Joan Smith - The Barefoot Baroness

"What is the peculiarity of the yellow room? Does it have good, stout walls?" the baroness asked.

"It locks from the outside. I asked the butler to lock the door and hide the key over the door frame. He is to let her out tomorrow morning."

"That's horrid!" Olivia said. "What if there is a fire during the night?"

"Then I might let her out," Talman said. He shook his head ruefully. "I ought to get back to the ball. I expect you folks will want a moment to recuperate, but don't stay away too long. It will only fuel gossip if you all disappear."

"I'll go with you," Olivia said, jumping up.

Left alone, Laura and Hyatt exchanged a conscious look. "Did you jilt Lady Devereau?" Laura asked. "Is that why she is so angry with you?"

"It was not so much a jilting as a refusal to respond to her advances. I only wanted to paint the lady. I paid her to sit for me. When I pay a model, I usually keep the painting. Marie-Lady Devereau-decided she wanted to keep the painting. I refused.”

"Why did you want to keep it?"

Hyatt looked confused. "I don't know, really. I do like to keep a representative sample of my own work.

Marie's picture is one of my best. But it was her insistence that really got my back up. I daresay she'll end up with it."

"I would give it to her, if I were you. The woman has no breeding-causing a row at a polite party."

"There is nothing like breeding, when all is said and done. You have noticed I do not fly into a pelter when you refuse to humor me with a flirtation."

"If you expect me to roll my eyes at you, Lord Hyatt, forget it. I must have been behaving very badly if both Lady Devereau and Olivia think I am your flirt."

"No one will look to either of those ladies for a sensible reading of your behavior. One must always consider the source of an insult. If you consider flirting with me an insult, that is to say. Personally, I do not consider this a flirtation."

She looked a question at him. "Indeed! What do you call it when you trail at a lady's apron strings for an entire weekend? You must forgive Olivia if she has misunderstood the matter. I wonder how Lady Devereau knew."

Hyatt just sat, quietly watching. The evening's excitement had brought an animation to Laura that was lacking before. She had responded with unexpected fire to Lady Devereau's malicious attack. Yes, there was more to Miss Harwood than he had suspected. And even before this discovery he had been half in love with her. Her quiet charm and breeding were attractive. To discover she had a sharp tongue when she was in a temper was delightful.

"There are other reasons than flirtation for dogging a lady," he said thoughtfully.

Her color heightened as she looked at him uncertainly. He could not be implying what she thought. Oh no, she surely misunderstood. But as his head inclined to hers, she knew she had not. His arms came out and pulled her against his chest. She looked at him with dark, frightened eyes; then her eyelids fluttered closed as his lips found hers.

The gentleness of his kiss surprised her. She had thought Hyatt would be a rougher lover, but his arms cradled her gently, and his lips were more pleading than predatory. Calmed by his tender approach, she let her arms encircle him and responded to his warm lips.

Later, she was quite at a loss to understand how this polite embrace had escalated to scalding passion. There had been no sense of an attack, but a slowly rising fever that seduced her into an unladylike fervor. His arms tightened very gradually. At no particular moment was she aware of it, but she noticed when the pressure against her lungs became painful. She could not fail to notice when a low growl emanated from his throat, to blend with her own anguished moan.

That was when she tried to draw away. A secret thrill surged through her when he would not let her go but held her to him by main force. By then, his lips were ruthlessly plundering hers. Really, she could not blame him entirely. It just seemed to happen. Human nature swelled over them both in a wave of desire that left her weak.

When at last she succeeded in putting an inch between them, Hyatt's warm fingers stroked her throat. They brushed down the column of her neck to cling with shuddering intimacy to her bare shoulders. His hot lips were at her ear, uttering words she had never thought to hear. "You darling, delightful hussy, hiding your fire behind that prim smile. I am mad for you. I want to kiss every inch of your-"

"Eeek!" she squealed, and jumped up, as Olivia came bouncing in at the doorway.

"Laura! What are you doing!" the baroness demanded in censorious tones. She hurried forward, her eyes wide with reproach and curiosity. "Upon my word, this is pretty rich! You all cutting up at me, when John was doing no worse than this. Not as bad, in fact. At least I was fully dressed, and standing up. Hyatt was nearly on top of you."

"I will have you know I am fully dressed," Laura replied, pulling at the bodice of her gown, which had slipped awry during the tussle.

"I hope you have got an offer from him, or there is absolutely no excuse for this. And I shall tell your mama," she added, with childish spite.

Hyatt straightened his tie and glared at the wretched girl. "You may be very sure my intentions are honorable, miss," he said. "Which is more than can be said for Mr. Yarrow's."

"That's all you know about it. So are you engaged, Laura?" she asked eagerly. This startling news was enough to make her forget her accusations.

"Certainly not!" She looked at Hyatt, who smiled softly, as his glowing eyes held hers.

"It is customary for a lady to consider an offer before accepting-or declining," he explained to Olivia.

"How long should she wait?" Olivia asked.

In her unsettled state, Laura paid no heed to that ominous question. "What was it you came to tell us?" she asked, trying for an air of dignity.

"Did you not hear the gong? Everyone is going into dinner."

Laura had some vague recollection of hearing a gong. It had blended with the bells and other unreal sounds that eddied around her during that embrace.

Dinner made a diversion. As they left the room, Laura got Olivia a step ahead of Hyatt and said in a commanding whisper, "Don't mention any of this to anyone."

"Surely you will accept him, cousin."

"I need a little time to think about it.”

Olivia gave a conspiratorial smile. "Very well, but I don't think you should leave him hanging too long. Lady Devereau is remaining overnight, you must know. If you refuse, why, there is no saying that he won't take refuge with his former lover.”

"Really, Olivia. You should not say such things.”

"You shouldn't do such things," Olivia smiled boldly.

Laura feared she had lost the last vestige of control over her troublesome cousin. And to make it worse, Hyatt's smile told her he was thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. She wanted to go upstairs alone, but with the shadow of Lady Devereau hanging over them, she knew she must continue to act nonchalant for several hours yet. The only slight alleviation to her condition was that Lady Devereau had retired for the night.

Laura feared that supper would be a ghastly meal. People would be gossiping about Lady Devereau's performance, with herself as adversary. They were already whispering their heads off about the baroness. At dinner, they would have two of the three infamous ladies at the same table. Lord Talman had not asked them to join his table, but at least they had Lord Hyatt for an escort. She realized how outre she and Livvie had become, when they must look to Hyatt to lend them a touch of respectability.

It was beyond human nature to ignore the threesome, and their table did receive a deal of attention. But somehow, between Hyatt's nonsense and Livvie's lack of concern and a euphoria that swelled up in her when she remembered Hyatt's embrace, Laura actually enjoyed the interlude. She could not say she enjoyed the viands. In fact, when the meal was over, the only thing she could actually recall eating was a stalk of asparagus that Hyatt had fed her.

She had felt flattered, yet she recalled with a wince having chastised Olivia for accepting a petit four from Yarrow's fingers at another party. Olivia had noticed the asparagus incident, too. She cocked her head to one side and gave her sly smile, as though to say, Aha, I see it is a case of do as I say, not as I do.

Laura's greatest fear-that Olivia would broadcast Hyatt's proposal, if one could call it a proposal-did not come to pass. Actually, he had not asked her to marry him. He had merely announced that his intentions were honorable. That could mean that he was considering a proposal-testing the waters, as it were, to see if they would suit. There was hardly a worse-suited couple in all of London than Hyatt and Miss Harwood. He was a wealthy peer, a dasher, and a womanizer, sought after by not only the nubile debs, but by such high fliers as Lady Devereau. Miss Harwood was a provincial miss who wanted only a respectable match to save herself from spinsterhood.

But now that he had kissed her and whispered those unbelievable words in her ear, she realized that any other parti would be unthinkable. If Hyatt did not come up to scratch, she would return to Whitchurch, put on her caps, and set up as a spinster.

When dinner was finally over, it was one o'clock. Surely she could retire now without appearing to flee the scene of her shame. When Olivia raised her fingers to stifle a yawn, it was a good enough excuse to suggest they both retire. To Laura's considerable surprise, Olivia agreed without argument.

"Just one more dance," Hyatt said, with a wheedling smile. "Now that we are as well as engaged, even you cannot object to standing up with me a second time," he pointed out.

"We are not engaged," she said simply.

Hyatt regarded her blushing embarrassment with satisfaction. "What, are you planning to jilt me? After your stout defense of my character in the refreshment parlor, I felt myself as good as accepted."

"You are being perfectly nonsensical," she said, grasping Olivia by the wrist to lead her away.

"Aren't you going to kiss her good night?" Olivia asked Hyatt.

"Not in front of an audience," he parried, but bis glowing eyes said he would like to.

Laura said, "Good night, Hyatt," and darted upstairs, dragging Olivia along with her. "That was an ill-bred thing to say," she scolded.

The baroness turned a sapient eye on her cousin. "Then I expect I shall hear you repeat it, for tonight you have done all the things you have been telling me not to do. You were very rude to that nice Lady Devereau. You sneaked off to the library to cuddle with Hyatt, after cutting up stiff with me for meeting John." As a parting shot she added, "And I saw him feeding you that asparagus, too. You are a fraud, cousin."

Then a conspiratorial smile flashed out and she threw her arms around Laura. "I like you much better, now that you have acquired a few human failings. Love becomes you. Good night."

She was gone, leaving Laura alone to ponder the situation. Olivia was quite right. She was a fraud, dispensing her rules and regulations, and breaking every one of them as soon as Hyatt tossed his hankie at her. She had obviously lost the last vestige of control over the chit. She had failed to maneuver Olivia into an engagement with Lord Talman-and, truth to tell, she was not sorry. He was a dull clod of a fellow, too concerned with appearances. Yarrow was too much the opposite, however, and a gambling fool to boot. She must try to keep him from Olivia after they returned to London. But in her heart she knew that if Olivia felt about Yarrow as she felt about Hyatt, wild horses would not keep them apart.

The morning brought a few unpleasant surprises. Mrs. Traemore had got wind of Laura's misdeeds and came to her room before breakfast to take her to task.

"I hear you have made yourself a byword, Laura," she said accusingly. "It seems hard to scold little Livvie for a bit of childish carry-on when you, who are looking after her, have been throwing yourself at Lord Hyatt's head."

"I have not been throwing myself at Hyatt," Laura said, but she said it apologetically, without conviction.

"You are not blushing like a blue cow either, I suppose," Hettie retorted. "I wonder if I did right to entrust Livvie to you. No wonder she misbehaves, when she has you for a model."

"I have done the best I can with Olivia. If you are not satisfied with my company, Mrs. Traemore, I shall be very happy to return home."

"Yes, now that you have nabbed a title for yourself! And never mind that you did not bring Talman up to scratch for Livvie. I begin to see why you were so eager for Livvie to look ridiculous in her portrait. You wanted to give Hyatt a disgust of her, so you made her take off her shoes and pose in Fanny's old, faded, yellow frock, with the grass stains on the hem. Fanny told me as much, but I, like a fool, would not listen to her."