Lady Blue (14 page)

“Yes. They directed him to me. I recognized the ring immediately, of course, and was overjoyed for my dear sister.”

Lady Margaret had leaned forward in her chair, listening avidly. Her tea, unnoticed, had grown cold. “What happened then?”

“Why, I called Harmony to come and thank Lord Farmington personally.”

“Very smart.”

Agatha flushed with the compliment. “Thank you, Lady Margaret. It did seem the thing to do. My sister is … rather lovely. And Lord Farmington, well …” She rolled her eyes upward.

“Do tell me what he looks like, Agatha dear,” Lady Margaret urged.

Agatha snickered.
“So
very well dressed. And
such
a fine figure in those close-fitting trousers. I could tell dear Harmony was taken with him at first glance.”

“How romantic!”

“Quite. And Lord Farmington seemed taken as well.”

“So he’s asked to call, has he?”

Agatha gave a deep nod. “He has even, I understand, extended his business trip to this area in order to call.”

“He’s not from London, then?”

“Oh, no.” Agatha shook her head.

“I thought not. As I said, I’m not familiar with the name.”

“Nor am I. However, as Lord Farmington told me himself, he’s from the north. A rather secluded area, as he describes it.”

“I see. Well, that explains it, I suppose.” Lady Margaret sat back. “Despite my husband’s many lofty connections and wide social circle, one cannot be familiar with each and every noble of the realm.”

“My exact words, Lady Margaret.” The two women exchanged knowing smiles.

“A dinner party is just the thing then, I agree,” Lady Margaret pronounced. She poured the cold tea into a dregs container and prepared herself a new cup from which she sipped with an exaggerated moue. “I’m grateful to you, Agatha, for letting me be the first to féte our visiting lord.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Margaret, believe me.” Smiling with heartfelt gratitude and contentment, Agatha touched the pearls decorating her barren, black bodice. Her jewels could in no way compete with Lady Margaret’s, but things were beginning to look up in her world. Someday …

“I shall set a date at once and send over a guest list for your approval. Is that acceptable?”

“You’re too kind.”

“Nonsense. I shall look forward to it.”

“So will I,” Agatha readily agreed.

“And if all goes well …”

Lady Margaret left her sentence to dangle intentionally. If Agatha had been a cat, she would have purred. For the first time since her sister’s arrival, a ray of sunshiny hope pierced the bleak, gray fog that had become her existence.

“Exactly, Lady Margaret. As you very well know, it’s quite nice to have a nobleman in the family. And thank you so much for your help.”

“Not at all, Agatha dear. Not at all.”

Following polite farewells, Agatha took her leave. She had to force herself to walk slowly and sedately down the flower-bordered flagstone path to her coach. Charles, the coachman, climbed stiffly to the ground when he saw his mistress approach.

“Home, ma’am?” he asked when he opened the door and lowered the steps for her.

“No, I think not, Charles.” Agatha paused, pale, narrow brow knitted in thought. “No,” she repeated. “Take me into Millswich, to the library. I have to do a little research.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Agatha settled into her seat with a satisfied smirk. Lady Margaret had been all too willing to entertain a lord, just as she had supposed. It was a shame, however, she hadn’t heard of the Farmington title. From the looks of Anthony Allen, Lord Farmington, his dress, his coach, his manner, he was very highly placed and wealthy indeed. A little research would prove her out. Lady Margaret would be pleased to know the exact position of the aristocrat she entertained.

It would also be nice to know more about the man she hoped would soon become her brother-in-law.

Yes, it was absolutely the thing. She would find out exactly who Lord Farmington was, where he came from, what peerage rank he held, and how his title had come by its obvious wealth.

H
armony stared at the gowns strewn over her bed, their jewel-like colors brightening the otherwise dim and gloomy chamber. She reached out to stroke a velvet ribbon on an amethyst-hued bodice, and felt tears spring to her eyes.

Her parents had always been so very, very generous with her. She had been given everything she could ever want. Agatha was wrong to think that anyone had to suffer deprivation if they lived on a cattle ranch in the West. They had been members of a lovely and lively community with many a social gathering. There were trips to New York as well, and St. Louis. Harmony had led a gay and happy life and had never lacked for anything. Her trunks had been full of beautiful clothes when she had arrived in England, and her heart full of wonderful memories. It was a good thing. There would be no more of either now.

Harmony moved from the amethyst silk to a gown of midnight blue. Her tears dried and a faint smile touched the corners of her mouth.

Lady Blue. The girl with the sapphire eyes. That’s what the bandit had called her. The bandit who turned out to be Lord Farmington. Lord Farmington, who was going to take her in to London tonight for an intimate dinner with some of his friends. Whoever would have believed such a thing could be true, that it could actually happen? A dime novel come to life. A handsome bandit who turned out to be a lord. And she, little Harmony Simmons, on his arm attending an intimate dinner party in London.

A quiver of excitement tingled to the very tips of Harmony’s fingers. She couldn’t help it. Just the thought of being alone with Anthony on the carriage ride to and from London, on a warm and moonlit summer night, made butterflies swarm in her stomach. As much as she would like to, she couldn’t deny that her feelings for Anthony were strong. She had told him she wasn’t certain she could ever trust him again, but that didn’t erase the physical attraction between them. Was it strong enough to overcome her lingering doubts?

Harmony didn’t know. She did know, however, that she looked forward to meeting his friends. The type and character of a man’s friends spoke a great deal about the man himself. The slightly wicked side of her also continued to enjoy the irony of the situation.

Harmony held the blue gown up to her breast and looked into the mirror. It was perfect. Her smile broadened.

Agatha had probably been absolutely right when she had said there seemed to be an instant attraction between her sister and the man who robbed their coach. The same man, the same physical attraction, that had so scandalized her, was now the most important and exciting thing in Harmony’s life. Simply change the bandit into a lord and everything was all right, desirable even. If Agatha only knew!

Harmony chuckled bitterly to herself. Maybe she would tell Agatha the truth one day, merely to see her reaction. Although it might not matter at all. As long as Agatha kept Harmony’s portion of the inheritance, she undoubtedly didn’t care who Harmony married. To have a lord as a brother-in-law, even if he had momentarily masqueraded as a bandit, would purely be icing on an already rich cake.

But Harmony didn’t want to think about that anymore. She glanced back into the mirror and ran her fingers from the low-cut bodice down to the pinched waist and flare of the skirt. She had small, diamond pendant earrings her mother had given her for her eighteenth birthday that would look elegant with the dress. Her hair would be worn up, of course, but styled into ringlets that would frame her face and lightly touch the tops of her bare shoulders. A touch of rouge to her lips and cheeks would complete the picture. A portrait of Lady Blue. She knew Anthony would approve.

And it was really all that mattered.

Anthony stood before the tall, oval cheval glass and gave his cravat a final adjustment. His eyes slid to the left and found Sneed’s reflection behind him.

“If you have dressed to impress,” the tall man commented dryly, “then you’ve succeeded admirably.”

“Why, thank you, Sneed.”

“Shall I bring the coach ‘round?”

“Do you think it’s time to go?”

“You know exactly what I think.”

“Fetch the carriage anyway.”

“I live to serve.”

Anthony wasn’t able to suppress his smile, but managed to contain his chuckle. He didn’t want to give Sneed any more encouragement than was necessary. He watched the dark-clad man leave the room and returned to his reflection in the mirror.

Sneed was right. At least he hoped he was. Anthony regarded the tight black trousers of the finest material, perfectly fitted linen shirt, maroon and black cravat, and slate gray jacket. He adjusted the cravat one more time and ran his fingers through his shining hair. It was unfashionably long, he knew, and he should probably pull it back. But Harmony seemed to like it down, to brush off his shoulders with that sweet, small smile on her lips. Anthony smiled himself, in anticipation of it.

He wanted everything to be just right. He couldn’t lose her, not again. There was not another woman like her. There was no one else who could lead this life. His life. Although, he had to admit, there were women who had thought they would enjoy his lifestyle. It did seem glamorous at first. But the glamour inevitably faded. It was the long periods of virtual seclusion, the “hiding out,” he supposed. The endless charade.

He loved it; he lived it. It suited him. But women found it was not all they had thought it would be. Besides, Anthony mused, it was the lifestyle that attracted them in the first place, not necessarily the man.

With Harmony it was different; he knew it. He had known from the first moment. Although he was sorry that what he had done had damaged his potential relationship with her, he wasn’t sorry he had spent the time and gotten to know her so well. He wouldn’t have discovered how special she was, how incredibly spirited and individualistic. She was perfect for him. Perfect. Furthermore, he simply didn’t think he could ever live without her.

He would have to move swiftly, however. Time was of the essence.

With a last glance in the mirror, Anthony strode from his room.

Harmony had considered sitting in the parlor while she waited for Anthony to arrive. She would have relished Agatha’s disapproving glances at her neckline, knowing all the while her sister dared say nothing about it. Almost anything at all was permissible in order to snag a wealthy and aristocratic husband.

On second thought, however, she hadn’t wanted to ruin her good mood. She looked forward to seeing Anthony. Despite all that had come between them so far, she wondered if she had, indeed, met the man she was destined to marry. Was this the man who, in spite of everything, she was going to fall in love with?

It was possible; Harmony couldn’t deny it. The mere thought of seeing him again sent a shiver through her. When Mrs. Rutledge announced he had arrived, Harmony doubted she could stand and walk because her knees suddenly felt so weak. Short of breath although she maintained a sedate pace, she walked to the foyer.

“You look lovely. Absolutely lovely.”

“Thank you,” Harmony breathed. He looked absolutely lovely himself. She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying so. At her side, she heard Agatha clear her throat.

“You’ll be home at a respectable hour, I trust?”

“Of course,” Anthony replied smoothly. He had barely glanced Agatha’s way. He could hardly tear his gaze from Harmony’s face. “My friends are very important and highly placed people. They have busy lives and are not inclined to spend an entire night indulging in an entertainment.”

If Agatha had caught the subtle rebuke, she seemed not to notice. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“Oh, yes, certainly,” she tittered. “Don’t worry about time. Don’t worry about anything at all. Enjoy your evening.”

Without further ado, Anthony crooked his arm and Harmony glided to his side. She walked on air all the way to the coach.

The days had lengthened. Light lingered and the perfumed dusk of England’s summer evening fell softly. The world glowed with pink radiance as the sun finally set below the distant horizon. The interior of the coach became a rose-tinted, secluded island of magic.