The Barefoot Baroness

Chapter Thirteen

Olivia and Laura were up at eight the next morning after their early retirement. The butler directed them to the morning parlor, where an array of covered dishes on the sideboard awaited the early risers. Lord Talman and Hyatt soon joined them. The informal seating at the nearly empty table allowed the gentlemen to sit where they wished. Talman hastened to a chair beside Olivia, and Hyatt sat across from Laura.

After the requisite compliments on the ladies' fresh appearance, Talman said, "By the by, we shall have to put off our visit to the church at Gatwick till this afternoon, Baroness. The guests want a tour of the house this morning. I think you might enjoy it, too."

Olivia ignored the mention of the church. It was the timing that threw her into a pelter. "You must know the house by heart, and I shan't mind missing the tour. Really, it is not my sort of thing at all."

Talman's jaw dropped, but he was too polite to verbalize his shock. "I conduct the tour when I am home. Mama is no longer well enough to climb all the stairs, and the servants aren't familiar with all the features of interest."

"But you said we would go to Gatwick this morning," she pouted.

"We can go this afternoon as well."

"I want to ride this afternoon."

"There is no problem here. Ride this morning instead. I shall arrange for someone to accompany you," Talman said, displeased at her persistence. "Hyatt, perhaps you would accompany the baroness on a ride this morning."

"It would be a pleasure," Hyatt said.

Laura detected a thinning of his lips that belied the words, and she blushed for her cousin. "This is nonsense, putting everyone out," she said firmly. "We shall tour the house this morning and go to the village this afternoon, Olivia."

Olivia tossed her impertinent shoulders. "You must tour the house by all means, cousin. As Lord Hyatt wants to accompany me, we shall go to Gatwick."

"I thought it was settled we were going there this afternoon," Talman said in confusion.

"Oh no, I shall ride this afternoon," Olivia smiled, content now that she had her own way.

Talman, by no means afflicted with modesty, soon figured out that the baroness chose to visit the village that morning to be free to ride with him in the afternoon. He would have preferred that she accompany the tour in the morning but soon concluded that she required something from the village.

"What time would you like to go to Gatwick, Baroness?" Hyatt asked.

"I should like to be there by ten," she said, mentioning the hour for her assignation at the drapery shop with John Yarrow. He was to linger among the thread and buttons until she arrived. "Before it is too hot, you know," she added, to give it an air of casualness.

"Will you come with us, Laura?" Hyatt asked. She read the pleading in his eyes and was strongly tempted to say yes. On the other hand, Olivia had been so rude to Talman that she did not want to further slight him by preferring a visit to Gatwick to a tour of Castlefield. She did want to take a tour of the famous house for its own sake as well.

Talman looked at her expectantly. "I am eager to explore Castlefield," she said, with an apologetic smile at Hyatt.

"It is well worth seeing," Hyatt said, glancing hopefully to the baroness, who ignored him.

Other guests began arriving, and the group remained at the table, talking and drinking coffee, until nine o'clock.

Olivia, whose only interest was to escape, said primly, "I shall go and visit with Aunt Hettie before going to Gatwick. She always takes her morning toast and tea in bed. Her back is the worst in the morning."

Talman, who would have liked the hour alone with her, could hardly object to this errand, and he accompanied her to the bottom of the stairs.

Hyatt said, "What would you like to do, Laura? We have a whole half hour before I dash off to Gatwick."

They strolled out into a walled garden at the side of the house. "Do you mind going with Olivia?" she asked.

He crossed his fingers in plain view and said, "I am charmed. I could say that without lying if you were coming with us. But you ought to see Castlefield. I wonder why the baroness has no interest in her future home. This, I collect, is a courting visit?"

"Only on Lord Talman's side, I fear. The girl is certainly up to something. Why does she insist on Gatwick, when Crawley is larger, and closer?"

"And why ten o'clock? It sounds like an assignation. Who could she be meeting?"

"Mr. Yarrow," Laura said with a tsk of annoyance. "If you see his yellow curricle, steer her away."

"Easy as steering a whirlwind."

Laura gave a commiserating smile. "I really should go with you," she said.

"No, stay and enjoy the tour. I shall make sure she gets home undamaged."

"It is very kind of you."

"Your thanks is my reward. You will enjoy the tour, I think. The Peacock Room is one of the points of interest," he said, and continued with a few anecdotes and historical facts about the house.

Soon it was time for him to meet Olivia. Laura went to alert her mother to the tour, and for the next two hours forgot all about Olivia Pilmore, as she was guided from one splendor to another, gaping and gasping with admiration, and eventually fatigue, for it was a very large house.

Lord Hyatt spent a less enjoyable morning. The baroness's idea of conversation was to laugh at the quaint carriages and farmers they passed on the road, and to tell him at every picturesque view that he ought to paint it. It was ten o'clock when they entered the village. Hyatt looked sharply about for a yellow curricle but saw none.

"The church is just at the end of the High Street," he said, as she had mentioned the church. Really, there was not a deal to amuse a lady in the village.

"Lovely, but first I must just dash into the drapery shop and buy a-some new silk stockings," she invented. "Mine have got a hole in the toe."

Her artless excuse did not deceive Hyatt for a moment. "I'll go with you," he said, and drew to a stop in front of the shop.

"You will not want to waste your time dawdling about in here. Why do you not run along and have a look at the church? It will save time."

So much for her eagerness to view the church. "I need some buttons," he said, and dismounted. A boy darted forward to grab the reins.

Olivia looked up and down the street. John's curricle was not in evidence, but she had no doubt he was inside, waiting for her. "What sort of buttons do you need? I'll get them for you-my gift, Lord Hyatt."

"You are too kind, but I always select my own buttons."

This was impossible. It was by the buttons and ribbons that she was to meet John. Hyatt would certainly recognize him and tell Laura. Olivia was temporarily bereft of inspiration but hoped John would have the wits to hide behind the ells of muslin when he saw Hyatt. She peered to the back of the shop but saw no sign of him.

"I feel dreadfully weak, Lord Hyatt," she said. "I wonder if you would mind darting across to the chemist's shop and getting me some hartshorn."

"The clerk here will have some," he replied, with a sapient look, and held her by the elbow, forcing her to accompany him while he spoke to the clerk.

"The lady is feeling faint. Could she have a glass of water, please?" he said.

The clerk was happy to oblige such exalted clients, and darted off for the water. Olivia fanned herself with her handkerchief while peering all about the shop. While she drank the water, Hyatt made a more thorough examination of the premises and had soon determined that there was no one there except two harmless housewives, intent on selecting their summer muslin. His vain hope was to hustle her out of the shop before Yarrow arrived.

"Feeling better now? Shall we select those stockings?" he said.

She scowled. "No, I feel considerably worse. I asked for hartshorn, not water."

Hyatt drew a deep sigh and spoke to the clerk.

"I am afraid I have no hartshorn-perhaps a glass of wine for the lady?" the man suggested.

"Lovely!" Olivia smiled. "And a chair, if you would be so kind."

She was soon settled comfortably in, sipping wine, and waiting. "Why do you not run along and see the church now, Lord Hyatt?" she suggested again. "As I am feeling so dreadfully faint, I shall wait for you here."

He leveled a determined stare at her. "I would not dream of abandoning a lady when she is unwell. I shall suggest to Mrs. Traemore that you spend the afternoon in bed to recover."

An angry splotch of red blossomed on her cheeks. The baroness knew she had met her match in determination, but she was far from giving up. If she could not talk to John, she would leave him a note, to be delivered by the clerk. She beckoned this helpful person forward. "Do you have a ladies' room? I am suddenly feeling very nauseous," she said, with a quick, angry glance at the cause of her condition.

The clerk literally wrung his hands. "Oh, dear! It is hardly a ladies' room-merely a convenience for the staff."

"That will be fine," she said, and rose. "Where is it?"

He pointed to a corridor behind the desk. "On the left."

She pranced off, with a triumphant grin at Hyatt.

"Does the room have a window?" Hyatt asked the clerk.

"No, nor even a mirror. I fear the lady will not be comfortable there."

"No window, eh? Then she will slip you a note before she leaves. Don't deliver it," he said, and dropped a coin into the clerk's hand to buy his assistance. The man looked a question. "My niece is trying to arrange a runaway match. We are staying at Castlefield. His Grace will appreciate your help," he said, dropping these impressive hints to assure compliance.

"Oh, my! Castlefield, you say."

"Just so. There will be no need to send the note there, however. Just tear it up, or burn it."

Hyatt had read the baroness well. Her first interest was to look for a window. Finding none, she dashed a note off to John to leave with the clerk. When she came out and saw Hyatt in close conversation with the man, however, she feared his trick. She would not leave her note with the clerk. She would hide it among the wares. John was up to all the rigs. He would find it. The clerk would tell him which counters she visited.

"I am feeling much better now," she smiled, and came forward. "Where would I find the stockings, sir?"

The clerk directed her to one side of the store. Hyatt followed while she examined the wares. There was still no sign of Yarrow. He wandered off a few paces, looking idly about at the buttons but not bothering with the farce of buying any. Olivia moved on to the hosiery. With her back to him, she stuffed her note under the stockings as she selected a pair to purchase, quite oblivious to size and color. She took her selection to the clerk.

When he told her the price, she laughed merrily. "Oh, dear! I have come without any money. Hyatt, could you lend me some?"

Hyatt glanced at the pair of mustard yellow stockings she held and shook his head. He paid for them and accompanied Olivia to the street, relieved to get her away from the shop.

"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.