Lady Blue (10 page)

Agatha was not going to defeat her. Not now, not ever. It was simply not going to happen.

The blue suit almost ripped in Harmony’s haste to tear it from her body. She didn’t care. She kicked it aside, along with her soiled petticoats.

Agatha’s house had not been updated with modern bathing rooms. In the corner, however, was an antiquated copper tub that had been filled for her the night before last. The water was chilly, but Harmony didn’t care about that either. She scrubbed until every inch of her skin was pink and tingling.

Wet hair clung to her shoulders and dripped down her back when she stepped from the tub at last. She donned clean underlinens and chose a morning gown of pink satin. Not only did the color compliment her hair color and skin tone, but Agatha would disapprove. It was perfect.

Harmony’s hair was a damp mess, but at least it was clean. When she was finally able to run a comb through it unimpeded, she coiled it around the back of her head and secured it with pearl-studded combs.

Harmony smiled grimly at her reflection. She was herself again. Now all she had to do was wait for the knock on her door.

It was Mrs. Rutledge who arrived at length, and if she was surprised by the change in Harmony’s appearance, she managed to conceal it.

“Miss Simmons requested me to inform you that breakfast is served immediately in the dining room,” she announced without preamble.

Without reply, Harmony swept past her and down the hall. Posture erect and a smile on her face, she sailed into the dining room.

Agatha sat at the head of the long, formal table. There was a place set at her right hand. Harmony took it without hesitation.

“Good morning, Agatha. How are you?”

“Quite well,” she responded tartly. “I sleep the sleep of the just. And you?”

Harmony did not rise to the bait. “Everything is wonderful, thank you very much. The bed was very comfortable, and the room is lovely.”

Agatha snorted. “We’ll see how ‘wonderful’ you think everything is when you’ve gotten into your routine and live life under
my
rules.”

Still smiling, Harmony spread her napkin over her lap. “Would you pass the toast, please, Agatha? Thank you.”

“You can wipe that smile off your face,” Agatha persisted. “There’ll be no more nights of sin spent with your lover.”

“There never were any ‘nights of sin’ spent with my lover, Agatha,” Harmony replied calmly. “The only … affair … exists in your own twisted imagination.”

“Well, I never!” Agatha’s blue-veined hands slammed down on the mahogany table. Her breakfast plate rattled. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

Fork poised, Harmony looked at her sister. “How dare
you
accuse me of something I never did?” The fork completed its journey.

Agatha’s hands gripped the arms of her chair. “Go to your room!”

“I certainly will. When I’ve finished,” Harmony said serenely.

“You’ll do what I—”

“Excuse me, Miss Simmons.” Mrs. Rutledge had appeared in the doorway from the foyer into the dining room. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but—”

“Well, what is it?” Agatha snapped.

“There’s … there’s a coach coming up the drive.”

“So?”

“It’s a very elegant coach, Miss Simmons. I’ve never seen the likes of it before.” The housekeeper’s eyes were wide.

“Then I guess you’d best go and see who it is. Hadn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Rutledge made a rapid departure.

“And you, Harmony, will go straight to your room. You will
not
backtalk me in my own home.”

Harmony put her knife and fork neatly on her plate. “Since I’ve finished, I will happily go to my room.” She pushed back in her chair in accompaniment to the knock on the door. As she walked to the exit that led straight to the corridor, she heard the sound of muffled voices.

“Miss Simmons!”

The excited tone of the housekeeper’s voice caused

Harmony to hesitate.

“What is it now, Mrs. Rutledge?” Agatha inquired with irritation.

“I … I think you’d better come, Miss Simmons,” Mrs. Rutledge said. “There’s a gentleman at the door who insists on speaking to you. He says it’s about your sister’s sapphire ring.”

“The
stolen
ring?”

Mrs. Rutledge nodded and Harmony’s heart stopped in her chest.

“Go on to your room,” Agatha ordered, and marched from the dining room.

Harmony couldn’t have moved a single muscle had she wanted to. She stood frozen in place as voices droned on in the foyer.

What about her ring? What of Anthony? Terror had so tight a grip on her she could scarcely breathe. Had he been caught?

“Harmony!”

Agatha literally flew back into the dining room. Her features had been transformed.

“There’s a gentleman here. He’s found your ring! He wishes to return it to you!”

Her tongue felt as if it had cleaved to the roof of her mouth. “My … ring?” she said stupidly.

“Yes, you simpleton,” Agatha said impatiently. “The sapphire ring that was stolen. This lovely gentleman’s coachman apparently spotted it lying by the side of the road. Being the honest man that he is, the gentleman took it to the authorities at once. Mr. Henry directed him here!”

Harmony was baffled by her sister’s excitement. The ring wasn’t worth that much. In the next moment, however, she discovered the cause of the heightened color in Agatha’s cheeks.

“Hurry up, Harmony,” Agatha said crossly. “You mustn’t keep Lord Allen waiting.”

Lord Allen?

No, it wasn’t possible. It was all a joke. A cruel and hideous joke.

Numb, Harmony let her sister pull her from the dining room into the foyer. What had happened to Anthony? As long as he lived, she knew, he would not give up possession of that ring. Nearly choking, she entered the foyer.

The elegantly dressed gentleman stood silhouetted in the front door, sunlight blazing around him, gazing outward. His body was long and lean, his dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. At the sound of Agatha clearing her throat, he turned.

Harmony saw the eyes first, impossibly dark. Then the crooked smile. As etiquette demanded, and as she had been taught, she offered her hand.

Anthony lifted it to his lips.

H
armony, have you lost your tongue?”

Agatha’s prompting brought Harmony sharply back to reality. She looked up slowly and stared straight into Anthony’s eyes, heart thudding madly. What was it he had just said? Her head ached trying to recall. Oh, yes.
Allow me to introduce myself. Anthony Allen, Lord Farmington.
Almost exactly the words he had used the night he had abducted her. Minus the Lord Farmington part.

“Harmony?” Agatha’s graying brows nearly disappeared into her hairline.

“I … I’m sorry. I suppose I’m a bit overwhelmed. You see, I’ve never met a …
lord
… before.”

“I shall take it as a compliment then, that my presence should so disturb a beautiful young woman of such obvious charm and poise. You do, however, look a trifle pale. Perhaps you’d like to sit down.”

Anthony’s act was unbelievable. Harmony could only manage to shake her head. She was afraid to leave his presence, afraid he would vanish like smoke. It was almost incomprehensible that he had suddenly appeared at her door dressed as—and claiming to be—a lord.

“Ah, but I have a better idea,” Anthony went on smoothly. He inclined his head deferentially in Agatha’s direction. “If it’s all right with you, of course, Miss Simmons, I should like to take your lovely sister for a short drive. She looks as if she might do with a bit of fresh air. Also, I would like to show her the spot on the road where my driver so fortuitously spied this ring.”

Anthony extended his hand, palm up. Harmony made no move to take it. “May I?”

Before she could respond, Anthony took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. To her chagrin, his touch sent a shiver through her. Terrified her sister would notice, Harmony quickly withdrew her hand.

“Again,” Anthony said to Agatha, “may I?”

Agatha tittered like a teenager. “If you mean, may you take my dear sister for a drive, why, I’m sure she’d be delighted. Wouldn’t you, Harmony?

“I hardly see how she could refuse, since you’ve been so kind,” Agatha verbally prodded when Harmony remained silent and unmoving.

Harmony glanced from Anthony to Agatha. If she only knew, Harmony thought. If she only knew that the “lord” her sister was so eager to have her step out with was a kidnapper and a thief. The irony of it made her smile.

“I shall take that as acquiescence,” Anthony said swiftly, and crooked his arm.

The shock had begun to wear off. Against all odds, he had found a way to come back to her. And the irony was truly delicious, the taste of it ambrosia to her soul. Harmony took Anthony’s arm.

The coach was resplendent. Its black sides glistened as if they were wet. The trim appeared to be gold, as did the metal appointments on the harness. The horses themselves were magnificent: four perfectly matched blood bays with white diamonds on their foreheads and almost perfectly matched white stockings all around. Harmony caught her breath. In the doorway behind her, Agatha
oohed
and
aahed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a glorious vehicle, Lord Farmington, or such magnificent horses,” she gushed.

“This coach’s greatest asset is its coachman, whose vision is uncannily sharp.”

Harmony glanced at the coachman, who held the door for her. His features, which were pulled downward and resembled melting wax, remained impassive. He was obviously in on Anthony’s little charade. Maybe even a compatriot, a fellow bandit. She winked at him as she climbed into the carriage.

Harmony felt she had fallen down a hole and into another dream world. The coach tilted slightly and the sunlight was momentarily blotted out as Anthony climbed inside and sat down beside her. It tilted to the opposite side when the coachman climbed up to his bench. She heard the crack of the driving whip and felt the crunch of the gravel beneath the carriage wheels. They were on their way. She turned to Anthony.

“How long before we’re arrested for driving a stolen coach?”

Anthony threw back his head and laughed.

“It wasn’t all
that
funny.”

“Oh, Harmony … Harmony.” He paused to wipe a tear from his eye. “There’s really no one like you. Everything I’ve done is worth it to have found you, gotten to know you, and come back for you.”

“I do hope you mean that, Anthony. I hope it’s worth it to you. How long is the sentence, do you suppose, for stealing a carriage? Not to mention a fine suit of clothes like that.” She glanced pointedly at Anthony’s attire: the beautifully cut dove gray jacket and ruffled shirt; skintight, dust-colored breeches; a diamond pin in his maroon silk cravat.

“Do you like them?” He brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his knee. “I shall pass the compliment on to my tailor.”

Harmony had had enough. “Stop it, Anthony. Stop pretending. It isn’t funny anymore. It’s serious. You’re going to get caught being this brazen! If my sister gets even a whiff of your deception, she’ll … she’ll …”

“She’ll what? Have me skinned?”

“Knowing her, yes. She probably will, as a matter of fact.”

“Does this mean you care what happens to me?”

“Oh, Anthony.” The shock of seeing him when she had never thought to lay eyes on him again, the strain of knowing the risk he was taking to see her, all took its toll. Tears welled in Harmony’s eyes.

“Harmony …”

“No, don’t touch me.” She turned away when Anthony tried to brush away her tears. “Just take me back, Anthony. Please. I’m so frightened for you!”

“Harmony.” This time he didn’t allow her to turn from him. He grasped her shoulders with gentle firmness. “Look at me. Please.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Harmony raised her eyes.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I promise. No one’s going to arrest me for theft because these really are my clothes and this really is my coach. I traveled all over England to find four Hackney horses that matched this well and I trained them myself. I really am a lord, Harmony. I really am.”

Harmony shook her head, hardly able to even think straight anymore. “No,” she whispered. “You … you’re the man who kidnapped me. For ransom. I saw the note. You robbed our coach. You took my ring.”

Anthony took Harmony’s hand in his and turned the sapphire ring on her finger. “Now I’ve brought it back. Whoever would have thought such a small gem could bring a man such great good fortune?”

Harmony continued to shake her head, although she was scarcely aware she was doing so. Her thoughts were very far away. Back at an inn with a cut-crystal decanter of first-class brandy. Crystal stemware and fine wine. A bandit with manicured hands. A bandit who knew a great deal about horses. Hackney horses, no less. She’d read about them. They were a popular and quite refined English breed. And Anthony also apparently knew a great deal about cattle.

“Where … where do you live?” Harmony asked at length, a thoughtful furrow on her brow.

“Far to the north of here.”

“On a farm?”

“Well, yes. Sort of.”

“That has cattle?”

Anthony visibly brightened. “Excellent guess, yes. I’m doing experimental breeding with a cross of Highland cattle, as a matter of fact.”

Either he was a very, very good liar. Or he was telling the truth. At last.

Anthony had no warning of the danger to come. One moment he was looking into the loveliest blue eyes on the face of the planet. In the next moment they had narrowed and he saw her hand coming at his face.

“Ow!”

“I hope that
did
hurt, Anthony Allen … or whatever your name is!”

“Harmony, why—?”

“Don’t you dare ask me any questions!” Harmony flared. “It’s
you
who should be giving answers. And they’d better be good!”

“All right.” Anthony held up his hands in surrender. “I apologize. I do. You’re absolutely right. What do you want to know?”

“You can start with why you robbed our coach and stole my ring. I think I’ll find it extremely fascinating to learn why
Lord
Farmington was reduced to holding up two women alone in a coach.”