Lady Blue (21 page)

The key was always in her pocket, no matter what she was wearing, no matter where she was going. Agatha extracted it and shoved it quickly into the lock. It turned smoothly and the door swung wide. She removed the key and put it back in her pocket.

There was a modest array of velvet-lined jewel cases stacked neatly on the floor of the safe. On top of the boxes were neat piles of paper money. Agatha picked up a thick bundle of notes from the box she wished to open.

“Excuse me, Agatha, but I—”

“Harmony!” Startled, Agatha’s fingers slipped and the money spilled onto the floor. “What are you doing here?”

Despite how used she had become to Agatha’s venom, Harmony was still taken aback by the vehemence of Agatha’s tone and expression. She took an involuntary step backward.

“I … I just came to …”

“Get out!” Agatha spat, furious. “Get out of my room!”

Harmony took another step back. She couldn’t help but see the open safe, the money. Agatha followed her gaze and rounded on Harmony once again.

“Get out of here!”

So violent was Agatha’s reaction, she lost her balance. In an attempt to rise, she fell sideways. The key slipped from her pocket onto the floor.

It was the last thing Harmony saw before she backed all the way into the corridor. She looked up to see Mrs. Rutledge coming in her direction.

“My sister’s … upset. I didn’t have a chance to tell her Lord Farmington’s coach has arrived. Would you let her know, please?”

With a curt nod, Mrs. Rutledge sailed past her through the open bedroom door.

Shaken, Harmony hurried through the dark corridors to return to the foyer where Anthony awaited. Agatha’s attitude toward her, the depth of her anger, her hatred, definitely seemed more than mere sibling jealousy or rivalry. Something was wrong with Agatha, something deep and disturbing. It frightened her.

Anthony was where she had left him, just inside the front door. Their greeting had been brief and unsatisfying after so many days apart. Nor would they have any time alone together now that Agatha was accompanying them in Anthony’s coach. The prospect of a party no longer pleased her. She wanted to be alone with him. She wanted to be comforted by him. Even the questions and the doubt that had preyed so on her mind no longer seemed quite as important.

“Harmony, what’s wrong?” Anthony held out his hands to her as she hastily entered the foyer.

“Nothing. Not really.” Harmony allowed the warmth and strength of Anthony’s grasp close around her fingers. “My sister is … well … difficult …”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. Her coachman departed abruptly and she’ll be riding with us tonight. We won’t even have a chance to be alone together.”

Harmony looked up into Anthony’s eyes, deep into his eyes. She could almost feel herself flow into him, into his very soul. The intensity of the gaze he returned was like a welcome, an invitation, a promise of the love he had vowed he felt for her. She could scarcely believe how much she had missed him, how right, how perfect it felt to be with him again. Nothing, nothing at all, was as important as being with him. Her doubts and questions no longer mattered. She only wanted to be with him.

Anthony felt Harmony lean into him. The look in her eyes told him what he needed and longed to know. Thank God he had been able to return to her. And thank God she appeared ready to accept what he had to propose. Time was running out. Tonight was a huge risk.

The desire to take her into his arms, crush her against him, was nearly overwhelming. Only the sound of approaching footsteps prevented him. Gently, reluctantly, he pushed her away.

“Anthony …” Harmony whispered and clung to his upper arms, feeling the smooth bulge of his muscles. “Will we have any time tonight to be alone together? I …”

“Yes, I promise,” he swiftly replied, glancing over her head toward the corridor. “I have to talk to you.”

“And I you.”

Anthony laid a finger to her lips. “Promise,” he murmured. He drew away as Agatha marched into the foyer.

Harmony did not miss the angry glitter in her sister’s narrowed eyes. She returned Agatha’s glare, not at all surprised when her sister turned her attention to Anthony and a wide smile of greeting bloomed on her lips.

“Lord Farmington, how lovely to see you again,” she gushed.

“You’re looking well, Miss Simmons,” Anthony replied smoothly and raised her proffered hand to his lips.

“Thank you. Thank you, as well, for escorting me to Lady Margaret’s little gala. I can’t
imagine
what possessed my coachman.”

Harmony resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Anthony was not as circumspect.

“Perhaps he is still unnerved by the unfortunate incident with the bandit,” he said as he offered Agatha his arm. “The event must have been traumatic indeed.”

Harmony could hardly believe Anthony had said what he did. She avoided his gaze when he turned to walk Agatha through the front door. She had difficulty controlling the tug at the corners of her mouth. If only Agatha knew.

Followed swiftly on that thought came another, the one that had plagued her all day. What did she herself really know? And did it matter? Was it
going
to matter? She didn’t think so. Not now, not having seen him again. She allowed the smile to form as she followed Anthony and her sister to the coach.

Agatha chattered endlessly all the way to Lady Margaret’s country manor. Bemused, Harmony simply took it all in. She was happy merely to be in Anthony’s presence, to be within the circle of the glow that seemed to emanate from him. She fingered the diamond pendant at her throat, a legacy from her mother, and absently smoothed the folds of her satin gown. The spiral curls she favored bounced against her bare shoulders when the carriage jolted through an occasional rut. She hardly heard what Agatha was saying. Until the subject of Anthony’s home came up once again.

“Really, Lord Farmington,” she heard Agatha say. “You must stop being so mysterious. You’ve told us so much about your home, your cattle, and horses. But we still have absolutely no idea where exactly your home is!”

Harmony’s eyes widened and she sat a little straighter.

“It’s no mystery, I guarantee. It’s a manor, much like the others in my area.”

“But what area?” Agatha persisted. “Are you in the Lakes District?”

“A bit farther north, actually,” Anthony responded promptly.

“Are you near Yor—?”

“Ahh, look. It appears we’ve arrived.”

Harmony turned obediently to the window and saw the myriad of lights shining from the windows of the Donnellys’ country home. A circular drive led to a
porte-cochere,
where another carriage stood to allow its passengers to exit. Several other coaches were lined up to one side of the brick-faced manor.

“It appears to be a somewhat modest turnout,” Agatha said. “Lady Margaret feared that would be the case. So many of her friends have gone to their country estates for the season.”

“Just what one would expect at this time of year,” Anthony responded politely. “Nevertheless, it was most kind of her to make the effort on my behalf. I’m most appreciative, believe me.”

Harmony watched her sister blush and fan herself with a lace handkerchief she pulled from the reticule attached to her wrist.

“As we are appreciative of your presence in our little community, Lord Farmington,” Agatha replied.

Thankfully, Sneed appeared to assist Agatha and Harmony from the coach. Anthony joined them, offered each an arm, and proceeded toward the house. Wisely, Harmony avoided catching his gaze.

Anthony tried not to hold his breath as the three of them entered the Donnelly House foyer, but failed miserably. He glanced about hastily, noting the Lady’s tastes ran to the baroque, a style he abhorred, and took a slow, deep breath in order to make the appropriate and exceedingly polite responses to his hostess’s gushing greeting.

“How good of you to come, Lord Farmington,” Lady Margaret purred when introductions had been made.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Anthony turned his brilliant, crooked grin on Lady Margaret, who appeared to blush as easily, and unbecomingly, as Agatha, and on her husband, who cared not at all and whose own flush appeared to be entirely alcohol related. He blinked uncertainly, mumbled something unintelligible, and moved away. In search of another drink, Anthony was fairly certain.

With a single, disapproving glance in her husband’s direction, Lady Margaret returned her attention to Anthony. She fingered the ropes of pearls draped over her generous bosom.

“You must allow me to introduce you to our friends, Lord Farmington, Miss Simmons. You, as well, Agatha. I believe there are some people here you’ve not yet met.”

“You’re too kind, Lady Margaret,” Agatha murmured.

“Indeed, far too kind,” Anthony echoed. “I do not wish to distract you from your duties as hostess of this lavish and lovely evening.”

Harmony was amused to see Lady Margaret’s cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink. She was gratified as well to see so many feminine gazes turned in Anthony’s direction. Interested and appraising gazes. She licked her lips like the cat whose owner ran the dairy and tightened the arm hooked through

Anthony’s elbow.

Distractedly, Anthony patted Harmony’s hand where it lay lightly on his forearm. He had scanned the guest list, it was true, but one could never be completely sure of anything. Sneed was right. He was taking the biggest risk of all tonight. This single evening could change everything. And he didn’t care. Anthony glanced down at the crown of Harmony’s shining head.

She was worth it. If he harbored the slightest, lingering doubt, it had vanished as if it had never existed. She was the one. He would tell her everything. Soon. He had to. But not before he was absolutely certain of her, sure she was his for all time. He was almost there.

In the meantime, he simply needed to exercise care. He wanted to be the one to tell her. He wanted no unpleasant surprise to mar the beauty of what was being created between them. Anthony’s eyes swept his surroundings.

Not a single familiar face. There were names he recognized, of course, as Lady Margaret introduced them around the room. But it was as he had reassured Sneed; he had been very, very careful so far. There was no compelling reason to fear that anyone at all would recognize him. For awhile longer, at least, the charade could continue.

Close to Anthony’s side, Harmony sensed him begin to relax as they moved about, meeting and greeting Lady Margaret’s guests. She was glad of the attention everyone paid to Anthony. It minimized their curiosity about her, and she had to answer very few personal questions of her own. It was obvious most people knew who she was, where she had come from, and why. She was scrutinized, of course. But Anthony, Lord Farmington, drew most of the attention. And she found his answers to all the polite, but clearly curious inquiries, fascinating. He avoided giving out any concrete information as smoothly as he had evaded all Agatha’s questions.

“So your interest lies in cattle, Lord Farmington?”

“And horses.”

“Any breed in particular?”

“My eye is not for any one breed, but for the particular qualities of the breed I happen to be looking at, at that moment.”