They moved along the gallery to a Rembrandt. "Here is the giant of portrait painters," he said, gazing at a self-portrait of the artist. "How can a depiction of an ugly old man be so beautiful? The colors are dull; the background practically nonexistent. Age may have something to do with that-the pigments are overlaid with dirt. The duke doesn't take proper care of his artworks. But when all is said and done, what mesmerizes one with Rembrandt is those few square inches of the model's face."

"It is the eyes, I think. That old saw that the eyes are the mirror of the soul seems true here. Can't you see the sorrow in his eyes? One could almost think it was despair, yet surely Rembrandt had cause to be content. He was famous."

"This was done toward the end of his life. He was in despair. Bankrupt, his wife and son dead. And for all his genius, his austere style of painting was out of fashion." To lighten the mood, he said, "He ought to have had a sideline in fashionable portraits, like Hyatt. But enough of Hyatt, and art. Let us go out and enjoy the sunshine."

Hyatt borrowed a whiskey and took Laura for a tour of the estate, impressing her vastly with all the grandeur that Olivia had not bothered to look at. They drove past acres of pasture, where cattle grazed idly on rich grass; along the banks of the river, admiring the tenant houses; through the spinney and park, and dismounted at the orchard for a stroll.

Hyatt offered his arm to assist her over the rough grass. When his fingers slid down and grasped her fingers, she did not say anything, but she was surprised at the intimacy. It was a novelty for her to walk hand-in-hand with a gentleman, and such a dasher as Hyatt had never come her way before. She even thought he might try to kiss her in the privacy of the orchard, and wondered what she would do. But when they reached the end, they just turned around and went back to the whiskey, thence back to the house.

And she was just a little disappointed that he had continued to behave so properly. But really he had never behaved with anything but perfect propriety when she was with him. Flirtation between ladies and gentlemen was hardly improper. Where had he got his dashing reputation? He seemed not only sensible but modest, despite his fame and wealth.

Olivia and Talman had returned some time before. Olivia was bored from looking at the roses, and fast falling into a fit of the sulks.

"Where have you been all afternoon?" she demanded, when Laura and Hyatt joined them.

"Driving, and walking," Laura replied. "Did you have a good ride?"

"The baroness soon tired," Talman said. "I have been trying to convince her to have a lie-down. Travel is so wearing." He was still enamored and trying to find excuses for the baroness's ill temper.

Her alleged fatigue did not prevent her suggesting a new outing. "Let us all drive into the village," she said. "Gatwick must be close by."

"Crawley is closer, and larger," Talman said. "But it is a little late to set out now."

"Crawley?" Olivia said, frowning. It was Gatwick that she had arranged as their meeting place. They were not to meet until the morning, however, so she did not press for the trip now. "I should particularly like to see Gatwick.”

"There is an interesting old church there," Talman mentioned.

"Then we shall go tomorrow morning. What shall we do now? Could we play shuttlecock?"

"I thought you were tired," Talman reminded her.

"I am rested now, after looking at the roses for so long."

"Croquet would be less strenuous," Talman decided, and sent for the mallets and balls and hoops.

For the remainder of the afternoon, the four played croquet, which amused Olivia sufficiently that she tolerated the game without much ill humor.

The duchess had no strenuous entertainment planned for the evening. Castlefield was returning from London in time for dinner. One of the guests, a Miss Anderson, was a singer of some note, and entertained the guests after dinner with a few songs. Olivia became restless during the third one. She fiddled with her skirt, plaited the fringe of her shawl, whispered to Talman, and finally excused herself on the grounds of fatigue.

Not quite trusting her cousin, Laura left with her to make sure she did go to bed. She wondered about that request to go to Gatwick. Was the chit up to something? There was no point asking her outright. She must get at it by indirection.

"Did you enjoy your day?" she asked, as they mounted the grand staircase.

Olivia yawned. "A dead bore, but tomorrow I shall have a decent ride."

"Your mount was satisfactory then?"

She was roused to some enthusiasm by this question. "A sweet goer! She is called Briar. I'm sure she could give me a bruising ride, but Talman kept to a canter. He wanted to show me all his father's cattle and things.”

"Castlefield is a magnificent estate."

"Yes, but who wants to live in a museum, cousin?"

They had reached Laura's room. "What time shall we go to the village tomorrow?" she asked.

"Oh, are you going, too?" Olivia said.

"I thought it might be amusing."

"It seemed to me you were pretty well amused by Hyatt. Mr. Meadows's nose will be out of joint."

"He is not my beau."

"Hyatt is much more amusing," Olivia said, as though she had no interest whatsoever in Meadows herself. "You were right to say I could do better than Mr. Meadows."

"Lord Talman is certainly a good deal better, so far as eligibility goes."

"If you mean he is richer, I cannot disagree, but they are both dead bores. Good night, cousin."

There was indeed no disputing taste, if Olivia preferred that jackanapes of Yarrow to Lord Talman or even Mr. Meadows. Laura spared a thought for Meadows, wishing he were there to accompany the party to Gatwick tomorrow. Perhaps Hyatt would join them… On this happy thought, she slept.

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."