Lady Blue

by Helen A Rosburg

  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.

  Worse, she could not get away from her. Even now. Her parents’ final curse was to give her Harmony’s guardianship. But was Harmony grateful for the roof over her head? Was she mindful of the extra responsibility her older sister had to shoulder? No! Just look at the spiteful, evil way Harmony treated her, the way she talked to her. How could she be that way when she had it all? Looks, personality. And, now, a charming, handsome suitor. It wasn’t fair.

  But things were going to get better. Oh, yes, they would. She already had firm, legal control of Harmony’s inheritance. There was absolutely nothing Harmony could do about it. She would be dependent on her older sister forever. Unless, and ideally, she found a husband. Which it seemed she had. But it

  wasn’t fair.

  Anthony Allen, Lord Farmington, was like Harmony: golden, blessed. He, too, had it all: charm, looks, money. He and Harmony appeared to be perfect for one another. They would wed, live happily ever after. Have shining, golden children.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Harmony couldn’t have it all. She wouldn’t allow it.

  “Agatha.” Lady Margaret cleared her throat. The foyer was empty. Even her husband, Angus, had shuffled unsteadily off to bed. “Agatha, your sister and Lord Farmington are waiting for you. Isn’t that your carriage?”

  “Oh … oh, yes. But I … I must have a quick word with you.”

  Lady Margaret’s only reply was a lift of her eloquent brow. It was all the encouragement Agatha needed.

  “Earlier this evening you advised me, quite rightly, to exercise caution where my sister was concerned.”

  “Yes, yes …”

  “You pointed out how scandalous it would be to discover that Lord Farmington’s title was impoverished, for instance. But what … what if it turned out to be something even worse?”

  “Like what?” Lady Margaret prodded impatiently. “Whatever do you mean, Agatha?”

  “I mean, what if he turns out to be something worse than a bounder? What if we were to discover he’s a … a thief?”

  “Oh, Agatha. It’s late. I—”

  “No, listen, please. Especially in light of what happened here tonight.”

  “You don’t mean Alicia Darrow’s—”

  “That’s exactly what I mean!” Agatha said excitedly.

  “But he’s the one who found it.”

  “Yes, yes! But perhaps merely to deflect suspicion from himself. Think about it, Lady Margaret. Remember I told you how he made his introduction to us by returning Harmony’s sapphire ring?”

  Lady Margaret nodded.

  “Don’t you find it a bit odd that he, or his coachman as he claims, was able to spot such a trifling bauble from a carriage seat?” Agatha had to pause to catch her breath. Her excitement was growing exponentially as she warmed to her tale. “What if he’s the one who stole it? What if he’s the one who held up our coach? And what about all the jewel thefts that have occurred since? Ever since Lord Farmington started coming ‘round to court my sister!”

  Lady Margaret was suddenly a bit wider awake. “Agatha, you don’t really think …”

  “You yourself have never heard of a Lord Farmington. Neither has anyone else. Why not? Perhaps because no one by that name actually exists! Why else is he so mysterious about his background and where he lives?”

  Lady Margaret exhaled noisily. “You just may have a point, Agatha dear,” she murmured in a conspiratorial tone. “You just might have a point.”

  Agatha’s fervor had produced beads of perspiration on her brow. She dabbed them away with her handkerchief. “I’m so very glad you agree, Lady Margaret.”

  “Oh, I do. I do. We can’t let you, or your ward, be taken in by a common thief! We must expose him! Discredit the impostor!”

  My sentiments exactly.” Agatha pressed a hand demurely to her furiously pounding heart. “But how, Lady Margaret? I fear I haven’t your resources.”

  “You do now,” the older woman pronounced with finality. “Angus has connections. We’ll use them. If there is, indeed, a Lord Farmington, we’ll find out. And if there isn’t, well …”

  The two women shared a long, slow smile.

  “Thank you so much, Lady Margaret,” Agatha said as she backed toward the open door. “Thank you …”

  “What in the world is keeping Agatha so long?” Harmony was uncomfortable. She and Anthony had scarcely exchanged two words since they climbed into

  the coach.

  Anthony leaned forward slightly to look out the window. “Here she comes now.” He sat back and took Harmony’s hand and tightened his grip when she tried to withdraw her fingers.

  “I have to talk to you, Harmony,” Anthony said. His voice was low, his tone urgent.

  “Anthony …”

  “Tonight. As I promised.”

  His words took her back to the start of the evening. She remembered how glad she had been to see him, how much she had looked forward to being with him. More importantly, she recalled her realization that the answers to her questions were not nearly as significant as her feelings for Anthony. Hadn’t she told herself it didn’t matter who, or what, he was, as long as she could be with him?

  The warmth of Anthony’s grasp sent a sensation up her arm she knew would soon spread through her entire body. She knew how helpless, how vulnerable she would become.

  Helpless and vulnerable because she did love him. No matter what. Even if he had taken that woman’s bracelet, or was responsible for any of the other jewel thefts in the area. She loved him, and the emotion was overpowering. It was bigger than any other fact, any other reality.

  “All … all right, Anthony,” Harmony whispered as Agatha approached the coach.

  “Thank you, my love.” Anthony squeezed her hand. “Wait an hour after you arrive home. Then meet me … your sister’s coachman left, didn’t he?”

  Harmony nodded.

  “Then meet me in the stable.”

  A meadowful of butterflies took flight in Harmony’s stomach.

  Anthony released her hand when Agatha climbed into the coach. She sat down opposite them with a smug, satisfied smile.

  Her expression sickened Harmony. But she wasn’t going to let it ruin her moment. Or the moments to come. As the coach rolled forward, she closed her eyes.

  Soon, very soon, she would be in Anthony’s arms.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Harmony stood by her bedroom window and buttoned her shirt slowly. Lights shining from the parlor windows illuminated the hedge below her. They would be extinguished soon, she knew, when Mrs. Rutledge made her final rounds. She waited until they went out, then unlatched her window and pushed against the restraining vines. The gap she created was only inches wide, but it let in the scent of the summer night:
the surrounding woodland, the decaying debris on its floor, the sweet green of new growth. She listened hard, but heard only the faintest of sounds: a night bird, the stirring of leaves in a breeze.

  Anthony was out there. Perhaps he already awaited her in the stable. It had been nearly an hour. Her stomach tightened.

  Harmony backed away from the window and cinched the belt at the waist of her cotton skirt. She pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall down her

  back. She brushed it until the curls softened into waves.

  Almost an hour, but not quite. She didn’t want to take any chances. Harmony sat on the edge of her bed.

  What was he going to say to her? How was he going to answer her questions? Did she truly mean it in her heart of hearts when she told herself it didn’t matter?

  She only knew one thing for sure at the moment. Every nerve in her body tingled. Her blood seemed to hum through her veins. She didn’t think she had ever felt more alive.

  In only a few more minutes she would be with Anthony. She would be in her lover’s arms. No matter what he had to say, no matter who he turned out to be, nothing could dim the anticipation she felt.

  The minutes ticked away. The house was silent. Harmony rose and extinguished her lamp. She looked out her windows, but saw no other light shining from the house out into the soft, summer darkness.

  Fortunately, Agatha apparently no longer thought it necessary to lock Harmony into her room at night. She opened her door and peered into the corridor, but saw absolute blackness. Not a single sconce remained lit. Yet she now knew the way by heart.

  The front door creaked and was too familiar a sound in the house. Harmony chose the terrace doors.

  Once out into the night, she breathed a small sigh of relief. A half moon cast a silvery light on the garden and its path around the side of the house. Harmony picked up her skirt and hurried around the corner.

  The gravel drive crunched beneath her feet. Although she knew it sounded loud to her ears alone, her heart pounded wildly in her breast. She cast a look over her shoulder at the dark, silent house. Not so much as the flicker of a candle or the creak of a shutter in the night wind. She headed for the stable.

  Was it fate that had sent Agatha’s coachman on his way? Harmony could not help but think so. She felt, in fact, as if fate guided her every footstep this night. One way or another she was walking into the future, regardless of what it held, by walking into Anthony’s arms.

  She could see the stable doors now. Was one of them ajar?

  It felt as if her heart might pound right out of her throat. Her footsteps faltered with the sudden weakness in her legs.

  “Anthony?” Harmony called softly.

  There was no sound from within the stable. She took a cautious step forward and pushed the partially open door. It groaned.

  “Anthony?”

  Had he not come after all? Her heart pumped frantically with a new emotion and she moved hastily into the stable.

  One of the carriage horses stamped a foot and nickered. She heard another shake its head, heard the rustle of straw. The fragrance of horsehide, hay, and dust filled her nostrils.

  And then the scent of Anthony as he took her in his arms.

  “My love … my Lady Blue …”

  Harmony’s surrender was instant and total. She had no control over her body, her mind, her emotions. She belonged to him, completely, and sagged into his arms.

  Anthony knew he must restrain himself. But it was hard, so hard. She was in his arms, where she belonged. And he knew from her response what her answer would be. Yet he couldn’t resist. Only a few kisses. A few …

  Harmony felt his lips at her neck, nibbling. He inhaled the perfume at the hollow of her throat, and his tongue tickled the oh-so sensitive flesh there. Her head fell back. His kisses ranged upward, finally reaching her mouth. Her lips parted to receive him.

  Their passion for one another was total. Each body yearned for the other, strained against the other. Harmony was dazed by emotion and sensation. She would have died, happily, in his arms, and gave a little moan of protest when she felt him push her away.

  “Anthony …”

  “Sssshhh, my love.” He ran a finger over her lips, savoring the wetness of them, and smoothed a strand of hair from her forehead. “I must talk to you … I must. I have something to ask you.”

  Harmony merely looked at him, breast heaving, as she struggled to control her breathing. He held her at arms’ length and she gripped his forearms. She felt the strength there, the tension. Finally, she nodded.

  “Come. Come sit next to me.”

  Harmony let him take her hand and lead her to a bale of straw. She sat obediently beside him, still clutching his hand.

  “I think you know what I want to ask, Harmony,” Anthony said softly.

  Did she? Yes. In her heart she knew. She nodded, slowly.

  “Tell me first,” Anthony said. “Tell me first what you are certain of.”

  “I am certain that you love me,” Harmony replied in a barely audible voice.

  “And?”

  Harmony’s thoughts flew back to the time he had urged her to say nothing until she was sure. She allowed the shadow of a smile to touch her lips.

  “And … I love you in return.”

  Anthony expelled a long sigh. He believed her. More, he believed that she loved him enough.

  “I loved you almost from the first moment I saw

  you,” he said at length.

  “I know,” Harmony whispered.

  “I have made mistakes. Great mistakes.”

  “You made them because you love me.”

  Anthony’s heart swelled. Tears threatened to unman him. “I would die for you, Harmony.”

  “I know that, too,” she murmured. “As I would die for you.”

  “Then … then you’ll … marry me?”

  He seemed so boyish suddenly, so unsure. She loved him so much.

  “Of course I’ll marry you, Anthony. Of course.” She reached up to stroke his cheek.

  Anthony captured her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. He closed his eyes. He was the luckiest man on earth. He didn’t want the moment to end. But there was more. He wasn’t finished yet.

  Though she smiled, a tear slipped down Harmony’s cheek. She felt his love, the intensity of it. She had absolutely no doubt of it. She was incomparably blessed. Regardless of what else he might have to tell her.

  “Harmony, I …” Anthony swallowed, his mouth dry. “I have to ask something of you. It’s a request, a very great one. I want you to consider carefully before you answer me.”

  Harmony’s brow furrowed slightly. This was not exactly what she had expected. Again, however, she

  nodded. “Go ahead, Anthony. Tell me what it is.”

  He braced himself. There was nothing for it but to forge ahead.

  “I know it’s every girl’s dream … indeed, her right … to have a beautiful wedding. A gown, flowers, champagne. But I … I have to ask you to forego all that.”

  “Those things aren’t important, Anthony,” Harmony replied truthfully. “What matters is our love for each other. What causes us to wish to marry. The trimmings of the wedding itself are not the cause.”

  “Then you wouldn’t mind a … a quiet, private ceremony?”

  “Not at all.”

  Anthony drew a long, deep breath. “I have one more request.” When Harmony remained silent, he continued. “I’d like for us to wed … as soon as possible.”

  In spite of the hour, the location, and the strangeness of Anthony’s proposal, Harmony felt very calm. Nothing seemed to surprise or disturb her. Was it because of the depth of her love for him? It didn’t matter. It simply was.

  “How soon do you think that will be?” Harmony asked quietly.

  “How soon can you be ready?”

  Harmony thought for a moment. “I’ll need a day or two to tell my sister and pack my things.”

  “How about three days? That wil
l give me time to make arrangements on my end.”

  Harmony smiled gently. “Three days it is.”

  Anthony took her face in his hands. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she replied simply.

  Anthony took another deep breath. “In spite of the fact that you don’t … you don’t really know who I am?”

  “You mean you’re not really Anthony Allen, Lord Farmington?”

  “Oh, I’m most certainly Anthony Allen,” he replied swiftly.

  “But are you, or are you not, properly addressed as ‘Lord'?”

  “I am titled. That is the truth.”

  Harmony felt as if her brain was reeling within her skull. Was he telling her the absolute truth? She had no doubt of it. She simply didn’t know if he was telling her all of the truth. He could very well be a lord and … something else. The title could be an impoverished one and he’d had to resort to … Harmony banished the thought.

  “And your home, Anthony. Are you able to tell me now, at last, where you live?”

  Anthony gripped her hands tightly. “This is a night of truth. Simply not all the truths of my life. Suffice it to say I do, indeed, have a home.”

  There it was, right out in the open. Truth, but not all of it. Yet Harmony had already confronted it in her heart.

  “No matter who you are, or what you are … I love you.”

  Anthony’s eyes closed briefly. “You are the most remarkable woman I have ever known,” he breathed. “I knew from the first you were the only one who could ever be for me. It has been my constant prayer that you would return my love. And now …”

  “Now?”

  “Now my prayer has been answered. And I must ask you the most difficult thing of all.”

  Her sense of calm flowed into serenity. She was loved and in love. It was all that mattered. Nothing could disturb the peace of her soul.

  “Go ahead, Anthony. Say, ask, what you must.”

  Coming into the evening, he hadn’t thought he could love her more. He had been wrong.

  “I … I am not Lord Farmington, although I may be correctly addressed as ‘Lord,'” he said quickly. When Harmony started to speak, he put his hand gently over her mouth. “I know you already guessed that. But neither am I … whatever else you might think. Will you trust me? Please?”