Lord Hyatt sat silent, just looking, first at Olivia, then around at the spreading park, which was dotted with trees. He was planning his portrait and realized that none of his studio props suited this girl from the wilds of Cornwall. She was at home to a peg in the great outdoors, where the vivid greenery complemented her fiery hair. He would paint her without a bonnet. He thought of her wish to take off her shoes and run barefoot through the grass. That was how he wanted to paint her. But where?

"What we must do is come some morning early, before anyone is here, and let you have a ramble barefoot," Meadows said, with a doting smile at the baroness.

Hyatt's head turned to Meadows. Now there was an idea! With his full schedule, early morning sittings would suit him very well, and at that hour, Hyde Park would be deserted.

"Let us come tomorrow morning," he said.

Olivia blinked. "Do you like running in the grass barefoot, too, Lord Hyatt?"

"No, but that is how I should like to paint you."

Olivia frowned. "That is not how you painted the other ladies," she pointed out.

"I try to place each model in the background that suits her. I see you outdoors, in some such place as this."

"But without my shoes?"

Meadows wanted to appease Hyatt and said heartily, "Why, Baroness, that would suit you right down to the ground. Bare feet-ground. A pun, I daresay. Said you liked to feel the grass."

"Definitely without your shoes," Hyatt said, "and without a bonnet as well. You must be physically in touch with the earth and the sky."

"That latter requirement will call for a very long ladder," Laura said. The whole affair sounded very bizarre to her. She was afraid Hyatt intended to make sport of Olivia in his painting.

Hyatt sensed her mood and replied coolly, "Not in a painting. The model's head and shoulders are often set against the sky. No doubt you have noticed that in pictures, the earth and sky meet. It is called perspective."

"I trust it is only her head and feet that will be in contact with nature. You do plan to permit her to wear a gown?"

A pink flush rose up the column of Hyatt's neck, to color his face. "When I wish to paint a nude, I usually hire a professional model. Society is rather prudish in that respect, though I personally think that all ladies ought to be painted without their clothes. The human body is the greatest challenge for an artist. We can get away with miscalculating the dimensions of a tree or a building, but if a human body is out by more than a small fraction, we are soon caught out."

"Of course I shall wear a gown," Olivia said. "What color do you think would look nice, Lord Hyatt?"

"Yellow. Not a dull, mustardy color, and not the strident yellow of a dandelion. Something along the lines of a primrose, if you have it."

"My gowns are all white, for I am making my debut," she said.

"Good God, I don't want a formal gown. Something very plain, unstructured-the simpler the better."

Olivia had no such article in her wardrobe. She looked to her mentor for assistance. Laura had simmered down and began to envisage the sort of painting Hyatt intended to do. She felt he had chosen well. Livvie would look ludicrous in feathers and lace. Her vibrant charms showed to best advantage in a natural setting. She knew instinctively that he meant to show her as a girl, not a woman. He would want a simple outfit.

"Fanny has that yellow dimity frock…" she said.

Olivia laughed. "I will not have my portrait painted in my servant's old work clothes."

"It sounds the very thing. Wear it," Hyatt said, surprised that it was Miss Harwood, the one against his plan, who had grasped what he wanted. "If you have a wide-brimmed straw bonnet, bring it along as well. Not to wear, but perhaps to dangle from your fingers…"

"I don't have one."

"I do," Laura said.

"Why would you bring such a thing to London, cousin?”

"I like to read in the backyard sometimes. It protects me from the sun."

"I could bring my aunt's pug," Meadows volunteered.


Hyatt considered this. "I would like some animal life in the picture…"

"Maybe you could borrow Lady Devereau's monkey," Olivia suggested.

Laura, noticing Hyatt's dilating nostrils, said hastily, "Perhaps a squirrel or some birds."

Hyatt nodded, surprised again that she had captured the essence of his painting. "Dogs can be a nuisance," he said, "but I don't rule it out entirely. Do you like dogs, Baroness?"

"I love them, but Auntie wouldn't let me bring any with me. I have a lovely old sheepdog at home."

They discussed the picture for another ten minutes; then Hyatt accompanied them to their carriage. "We shall meet here tomorrow at seven," he said. Before any more plans were discussed, a flock of admirers spotted Hyatt and their privacy was over.

In the carriage, Laura said, "You arranged that meeting to convince Hyatt to paint Olivia, Mr. Meadows."

"I asked him to meet us. I was by no means sure he would come."

"How did you convince him to do Olivia's portrait?"

"It didn't take much convincing once he discovered she was the baroness from Cornwall, who came to London in the Turtle."

This pregnant comment gave rise to a few questions. Laura knew that Hyatt was enough of a sensation that he did not have to court fame by associating with the famous. Was it the baroness's fortune that attracted him? She must keep a sharp eye on him and discover if he was dangling after Olivia. If that was the case, she would have her hands full. Lord Hyatt would be a hard man to keep in line.

Olivia just sat, smiling smugly. Everyone was running after Lord Hyatt, but he had come running after her. London was not so very different from Cornwall, where she was the acknowledged queen. And here she had worried about failing in London. She was famous already, her likeness in shop windows, between the Prince Regent and Lord Liverpool. She need not worry any longer. She could relax now and begin to enjoy herself.

Chapter Six

Olivia went bursting into the house, calling to her aunt. "The greatest thing, Auntie! Lord Hyatt wants to paint my portrait after all. Is it not wonderful?"

It was Mr. Meadows who received the chaperone's grateful thanks and admiration for this tremendous piece of fortune. "Think of that! Our little Livvie done by Lord Hyatt. We have you to thank, Mr. Meadows. I don't know what we would have done without you."

This familiar accolade was enough to warn Laura she had been dethroned, but she added her warning anyway, as insurance against future accusations. "You recall that Lord Hyatt has a reputation with the ladies, Mrs. Traemore."

Hettie smiled tolerantly on her old mentor and more warmly on her new. "Mr. Meadows will go along to his studio to chaperone. And of course you, too, Laura."

"Actually, Hyatt plans to do the painting in Hyde Park," Meadows mentioned.

"Fancy that! Hyde Park," Hettie exclaimed.

"That is certainly respectable. I have been for a drive through it myself. Unexceptionable."

"We are going at seven o'clock in the morning, and I am to wear Fanny's old yellow dress with the grass stains," Olivia said, laughing.

"Seven a.m. He is an early riser, to be sure. But we can do better than Fanny's old frock. Though not one of your white gowns. They would be bound to pick up grass stains."

"Laura suggested Fanny's old yellow dress, and Lord Hyatt thought it a good idea. I am to pose in my bare feet."

Laura received a questioning stare. "Livvie will catch her death of cold in her bare feet when the dew is still on the ground."

"If you do not think it is a good idea, you have only to say so," Laura said hopefully.

Meadows cleared his throat and said, "Daresay she can wear shoes till he is actually painting the feet."

"Why can she not wear slippers?" Mrs. Traemore asked.

"Hyatt plans to paint her as a sort of-nymph of nature, in her bare feet," Laura explained. "I own I am not entirely happy with it, ma'am. I told him we would have to consult you. If you disapprove…"

Mrs. Traemore turned to Mr. Meadows for guidance. He said, "It is a great coup to get him. Every lady in London is on thorns to be done by Hyatt. I shan't leave her side for a moment."

Any course that kept Meadows by Olivia's side was bound to be adopted. Mrs. Traemore sent off for a pen and paper on the instant, and Mr. Meadows agreed to deliver the note to Hyatt that same day, to ensure that all was in order.

The ladies had no outing that evening and spent the time planning Olivia's ball. Their list of guests totaled five people. At the top was Mr. Meadows, followed by Mrs. Aubrey, Lord and Lady Morgan, and Lord Hyatt.

Mrs. Traemore found nothing ludicrous in arranging a vastly expensive ball for such a small audience. "Fancy that, Livvie. Two lords and a lady, and we have only been here a few days. I daresay by the time the ball arrives, we shall have the room full to overflowing."

After they went upstairs, Mrs. Harwood and Laura discussed the painting. "I foresee opportunities for mischief, doing the picture at a public park," Laura said. "A crowd invariably collects around Lord Hyatt wherever he goes. His last model was his mistress, Lady Devereau. She is the talk of the town."

"I don't see why they don't get Lawrence to do her. Hettie had not even heard of Lord Hyatt two days ago. Why is she suddenly so eager to have him now?"

"Because Mr. Meadows arranged it. You must have noticed he has been canonized."

Her mother gave a resigned sigh. "I hoped he was beginning to feel something for you, Laura."

"Oh, he was, Mama. He felt that I was an excellent means to ingratiate the baroness. But he may have outwitted himself by dragging in Lord Hyatt. Not that he would offer himself, but once his set get a whiff of her, Meadows may be left out in the cold. Hyatt's friends are bound to be from the very tip of the ton."