A gasp from the audience stabbed the air. Lady Devereau knew she had been bested-and by this country bumpkin who looked as if butter would not melt in her mouth. "His might, but will yours?" she retorted, and swept from the room.

Lord Jerome had come looking for her. She grasped his arm and said in a carrying voice, "Take me back to the ballroom, Jerry. I am bored to tears. I feel like waltzing. Tell the dear duke I must have a waltz."

In a refreshment parlor, a loud buzz rose up to the rafters as the guests realized it was over and they could now begin discussing it. "Outrageous," "hussy," and "the outside of enough" were some of the more polite comments.

The baroness was enjoying herself hugely. "Bravo, Laura!" She laughed. "I never knew you could be so rude."

"Why not? I am your cousin, after all," Laura said, and whisked Olivia off to the library to escape the prying eyes.

Hyatt followed them, wondering what words he could possibly say to mitigate Marie's insults. He snatched a tray from a passing waiter and carried a bottle of wine and glasses to the library. A smile lurked on his lips. He was pleased with Laura's attack. He knew she had breeding but was surprised that she possessed such sangfroid under fire.

Now that her moment had passed, however, Laura felt quite faint and collapsed on the nearest sofa. "You were splendid!" Hyatt smiled, passing the wine. "This calls for a toast."

"To Lady Devereau!" Olivia said, lifting her glass.

"No, to Miss Harwood," he parried, and quaffed the wine, for he felt the need of it himself. "I am most dreadfully sorry, Laura. I would not have brought this down on your head for the world. What must you think of me?"

"It is not your fault, though I think you might have stood up for me and told her I was not flirting with you."

"But you were! In fact, you are," Olivia pointed out.

"I am not!"

"You told me it was vulgar to roll my eyes at my beaux. You have been rolling your eyes at Hyatt all day."

"This is all your fault," Laura said, realizing instinctively that offense was her only defense. "You see now what your clandestine meeting with Yarrow has accomplished. Talman is disgusted with you. Lady Devereau is no doubt making your name a byword this very instant."

"We were only kissing," Olivia pouted.

"I cannot imagine what Talman will say when he hears of this altercation."

"I can," Olivia laughed. "He will pull his stiff face and say that Lady Devereau is 'not the thing.' I must own, I liked her.”

Talman soon came pouncing in. "I have just heard! Baroness, Miss Harwood, you must allow me to apologize. How Jerome ever allowed that creature to talk him into bringing her here-not the thing, that woman."

Olivia uttered a faint giggle to hear her prediction come true.

"It is my fault, and I am very sorry," Hyatt said. "I have just been apologizing to the ladies."

"I have no doubt you were her target, but it was unladylike of her to take out her spleen on my guests."

"Where is she now? What is she doing?" Hyatt asked.

"She asked for a waltz. I told the musicians not to play any. She took a miff and has claimed a sick headache. Instead of asking Jerome to take her away, she insisted she was too upset to travel and went up to bed. I shall have her breakfast sent to her room tomorrow to keep her away from the invited guests. I shall have Jerome remove her as soon as she has eaten. Really, she is impossible. I had the butler put her in the east wing, where she shan't bother anyone. In the yellow room," he added, and smiled at Hyatt.

"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."