntered forth, smiling.
Lord Hyatt kept the baroness at the church for half an hour, at which time his own patience gave out and he took her back to Castlefield. Her lively spirits left him in no doubt that she had hoodwinked him. Left a note at the stocking counter, very likely, but there was no point charging her with it. The hussy lied as naturally as a dog scratched his fleas.
The tour was just finishing when he reached Castlefield. He met Laura and went out to the garden for a private word with her. "Yarrow was there," he said. "I did my best, but from her smug smiles, I fear she outwitted me." He gave her a lively rendition of his morning.
"What a wretched imposition to saddle you with her. I should have gone. But the tour was fascinating. Did you know not less than three monarchs have slept in the Royal Suite?"
"I know it well. If they slept on the mattress that is presently there, they had a deuced uncomfortable night. About the baroness-when do you figure she plans to make her break?"
"She is riding with Talman this afternoon, and there is the rout party tonight. The rout party is the more likely time, don't you think? Or perhaps tomorrow.”
"Yes, but if she comes down with an attack of vapors this afternoon and cancels her ride, you had best put a lock on her door and a guard beneath her window."
She shook her head in vexation. "It is enough to put a person off marriage, to see what a nuisance children are."
He smiled bemusedly, to see her so concerned. "I doubt you were ever a moment's trouble to anyone. Children usually take after their parents, you know, so you should not have to worry. Yours will be quiet and well behaved. The Hyatt youngsters, of course, will be a different matter."
"Oh, but I would not want my children to be as dull as I!"
"I said quiet, not dull. If you must be throwing my words back at me, Laura, at least be accurate."
He took her arm and began walking along the path. "Now if only we could think of some manner of taming my brood and enlivening yours."
"There, you see! You said enliven! You do think I am dull."
"We are discussing your hypothetical children. If you married a dull man, they might be dull."
"What makes you think I would marry a dull man?"
He stopped and looked at her with a quizzing smile. "What made me think you were quiet. You are turning into a harpy. What I was trying to say is-what was I trying to say?"
She resumed walking. "I expect you were saying that I should marry someone lively, and you should marry a dullard. Why, if I didn't know better, I might take it for a proposal," she said, and laughed. Her easy joke showed Hyatt that this notion had never occurred to her.
"I did not call you a dullard!"
"Well, you meant it," she said.
Again he stopped walking and peered down at her. "Is this our first argument, my dear?"
She reviewed their acquaintance and replied, "I believe it is."
"Good. We would not want things to be too quiet."
The lunch bell sounded from the door. "Just when we were getting to know each other." Hyatt tsked. "One never really knows another person until they have shared a good argument."
"That was not a good argument. It was hardly even a disagreement."
His reckless smile peeped out. "Then you agree you are dull."
"I will admit that I am usually quiet, but if you think I will stand still for-"
"It was a joke! And you knew it all along, shrew."
"Upon my word, I don't see why you are taking your ill temper with Olivia out on me. I am not the one who outwitted you with my pranks. You have called me a dullard and a shrew, and as well as said I have poor taste in gentlemen!"
"No, no! I acquit you of the last charge. I think you are coming to appreciate me, now that we have enjoyed our first spat."
He turned her around and escorted her to the dining room. Laura's head was in such a whirl that she wasn't sure she understood his meaning. As soon as she caught a glimpse of Olivia, she forgot everything else. She knew that satisfied smile. The chit had certainly arranged to meet Yarrow, and she must be on her toes to prevent it.
Chapter Fourteen
Lunch was successful, and as the baroness was safely disposed with Talman for the afternoon, Laura agreed to sit for Hyatt in the garden. It was not to be a formal painting, but only a pencil sketch, done by the fountain, with a wide-brimmed bonnet to protect her from the sun.
"I shall be soaking wet by the time you finish," she scolded. "The spray is drenching me." This was a gross exaggeration. Actually, she enjoyed the cooling breeze, which carried a refreshing moisture in it.
"It will give your hair a curl."
"Now you are deriding my coiffeur. If I am not careful, I shall end up in your gallery of social misfits. I notice I do not merit an oil painting."
"They are frippery stuff. I really prefer my engravings. Perhaps I shall have this engraved."
They bickered and flirted and enjoyed a lovely afternoon. Guests stopped from time to time to watch Hyatt at work. He could hardly ask two Cabinet ministers' wives and a marchioness to leave, but they were well bred enough to keep their comments to a polite minimum. At four-thirty he set down his pencil.
"You can see it now, if you wish," he said.
Laura hopped up and went to examine his sketch. "Oh, it's lovely!" she exclaimed. "I wish I were as pretty as that."
It was lovely, too, but not in the exaggerated manner of his society paintings. He had caught her with a particularly sweet smile, one she didn't know she possessed. She looked all soft and warm, as if she were in love. The knowledge of what caused it brought a flush to her cheeks.
"With my compliments," he said, handing it to her.
"Would you mind signing it?" she said. His pencil sketched a tall, bold H, followed by a squiggle, and the date. Then he turned the paper over and wrote something on the back.
He was just handing it back to her when Talman came pelting forward. "Is the baroness not with you?" he asked.
Olivia and Hyatt exchanged a shocked look. "We thought she was with you," Laura said.