Lady Blue (22 page)

Or: “Farmington … Farmington … so familiar, eh? But I can’t quite place it.”

“The queen’s realm is vast, her subjects many, and I am but one.”

A little later: “Northumberland, did I hear someone say? You’re from that northern district?”

“No, but not far, not far at all.”

“Then you’re—”

“—in the perfect place to graze cattle, I assure you.

They grow fat and happy on my lands.”

It was almost a game to him, Harmony mused, as they moved on from group to group, chatting amiably, never stopping too long in one place. His life was like a disassembled puzzle, with never enough pieces to put the whole together. She wondered how he would respond if she, herself, asked him a direct question.

“Anthony …”

“Yes, my love. What would you like? Are you hungry?”

“Well, yes …”

She couldn’t deny it, the sumptuous buffet looked inviting. Guests had lined up to sample the various dishes, and Harmony’s stomach rumbled. She let Anthony guide her toward the long table.

“Anthony, what would you answer if
I
asked you—?”

“Plate, my love?”

“Thank you. What would you say if I …” Harmony paused to smile at the woman next to her, who seemed to have taken a sudden interest in their conversation. She turned back to Anthony and lowered her voice as he spooned a small mound of black caviar onto her plate.

“What would I say if you asked me what, my beautiful lady?”

“If I asked you where you live. Exactly.”

Anthony leaned down so his lips were very close to Harmony’s ear. “I’d tell you,” he whispered, “that it would be paradise on earth should you ever consent to live with me there as my love.”

Her heart leapt within her breast. The laden plate trembled in her hand and her cheeks warmed. “Anthony, what … what do you …?”

“Later, my love. Later. As I promised.”

“Well, well, well.” Brows arched, Lady Margaret turned from the handsome couple, heads bent together as they whispered intimately. “It seems to me, at least, Agatha, that you are well on your way to having a nobleman in your family. No matter how vague he may be about his background, there is nothing vague about his attraction to your lovely young sister.”

“No, there isn’t, is there?” Agatha sniffed, lips pursed. “And the attention he pays her in public is unseemly.”

“They do seem quite … familiar.”

“I do apologize for my sister’s behavior, Lady Margaret, I …”

“Pish tosh.” Lady Margaret waved a hand dismissively. “The important thing is that we pin down precisely who the gentleman is. Although the fact that he is, indeed, a gentleman, is without question. His clothes and his manners are impeccable. His education is obvious. Nevertheless, there are certain things

we absolutely
must
know.”

“Yes! Yes, of—”

“Ancestry, for instance,” Lady Margaret forged on. “The source of his wealth, not to mention its approximate size.”

“Oh, yes … yes.”

“What are the results of your inquiries so far?”

“I’ve only heard from Cumbria to date. Nothing. I’m awaiting two other responses.”

“Curious,” Lady Margaret said. “Curious that neither you nor your sister even know where he lives. Does it not concern you?”

“Absolutely, Lady Margaret!”

“Still, some eligible and quite wealthy men are very closemouthed about their personal details, their histories. You understand.”

“Of course I do.”

“It is the price the wealthy aristocracy must sometimes pay.”

“I understand perfectly, Lady Margaret.”

“Still and all, we must persist in our efforts. Especially in light of the obvious interest the two young people appear to have in one another.”

Agatha resorted to a vigorous nod, bobbing the curls at her temples.

“It would be scandalous, absolutely scandalous to discover, for instance, his was an impoverished title.

That he is a bounder, a rogue, preying on an innocent young woman with wealth of her own.”

“Insupportable!” The very idea made her quake.

“Indeed. So we shall persist in our efforts, shall we not?”

“Oh, yes, Lady Margaret. Yes. Certainly!”

With a condescending smile, the lady moved on. Agatha glanced back over her shoulder at Harmony and her suitor.

Yes, without a doubt she would learn all there was to know about Lord Farmington. She would find out if he was suitable. Or not. And if not, well …

Agatha smiled thinly. She would either be well rid of her sister, with a titled brother-in-law as icing on the cake. Or Harmony could languish with a broken heart. She didn’t really care which.

The hour was late. Harmony had had more than enough of polite, idle conversation. She was eager to be alone with Anthony, as he had promised. And to learn the answer to her question. As he had promised.

In anticipation of their imminent departure, she had visited Lady Margaret’s overdecorated powder room. Re-entering the parlor, she looked about for Anthony.

He was nowhere to be seen. She watched two or three couples head toward the grand foyer, where the Donnellys stood to bid a good-evening to their departing guests. She spied her sister standing by the buffet table stuffing a petit four furtively into her mouth, and then gazed out the open double doors to the terrace. Anthony was not in sight and Harmony turned around to look elsewhere.

The bloodcurdling scream froze her in her tracks.

P
andemonium reigned. Secondary cries and gasps followed the scream. Women grabbed their escorts. A servant dropped a tray of glasses and an elderly woman fainted. Harmony picked up her skirts, as if prepared to flee, and cast about desperately for a sign of Anthony. At last she caught sight of him.

He was entering the salon through a second set of doors at the far end of the room that led to a terrace at the side of the house. His expression was sober, his pace rapid. Harmony started in his direction.

At that moment, Anthony looked up and saw her. He slowed his pace perceptibly and smiled. Harmony could easily tell it was forced. She hesitated, nearly stumbling, and almost fell into his arms.

“What’s happened, Anthony? What’s happened?”

“I have no idea. Stay here and I’ll find out.”

Before Anthony could take another step, however, a middle-aged matron flew from the foyer into the salon, hands pressed to her cheeks. Lord and Lady Donnelly followed on her heels.

“My bracelet! My diamond bracelet,” the woman sobbed. “It’s gone!”

Harmony couldn’t help it. As icy fingers clutched at her heart, she raised her eyes to Anthony’s. He did not meet her gaze. She knew, however, that he was well aware of her glance. His hand tightened briefly on her elbow. Then he left her and walked straight to Angus Donnelly’s side.

“I’d like to help,” he said quietly.

Donnelly blinked at him stupidly. Lady Margaret put her hand comfortingly on the shoulder of the distraught woman.

“I’d be grateful for your aid, Lord Farmington. But what can you do?” Lady Margaret asked. Her voice was unsteady.

He turned to the weeping woman. “When did you last know for certain you were wearing your bracelet?”

“I … I’m not sure, really. Sometime during the evening I … I glanced down at it. But I didn’t notice it was gone until I went to bid Lady Margaret good night.” A fresh spate of sobs ensued.

“At least we know it’s here, somewhere in this house. Don’t we?”

The woman pressed a handkerchief to her eyes and nodded dolefully.

“Have you been anywhere else besides this room?”

“The … the powder room.”

“Would you be so kind?” Anthony said over his shoulder to another woman who stood nearby.

Without a word, she hurried to do his bidding. Anthony looked around the room, his glance taking in every remaining guest.

“I’m sure that what happened is simple mischance with a faulty clasp,” Anthony said. “If everyone would be good enough to look around them, we’ll find the bracelet in no time.”

Harmony remained standing stock-still. A diamond bracelet. Missing.

Yet Anthony had hurried to help.

Or was it that he had not expected the woman to notice her jewelry was missing until much later? Later, when he would have been safely away?

Harmony’s dinner turned to lead in her stomach. Almost as if in a dream, she watched the people around her walk slowly about the room, eyes downcast, searching for the missing bracelet. Was it an exercise in futility? Was there a thief among them who was merely trying to throw them off the scent? She raised her eyes with difficulty when Anthony moved to her side.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured.

“Do you?” Harmony surprised even herself by the steel in her voice. A heartbeat later, watching

Anthony’s expression, she regretted her tone. It was too late. He turned on his heel and walked away from her. Conspicuously, it seemed to her, he started to search the floor. Harmony turned away.

And found herself face-to-face with her sister.

“How traumatic for poor Mrs. Darrow,” Agatha said at once. She fingered the cameo at her throat. “I can’t imagine the distress she must feel, losing something so valuable.”

Harmony glared at her sister, unblinking. “No, Agatha. You’re right,” she said in a level, icy voice. “You cannot.”

“Well! There’s no call to be rude!”

“To the woman who has stolen my inheritance? No, of course not. How silly of me.” With grim satisfaction, Harmony watched her sister flounce off. She’d had enough of Agatha, her greed, her mean-spiritedness, and poisonous temper. And she was very, very afraid for Anthony.

The hunt continued, although with noticeably less enthusiasm. Many of the remaining guests were finally departing. Harmony wondered what Anthony would do now. Then she heard him.

“I’ve found it!”

Everyone left in the room turned in his direction. Mrs. Darrow gave a small cry of delight when she saw the bracelet dangling from Anthony’s fingers.

“Oh, Lord Farmington … thank you! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. But the pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Darrow,” he replied gallantly.

“I feel as if I should give you some reward.”

“Finding the bracelet, and returning it to you, is reward enough. Believe me.” His words were for Mrs. Darrow. But as he spoke, he looked past her. Right into Harmony’s eyes.

Assailed with guilt, she had to look away. How could she have thought it of him?

Or had he merely produced the stolen bracelet to make her feel this way? Had her suspicions spoiled his plans?

Harmony moved through the next several minutes in a daze. She knew she said the appropriate words of farewell to her host and hostess, but could not remember a thing she said. With Anthony at her side, she moved in the thinning queue toward the waiting coaches. She did not even notice that Agatha had lagged behind.

Agatha watched the couple walk away from her, down the front steps, and along the pathway to the curving drive. Resentment seethed within her like a churning, angry ocean. Her heart beat erratically.

It wasn’t fair. It never had been. From the moment Harmony was born, her world had changed. She was no longer the center of her parents’ universe. With her mousy hair and plain looks she could never compete with the golden child, Harmony, who had the perfect features, shining red hair, and sunny disposition. No matter how hard she tried, how hard she studied, how rigidly she controlled her behavior, she could never seem to win her way back into the center of her parents’ attention. There was always the laughing, adventurous, tomboyish Harmony to steal the moment, the scene, the entire play.