Olivia flushed in pleasure and said, "Cousin Laura had her hair done as well."
"Very nice," he said dutifully, but Olivia noticed where his praise was first delivered and felt Laura did not have Mr. Meadow so firmly in her grasp as she thought.
Meadows was now treated like an old friend at Charles Street. He was to take the young ladies for a drive in the park and return for tea.
The new carriage was a bottle-green landau, with a split top that could be let down on sunny days or put up if the weather was inclement. The squabs were of the requisite velvet, and the trappings of gilt. Olivia fell in love with it on sight. The only objection was the softness of the seat backs.
"It's lovely!" she squealed. "How clever you are, Mr. Meadows, to find exactly what I want."
"Actually, it was Miss Harwood who suggested one like Lady Sifton's."
"But you found it. Auntie will have to use her recliner," she said, dismissing that problem. She did not bother to inquire for its cost, and when Mr. Meadows told her, she hardly listened.
"I must have it. Are the team for sale, too? I do think the grays go uncommonly well with green. Much better than my carriage team. They are part draft horse. The berlin is very heavy."
"I borrowed the team from a chap I know. Warner is in dun territory and is selling his prads at a bargain price."
"Come in and Auntie will write the checks. Now all that remains is for you to find me a mount, and I shan't bother you any further."
"Why, have you forgotten I am to take you to Astley's Circus and to Exeter Exchange? I hope you will let me accompany you on your rides as well," he said, with pleasing promptness.
"We should be happy for your company, eh, Laura?"
"I must hire a mount," Laura said, with very little interest. She liked country riding, but jogging along at a walk in Rotten Row had no interest for her. "Or if Mr. Meadows is to accompany you, then perhaps…"
"No need to hire one," he said. "My aunt would be happy for you to use hers, if you care to join us one day."
During the drive to Hyde Park, Olivia rejoiced at the felicity of her footmen's livery matching her new carriage, for the Pilmore footmen had worn green forever. It was her own favorite color. Did Laura not think her green suit with the brass buttons an excellent match for the carriage as well? Laura did not think the grass green of livery and that particular suit the best match for a bottle green carriage, but before she could reply, Meadows fired off a barrage of praise, so she said nothing.
His approval of the green livery finally confirmed Laura's growing suspicion that Mr. Meadows intended to attach Olivia. That halfhearted mention of her, Laura's, joining them for a ride 'one day' had pretty well told the story. He wanted to be alone with Olivia.
Laura wondered how she could ever have mistaken his friendliness as a compliment to herself. What a ninny she was to think Meadows, who had always held himself pretty high, should suddenly be interested in her. Of course it was the baroness in whom they were all interested. She must not make that mistake again. Her head had been turned by Monsieur LaPierre's praise, but meaningless compliments were part of a coiffeur's stock and trade.
As the other two chatted, with more flirtation than common sense in their talk, Laura reviewed Hettie Traemore's requirements for a husband for Livvie: 'a nice, sound, sensible fellow who will be content to return to Cornwall and not want to be jauntering off to London every season. We don't want Livvie to abandon her estate. He must have a good head for business-the mine is a great deal of work.'
Meadows seemed a good candidate. He had a small estate of his own, nothing to compare with Olivia's. He would not balk at removing to Cornwall, where he would be set up as the most important gentleman in the neighborhood. There was no point thinking any of the more illustrious peers would be so obliging in that respect. They had their own affairs to tend to and would certainly plan to spend much time in London. To put the cap on the match, Olivia seemed very fond of Meadows. The attraction went back to their first meeting. She had assumed Olivia would make a grander match, but as her cousin required neither money, an estate, nor a title, she could marry where she wished.
Laura mentally released Mr. Meadows with scarcely a wisp of regret. She must be sure to let Olivia know that Meadows had never been more than a friend to herself. They toured the park once, then got out to stroll in the sunlight. It was one of those fine spring days, warmer than summer, with hardly a breeze stirring the branches. Laura had a sense that Meadows had chosen one particular spot to descend. He suggested they alight at the northeast corner, despite a confusion of carriages there. Once they began walking, he seemed to be looking around for someone.
Before long, he exclaimed in a voice of simulated surprise, "Why, there is Lord Hyatt! You remember we met him at Somerset House yesterday, Baroness?" Most of his comments either began or ended with the word 'baroness.' Laura felt she had been reduced to a chaperone and resented it.
Hyatt came smiling forward, removing his hat to bow to the ladies. The sun struck his wheat-blond hair, giving him a halo. Yet, despite the halo, he bore no resemblance to a saint. There was mischief on his handsome face and dancing in his dark eyes. Oh yes, this meeting had definitely been arranged, and she was highly curious to discover why.
"Baroness," he smiled, then turned to Laura. "And Miss-"
"Harwood," Meadows supplied.
As Hyatt's attention had turned to the baroness, Laura did not even honor him with a curtsy, but only nodded.
Meadows relinquished Olivia to Lord Hyatt and fell into step with Laura behind as they all strolled through the park. "Did you arrange to meet Lord Hyatt here?" Laura asked.
"I left a note at his house suggesting it. He was not home. I was not sure he would come."
"What was the reason for that, Mr. Meadows? I cannot think it wise to be setting up a rendezvous with such a man."
"You'll see," he said mysteriously.
She gave up chiding him and listened to Olivia and Hyatt instead. The rake's conversation did not sound objectionable.
"I understand you come all the way from Cornwall?" Hyatt was saying. "That is a long trip. I hope you have a comfortable carriage."
"Indeed, yes. Papa bought a berlin some years ago. It is the most comfortable rig you have ever seen."
Laura soon got a definite sense that Hyatt was egging her on. He inquired for the team and said, "Six horses! It must be a big carriage. I wonder that anyone could pass you on the road.”
"They couldn't," she said simply.
He laughed. "I know it well, for I was stuck behind you for ten miles on my way back from Hyatt Hall, in Kent, cursing you roundly for that sluggish Turtle shell you inhabit.”
"Oh, you were teasing, Lord Hyatt! But you will not be held up by me again. I have got a lovely new landau this very day."
"Then the cartoon in the shop windows must be changed."
"What do you mean?" she asked, and he explained, ending with, "It is a great compliment, you must know."
"You mean there is a picture of me in a shop window?" she exclaimed. "How exciting! I must see it. Whoever would have thought-and I didn't think I would make a dent in society."
"You will bowl it over, I promise you."
"I don't suppose there will be many ladies as rustic as I am," she said. "But really a cartoon is no compliment. More like an insult. Do I look horrid?"
He studied her a moment and said, "Now that I have had the opportunity of seeing you more closely, I cannot say it is a flattering likeness. But then I, as an artist, appreciate the impossibility of capturing such liveliness on paper. It is no insult, I promise you. You are in excellent company, flanked by the Prince Regent on one side and our Prime Minister on the other."
"Why, I am practically famous!" she laughed, and turned to relate this marvel to Laura, who had already heard the story from Mr. Meadows.