"Did your aunt not tell you? I shall be returning to Whitchurch at once. Mama and I shall pack as soon as we return."
"Then you accepted Lord Hyatt! Congratulations! But could you not be married in London? Who will go with me to all the balls and parties if you leave?"
"Accepted Hyatt!" her mother and Hettie exclaimed in unison. "Laura, you never mean you got an offer from Hyatt!" her mother gasped. Hettie directed a narrow-eyed, measuring stare on Laura.
"He did offer, Mama. I declined," Laura said.
"Are you mad?" her mother asked.
"Don't urge the match on her," Hettie said. "Hyatt is not quite the thing. He was carrying on with that Devereau woman last night. I had it of Mrs. Campbell and felt obliged to inform Laura."
"What a pity!" Mrs. Harwood said, wishing Hettie had kept her gossip to herself. Hyatt was too good a parti to shuck off without at least attempting to reform him. "But that is no reason to go tearing off home, Laura. There is still plenty of time. You may nab someone else."
"Yes, why don't you stay, Laura?" Hettie said.
It was an olive branch. Laura realized that her mother was unaware of their argument. That being the case, it would look very odd for her to insist on going home. Yet to continue the round of balls and parties seemed not only pointless but a torment.
"I think you were insane to refuse Hyatt," Olivia said. But she soon reverted to more interesting matters, such as Simpson's rout that evening. She would see John there, and they would skip off to the Pantheon masquerade. She knew now that it was unexceptionable for her to go. Laura would go herself, if she had the chance. The older ladies felt they had to recommend caution, but that did not prevent them from doing whatever they wished. Why should she miss out on the treats, when this was the only Season she would ever have?
It was a long, tedious drive home, with people gathering by the roadside at every village to gawk at the Turtle, and the cavalcade forming behind it. The groom adapted the kindly idea of pulling into a side road at each town to let the other carriages past, which delayed the slow crawl of the Turtle even further. With a stop for lunch, afternoon was well along by the time they reached London. Hettie Traemore was not the only one who was ready for a nice cup of tea and a little lie-down.
Laura felt as if she had been beaten with clubs. She ached all over, and to complete her misery, she had agreed to accompany Olivia to the Simpson's rout. Well, that was why she was here. She could hardly remain in London if she abandoned her duties. Despite her misery, she had no real desire to dash home to Whitchurch. Staying was bound to throw her in touch with Hyatt, and she was curious to see how he behaved.
After a careful consideration of her position, she decided that she would behave exactly as she used to vis-a-vis Hyatt, before the lamentable party at Castlefield. She would treat him as a friendly acquaintance, no more, no less. If she cut him, people would begin to ask questions. Word of the affair at Castlefield might seep out. She had every hope of keeping it quiet. Her mother, Hettie, and Olivia were the only ones who knew she had received an offer. Only Olivia knew the whole of it, and she was proving uncharacteristically discreet.
Before dinner, the baroness went to Lord Montford's attics to root through his trunks for a mask. John had got her a domino and a plain blue mask. She wanted a finer mask, preferably one fashioned of egret feathers. Lord Montford's trunks held no egret feathers, but she chanced upon a peacock fan, which was even better. With the fan concealed under her skirt, she went to her room and spoke to Fanny.
"We have to make a mask out of this," she said.
"What do you want a mask for? I wager this is Miss Harwood's idea, to hide your pretty face. I don't know why you pay any attention to that harpy."
"This has nothing to do with Laura. In fact, you must not mention it to her. Ask no questions, Fanny. Just do as I say."
Fanny examined the large fan. She was a wizard with the needle, but this challenged even her ingenuity. After several attempts she had separated the feathers and reassembled them into something resembling a mask. She bent the feathers in such a manner that two eye holes were achieved, tacked them in place, and added an elastic band to go around the head. It was not quite the thing of beauty Olivia had been envisaging, but she was in such high spirits that she kissed Fanny and told her she did not know what she would do without her, which was all the reward Fanny ever wanted, or ever got.
Mr. Meadows called immediately after dinner to welcome the ladies home. When he learned their evening's destination, he added himself to the party. He listened eagerly to hear whether Talman had come up to scratch. When nothing was said, he assumed he had not. Later, to his boundless relief, Laura confirmed it.
After all Olivia's trouble with the mask, John Yarrow did not attend Simpson's rout. He sent a billet-doux with another fellow, who slipped it to Olivia during a country dance. She read it as soon as she could get away. John had stayed over a few days in the country. His host had got up a horse race, and naturally Olivia would not want him to miss that. He was desperately mad to see her again and would certainly be back by Wednesday, and if not Wednesday, Friday for sure, for he would die if she took up with some other fellow.
On four successive evenings the peacock fan was tacked to Olivia's underskirt. It was much too big to fit into her reticule. From its place of concealment, it attended two routs, a ball, and the opening of a new play at Covent Garden, usually in company with Mr. Meadows, who was tolerated, but could not feel he was advancing his suit an inch. Olivia grew impatient with her absent lover. Finally impatience gave way to fear that she had lost him. The country host might have a sister; certainly he would have female neighbors. If John ever came back, she was ready to not only go to the Pantheon, but to dart to Gretna Green or the Outer Hebrides or Africa with him, if that was what he wanted.
Lord Rodney and Lord Rufus were brought to call at Charles Street, where they found it hard to believe that this listless creature had cut such interesting capers at Castlefield. All a take-in, by Jove. They wouldn't have the baroness if she came with a gold mine. The Turtle seemed the proper vehicle for this slow top. Their only question was why Talman hadn't nabbed her himself, since she was just the dull sort of lady he favored.
Laura Harwood also spent an enervating week. On two occasions she had the opportunity of being civil to Hyatt, who was so polite in return that she feared he was making fun of her. He bowed once from across the room, just before he asked Lady Debora Holmes to waltz with him. On the other occasion, they actually exchanged words.
"Are you enjoying the Season, Miss Harwood?" he enquired, when he met her at the refreshment table at Mrs. Esmond's ball.
"Very much, thank you," she replied. "And you?"
"I usually manage to enjoy myself," he said. When this was analyzed for the ninth or tenth time, Laura found it to be egotistical. He 'managed' not to be bored, when he was the center of attention everywhere. How very obliging of him.
It was at the play at Covent Garden that the final blow fell on Laura's ill-fated romance. Lady Meaford, who had remained a friend since the weekend at Castlefield, stopped at their box during the first intermission.
"Have you heard the latest on-dit? This might interest you, Miss Harwood, since you are a friend of Hyatt."
Laura's heart hammered mercilessly. She was going to hear that he was engaged-that he had offered for Lady Debora. She willed herself to show no more than polite curiosity. "What is that, Lady Meaford?"
"I hear Lady Devereau got her portrait from Hyatt after all," she said. "She has removed it from Somerset House. I wager that is why she stormed into the duchess's rout that night. She will never take no for an answer, that one. I wonder how she convinced him to give it up." Her knowing little smile suggested what means Marie Devereau would naturally employ, and what would convince Hyatt.