Lady Blue
Page 13
“Where would you like to go, my love?”
“Oh, Anthony, I don’t know!” Harmony pushed away from him slightly to look up into his face. His eyes glittered darkly in the reflected moonlight. A suggestion of his crooked smile lifted one corner of his handsome mouth. Lightning coursed, white-hot, from the center of her breast to the secret, sacred spot between her legs.
“I think I know just the place,” Anthony replied finally. He leaned forward and called a brief instruction to Sneed. When he sat back, Harmony melted against him again, and he wondered at the chance he was taking.
She wanted him. He knew, certainly, that he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. But what would happen if he gave in to her? Would he lose what he had gained? The question, and the need, tortured him.
In a short while the carriage slowed and Anthony knew he must make his decision. With every ounce of willpower he was able to muster, he straightened and held Harmony away from him as Sneed opened the door.
“Would you like to take a little walk with me?”
Harmony could only nod. She extended her hand to Anthony and let him assist her from the coach. Dazed as she was by his nearness, and her nearly overpowering desire for him, it took a moment for her to register her surroundings. She gasped with surprise and delight when she at last allowed the moonlit scene to fill her senses.
“Anthony! Oh, Anthony … where are we?”
“The gardens of the estate of a … a friend … of mine.” Lying yet again. Oh, God, when would it end? When could it end?
“And they won’t mind that we’re here?”
“Not at all, I assure you.” Anthony crooked his elbow and Harmony took it. Her eyes were wide and glittered with the inner fires of the gem they so closely resembled.
“This must be the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen!”
“I’m so glad you approve. Walk with me a way?”
“Oh, yes,” Harmony breathed.
The path they followed was of carefully laid flagstone, cunningly fitted together. It meandered and branched over what had to be acres and acres of gently rolling green hills. Copses of alder and ash studded the distant hilltops, cow parsley growing in their shade. Yew trees, branches streaming upward like smoke, lined the pathways here and there. Ivy crept along the ground and twined up the trunk of an oak tree. Silver and downy birch marched up the slopes like a silent and stately army. In the minivalleys between the hills were gardens of varied description: snapdragons and daisies; petunia and periwinkle; bluebells and violets. There was a rose garden, in the center of which stood a gazebo, covered with wild, climbing roses. Fragrant tuberoses lined the walkway to the gazebo. Swans and ducks, now still and peaceful for the night, slept beside small, scattered lakes and ponds. Weeping willows trailed their branches in the moonlit surface of the dark waters.
Side by side, arms linked, Harmony and Anthony walked for several minutes. It was as if they walked in a wonderland. At length, Anthony led Harmony to the rose-covered gazebo. They sat together on a stone bench in the perfumed shadows.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Anthony,” Harmony whispered. “It’s the perfect ending to the perfect evening.”
“Was it really? Perfect, I mean?”
“The most perfect night of my life,” Harmony replied honestly.
“Does this mean that you …?” Anthony swallowed. “That you forgive me for our … our bad beginning?”
It was almost as if he had read her mind. Over and over again Harmony had tried to summon the anger and betrayal she had once felt. It was gone, however, vanished as if it had never been. When she recalled their initial time together she did not experience dismay, but excitement. She would never be able to forget how he had looked in his tight buckskins, large, dark, expressive eyes shining above his kerchief. And when she remembered the night they had spent together, side by side …
“Are you cold?” Anthony asked with concern when Harmony shivered.
She shook her head. She was not cold at all. She was, in fact, burning.
“Anthony …”
He could almost feel the heat rising from her. He had known many women. He had never known one so completely sensual … and so completely unaware of it. He felt the stirring in his groin and knew he must do something soon, or lose control.
With a groan, Anthony stood and offered his hand to Harmony. She took it, but he did not miss the flick of her gaze over the crotch of his trousers. He watched her cheeks redden, and waited for his own flush of embarrassment.
But it didn’t come. Instead he felt the full and awesome power of his manhood. Still holding Harmony’s hand, Anthony pulled her against him.
She thought she might faint. Never had she experienced anything as overpowering as the desire she felt for the man who had pulled her into the hard, strong circle of his arms. She placed her hands against his chest. Not to push him away, however, but to feel the rhythm of his heart pulsing into her palms and fingers. Then his grip on her tightened and she raised her lips to meet his.
The electricity of their passion sizzled through both of them simultaneously. One arm around her shoulders, the other around her waist, Anthony unconsciously bent Harmony backward as his mouth, in his hunger, devoured her. Harmony became aware of the hardness of him pressing against her, igniting a flame that spread from her belly to her throat. Her hands slid away from his chest to slip around his neck, the better to pull him to her that she might be consumed.
For it was all Harmony wanted now. To be drawn into Anthony, into his body, his soul. To meld with him and become one with him, never to be separated again. Like molten metal, her body flowed against his.
The enormity of what Anthony felt lent an unaccustomed weakness to his knees. Trembling now himself, he straightened, Harmony still held to his chest, and he pulled his lips from hers. He couldn’t let it go any further. He couldn’t.
“Harmony, no … we … we can’t do this. It’s too dangerous.”
Dangerous. The word echoed with surprising clarity in her head. Yes, Anthony was right. It was dangerous. Dangerous to feel this way about someone she wasn’t even sure she could trust. Worse, she didn’t care if she could trust him or not. She cared about nothing except the way she felt in his arms, in his very presence. Without fully realizing what she was doing, Harmony leaned into Anthony and raised her face to his, eyes heavy-lidded.
“I don’t care,” she murmured.
But Anthony did. He cared far too much to make a mistake at this juncture. It seemed she might love him. He couldn’t risk losing that love, or the promise of it. He dared not exchange a moment for a lifetime.
“Come,” Anthony said hoarsely. “Walk a little farther with me.”
Unprotesting, Harmony allowed Anthony to lead her on down the path. Arms entwined, leaning against one another, they strolled beneath the moonlight. Despite the beauty of the gardens, they were aware of nothing but each other. Yet when the moon reached its zenith and began the downward half of its arc, Anthony forced himself to take stock of the
situation.
“We should start back, my love,” he said at length. “I don’t want to return you too late.”
“I never want to go back.”
Anthony sighed. “I know. But you have to. I want to see you again, so I don’t wish to incur your sister’s … displeasure.” He stopped abruptly and faced Harmony. “You do want to see me again, don’t you?”
She wanted to tell him she never wanted to be separated from him. Instead, Harmony merely nodded. “Please,” she whispered.
Breathing seemed suddenly easier. “I’ll come tomorrow morning to take you for a drive. Harmony, we … we have to talk.”
Harmony experienced a faint prick of alarm and her eyes widened. Anthony spoke again before she could form a question.
“I’m going to have to leave soon,” Anthony said in a rush. “No …”
“I’ve been here too long already. I have to go … go home for awhile.”
“Anthony, why?”
“There are many things I have to take care of,” Anthony replied carefully.
“But you’ll come back?”
The lopsided grin was barely visible in the fading
moonlight. “Of course I’ll come back.”
She didn’t want him to go. And she wanted to ask him a thousand questions. But they could wait, everything could wait, until she had kissed him again. Before he could react, Harmony captured Anthony’s face in her hands and pressed her lips to his.
He was not going to be able to resist her any longer. He was not going to be able to stop himself. The mere fragrance of her stirred his manhood. Her touch, her nearness, was overwhelming. It was with a regretful kind of relief, therefore, that Anthony heard Sneed’s familiar footsteps. He pulled away from Harmony an instant before he heard Sneed clear his throat.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir. But it’s quite late.”
Anthony did not miss the subtle warning in Sneed’s tone. It had been a gamble to come here. Just as every moment he remained in one place was a gamble. He couldn’t afford to overplay his hand.
“We’re coming,” Anthony replied. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Sneed departed at once. Anthony lifted Harmony’s chin with a forefinger.
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
Hands clasped, they followed Sneed to the waiting coach.
Chapter Eighteen
It had been difficult, the next morning, to pry her eyes from sleep. Harmony had vowed to rise early, however. She wanted to be ready the moment Anthony arrived.
From the armoire, Harmony chose a morning gown of pale blue. Anthony loved her in blue. And she liked it when he called her “Lady Blue.” Perhaps she could persuade him to do so again. She secured her hair with a simple ribbon at the nape of her neck, applied a touch of color to her lips, and hurried down to join her sister at the breakfast table.
Agatha did not greet her. “You were out very late last night,” she said without looking up from her plate when Harmony seated herself.
“I had a wonderful time, thank you for asking.” Harmony unfolded her napkin across her lap.
“Don’t be impertinent.” Agatha looked at her sister at last, pale eyes flashing. “Tell me about the
friends he took you to meet.”
Harmony met her sister’s gaze coolly. “They were very nice.”
“Do they have names?”
“Of course they have names.” Something prickled uncomfortably on the surface of Harmony’s skin. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re my sister,” Agatha retorted sharply. “I’m responsible for you. Furthermore, you live in my house and I have a right to know where you go and who you see.”
“I was with Lord Farmington. That’s all you really care about, Agatha.” Harmony watched her sister’s expression register shock. She didn’t care.
“How dare you?!”
“How dare you steal my inheritance?” Harmony let a grim smile touch her mouth as she watched a now-familiar and unbecoming flush rise to Agatha’s face. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that you want me out of your house and safely away from my claims on my own money. You want me well married and gone. And it will be a feather in your cap to have your sister married to a lord. So, why the charade, Agatha?”
“I never!”
“No, you never did,” Harmony continued calmly. “Which probably accounts for you being the way you are.”
Agatha sputtered, but Harmony felt no remorse.
Merely pity. Perhaps it was because of what was growing between her and Anthony, the confidence he gave her in herself, but Agatha no longer intimidated her. Her sister was greedy, mean, spiteful. And pitiable. That was all.
“I ought to order you out of my house!” Agatha spit.
“It would be a pleasure, Agatha. I have nowhere to go, however, since I have no money. Nowhere to go except with Anthony, that is. And I’m sure you would prefer I was married to a man before I went away with him. Imagine the scandal.”
“Yes, imagine it!” Agatha slammed her napkin down on the table. “And imagine the scandal if your Lord Farmington proves to be an impostor!”
Harmony felt herself grow cold all over. She watched her sister’s eyes narrow. “What … what are you talking about?”
Agatha smiled thinly and, with her right forefinger, tapped a letter lying to the left of her plate. “This came only this morning, hand delivered from the Millswich library.”
Harmony’s gaze slid to the piece of paper, gleaming bright white against the dark mahogany of the tabletop.
“You haven’t asked, but I’m sure you’ll be interested to know what the letter says.” Agatha picked it up and scanned the lines. “'In response to your request for information on Anthony Allen, Lord Farmington,'” she read, “'we find no such name listed in our archives.'”
A chill seeped into the very marrow of Harmony’s bones. And with it a cold, hard anger. She leaned across the table and snatched the letter from Agatha’s fingers. Quickly she ran her eyes over the page and began to breathe again.
“'Our information is only local, however, primarily for this county,'” Harmony continued to read out loud. “'Should you wish to pursue your investigation you would be advised to apply to the county of origin.'” Harmony laid the paper down carefully, and slid it back across the table to her sister. “I suggest you do as the letter advises,” she went on, “before you refer to someone as an … ‘imposter.'”
Agatha remained silent, eyes glittering. “Why did you do this?” Harmony asked quietly. The smug smile returned. “I’ve already told you. You’re my ward, my responsibility. I have every right to know Lord Farmington’s background if he wishes, as it seems, to court you. Furthermore,” Agatha said casually as she pushed her chair back from the table, “it would serve Lady Margaret to know something of the gentleman who will be escorting you to the party she is giving in his honor.”
Harmony’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“You heard me.” Agatha plucked an imaginary piece of lint from the bodice of her high-necked, pale gray dress. “Because she values my friendship, Lady Margaret has kindly and generously offered to host an evening in order to introduce you … and Lord Farmington … to our neighbors and friends.”
Harmony managed to stifle the retort that came immediately to her lips. If Lady Margaret was indeed a friend of Agatha’s, no doubt the sole motivation for the party was to parade Anthony in front of the locals. She had half a mind to tell her sister they had no interest in attending such a gathering. But on second thought, the idea appealed to her.
Smiling to herself, Harmony imagined how handsome Anthony would look dressed for such an evening. She saw herself at his side, arm linked through his. She envisioned a sea of smiling faces, admiring the handsome couple. The dream was irresistible.
“When is this … event … to take place, Agatha?”
“Friday next.”
Harmony did a swift calculation. The date wasn’t far off, but Anthony had told her he had to leave soon. Would he return in time?
“I’ll have to speak to Anthony,” she replied at last.
“Is there a difficulty?”
“I … I’m not sure. Anthony told me he had to go away for awhile.”
“Oh?” Agatha question-marked her brows.
“He’s a very important man, Agatha. He has a great many affairs to attend to,” Harmony said defensively.
“One does not say no to Lady Margaret,” Agatha responded archly.
“I’m going to see Anthony soon. I’ll talk to him about it.” Harmony did not look again at her sister, but applied herself to her breakfast. In a matter of moments, she heard the sharp rap of her sister’s footsteps exiting the room.
“Lady Margaret?”
“Yes. Lady Margaret Donnelly. A friend of my sister’s, apparently.” Harmony pulled her feet from the chill water of the little river, bent her knees, and tucked he
r toes under her skirt. She wrapped her arms around her knees. “Agatha told me only this morning.”
“And what is the date?”
“Next Friday.”
Anthony lowered his head and pressed a finger to his lips in a thoughtful expression. He knew he appeared calm to Harmony, but inwardly he quailed. “I told you last night I have to go away for awhile.”
“I know. I remember.” Harmony patted the grassy bank beside her and Anthony sat down. She laid a hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. “You
also said you were coming back.”
“I simply don’t know if I’ll be back in time, Harmony.” He would have to make sure he was away. He couldn’t take the chance of being recognized.
Yet when she heard his response, and he saw the expression on her face, the look in her eyes, something inside him softened to the point of melting. His life, this lie, was so unfair to her. He laid a hand on top of Harmony’s.
“Is this very important to you?” Anthony asked.
“Well, it’s not that it’s important, really. I’m certainly not socially inclined.” “But …?”
Harmony withdrew her hand and wrapped her arms around her knees again. She stared into the water and wondered how much she should say to Anthony, how much of her longing to be with him she should reveal. Then she remembered how she had behaved in his arms last night and chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
Harmony turned her smile on the man beside her. “I was just thinking about how much I want to be with you,” she admitted honestly. “I wanted to tell you that. Also that I would be so proud to meet Agatha’s friends with you at my side. But I thought it might be too forward a thing for me to say. Then I thought about last night.”
“Yes? And?” A smile tugged at the corners of Anthony’s mouth.
“And how … ‘forward’ … I was.”
“Is that what you were? Forward?”
“Yes,” Harmony replied soberly, entering into Anthony’s game. “Until you bent me over backward.”
Anthony guffawed. He slapped his thighs, then turned on his side and stretched out. He motioned with a forefinger and Harmony lay back as well, facing him. His grin softened to a smile.