Lady Blue

by Helen A Rosburg

  Teeth gritted and eyes flashing, Harmony pulled on the mare again. And again the animal sidestepped. This time, however, Harmony was prepared. She leaped from the block in the direction of the mare’s sideways movement and miraculously managed to land astride. Anthony broke into fresh gales of laughter.

  “Now what’s so funny?” Harmony demanded. Her fury mounted as Anthony bent double, holding on to his sides.

  It took a few moments for Anthony to regain control of himself. “It’s just that … that …” He had to pause to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I was going to ask you sometime if you were ever frightened when I pointed my pistol at you. Now I realize what a foolish question that would be. You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”

  “What do you think?” she retorted.

  “I wonder how I ever managed to kidnap you at all. I guess you must have let me, huh?”

  Harmony allowed herself a tight smile. “Perhaps. And perhaps someday I’ll have the opportunity to show you how good I am with a pistol and find out if you’re ever frightened.”

  Anthony’s laughter erupted anew. It was brief.

  “Hey, where are you going? You’re supposed to wait for me!”

  Anthony vaulted into the saddle and gathered his reins even as he kicked his mount into a gallop. It was several minutes before he managed to catch up with the gray. Eventually, with a smug smile, Harmony pulled her horse down to a walk. Anthony cleared his throat.

  “I, uh, realize I’m only the kidnapper, but would you mind heading to your left, toward those hills over there? Even though I warned your sister in the note not to call out the gendarmes, she didn’t much look like the type to be trusted.”

  Without response, Harmony turned off the road into the direction Anthony had indicated.

  “Thank you,” he said dryly. “Now, would you mind if we rode at a little faster pace? Where we’re going isn’t far, but I’ll feel better when we get there.”

  Harmony urged her mare at once into a swift gallop and left Anthony temporarily behind again. When he had caught up with her they continued, side by side, to lope across the wide meadow that stretched away on either side of the road. They slowed to crest the line of low hills, and when Harmony saw what lay beyond them she was pleasantly surprised. She pulled her mare to a halt and gazed down at the tree-lined streambed.

  “Is that where you’re taking me?”

  Anthony nodded. “It’s nice and secluded and not too far from your sister’s home so I can take you back as soon as it’s dark.”

  “Are you anxious to get rid of me?” Harmony bit her tongue, but the words were already out.

  Anthony cocked an eyebrow and resisted the urge to smile. “Let’s just say I made a promise to return you. And I never break a promise.”

  Before Harmony could wonder at the reply, Anthony turned his horse and started down the steep, narrow path that led to the stream below. Harmony followed and urged the mare to a faster pace as Anthony disappeared behind the thick, hanging branches of a weeping willow. She rode right behind him into the cool, green shadows.

  A frog plopped noisily into the water and a frightened hare darted into a hole along the stream bank. The mare dropped her head to drink and Harmony slid from her back. She found herself standing to her knees in soft, fragrant river grass.

  Anthony joined her when he had tethered the horses then stretched out on the bank with his arms folded behind his head. When his eyes drifted closed, Harmony allowed her gaze to caress his long-limbed form.

  Sunlight filtered through the branches of the willow and dappled the smooth skin of his face and forearms. He looked so handsome, so innocent, a half smile on his lips. Harmony felt a little guilty for the hard time she had given him that morning. She felt guiltier as she let her eyes slide a little further down his body.

  Anthony had crossed his legs at the ankles. His tight black boots and even tighter breeches accentuated his muscular thighs. And something else. Something that had made her knees weak and her head spin last night. It was doing so again. In a desperate effort to turn her attention elsewhere, she picked up a pebble and tossed it into the stream.

  Anthony rolled over and supported himself on one arm. “Would you mind answering a question?”

  Curious, and glad he had spoken at last, Harmony shook her head. “Go on.”

  “Tell me what a beautiful young woman is doing locked away with her ugly sister in an even uglier old tomb of a house.”

  Harmony couldn’t resist her smile. “As a matter of fact, I hadn’t lived there very long. You … abducted me on my very first day.”

  Anthony looked surprised. “Your very first day. Well. I’d heard from my … sources … that you’d recently come off a ship from America. But I had no idea you’d only just arrived.” He shook his head. “What prompted you to leave your country and come to England’s fair shores?”

  Harmony’s smile faded. “My parents died,” she replied quietly. “I had nowhere else to go.”

  “I’m sorry.” Anthony, too, had quickly sobered. He sat up with his arms clasped around his knees. “Then what happens, but on your first day in England you’re robbed and kidnapped.” He rose abruptly and walked a few paces to stand at the edge of the stream.

  Harmony, however, had seen the look in his eyes before he turned away. “Are you trying to tell me,” she inquired softly, “you’re sorry about that, too?”

  Anthony hesitated, then turned to meet Harmony’s gaze. His smile had returned. It was gentle.

  “Let’s just say … I’m not sorry I got to know you.”

  She had absolutely no idea how to respond. His warmth and sincerity had taken her completely by surprise. She wasn’t sure she could have replied anyway, for the uncomfortable lump that had formed in her throat. She tried to swallow it away. And saw something moving fast out of the corner of her eye.

  Before Harmony could react, it had brushed her lips and landed on the left side of her nose. She screamed.

  “Harmony!”

  “Get him! Get him!” she shrieked, and whirled as the insect buzzed around her head. “Get it away from me!”

  Startled and off balance, Anthony took a blind swing. His boots slipped in the mud and he toppled over backward. There was a loud splash.

  Horrified, Harmony stared at the spot where Anthony had disappeared beneath the water. Until he came up, sputtering and spitting and loudly cursing. Then she laughed. Laughed until tears ran from her eyes and it became difficult to breathe. And she felt her own feet begin to slip from beneath her.

  “Oh, no … Anthony! Nooooo!”

  “Laugh at me, will you?” Maintaining his grip on her ankles, Anthony pulled Harmony into the water with him.

  “Anthony!” Harmony gasped for air and pushed the hair from her eyes. “Anthony, how dare you?!”

  “Very easily, my love.” Anthony laughed and dunked her again.

  This time Harmony did not scramble for the surface. She kicked to free her feet from the hindrance of her petticoats and dove for the bottom. She closed her eyes to the mud-riled water and felt for Anthony’s feet. Then she tugged. Hard.

  Anthony slipped back into the water, arms flailing as he went under. Harmony surfaced and pulled herself onto the bank. Laughing, she waited for him to emerge.

  Anthony came out of the water and onto the bank in a single motion. He shook his head and spattered droplets of water in all directions.

  “Well, I guess that teaches me, once and for all, not to mess with you, Lady Blue.” He jumped to his feet and tried unsuccessfully to brush the dirt from his wet breeches. They had now become so revealing Harmony had to look away.

  “How about a bottle of wine to keep us warm while we dry out?”

  Harmony looked back in Anthony’s direction, trying to keep her eyes on his face. “For breakfast?”

  Anthony glanced up at the sun. “No, for lunch. How about some of that, too?”

  Dismayed, Harmony realized it was noon already. Where had the time g
one? She watched him unpack his saddlebags. He certainly was well prepared, she mused. Almost as if he had kidnapped a young lady before. Had he? She was surprised at the stab of jealousy that accompanied the thought.

  “Here you are, mademoiselle.” Anthony leaned over, bowing, to hand her the metal cup of white wine. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find more elegant stemware, but

  Cook broke it all in a fit of rage.”

  Harmony laughed as Anthony sprawled in the grass beside her. As he had on the evening before, he raised his glass in a gesture of salute.

  “To a lovely day,” he said softly. “To a lovely, perfect day, my sweet, sweet Harmony.”

  Their cups clinked together in the silence.

  Though the wine was making her head swim, Harmony felt compelled, out of pride, to drink to Anthony’s last toast.

  “Again,” he said, touching his cup to hers, “let us drink to your masterful horsemanship.”

  “Thank you.” Harmony ducked her head, feeling a blush flood her cheeks.

  “May I ask how and where you learned to ride?”

  The entire situation was so unreal Harmony was grateful to grab onto something solid and comforting: her past. Nestling her cup in the grass to keep it upright, she sat up a little straighter.

  “Before … before I came to England, when my parents were alive, we lived on a ranch in the American West.”

  “A ranch!” Anthony exclaimed. “Cattle or horses?” “Both.”

  “Excellent. And the breeds?”

  Did he really care? Harmony had to admit a fire had lit in his gaze when she had mentioned the livestock.

  “My father started with Longhorns, but shortly before he died he imported a Hereford bull and a couple of heifers.”

  “Aha. Sturdy English stock from the hills of Herefordshire.”

  There was genuine warmth and excitement in his tone and Harmony couldn’t help but respond to it.

  “Yes, indeed, and they proved to be extraordinarily sturdy. My mother and I continued to breed Herefords after Daddy died because we were so impressed by the efficiency with which they convert their feed to beef. We even did some crossing with the Longhorns, and the results were amazing.”

  Anthony wondered if he had just actually felt his heart do a flip-flop in his chest. He reached for Harmony’s hand and squeezed it.

  “Let me guess. Higher quality steaks with better marbling?”

  “How on earth did you—?”

  “I … I, uh, have a keen interest in livestock,” he said, reluctantly releasing Harmony’s slender, delicate hand and turning away. “What about the horses?” he continued. “Did your family breed them as well?”

  “Not initially. We purchased our working stock from other ranchers. But then Daddy became interested in harness racing.”

  “The new sport that’s taken your country by storm?”

  “Exactly. Don’t tell me you know all about Standardbreds as well.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? Wasn’t that breed founded by another English animal?”

  Harmony was truly impressed. “Yes, the great Thoroughbred racehorse, Messenger. I believe the trotters, Standardbreds, were begun with a cross between Messenger and a Narragansett Pacer.”

  “You’re so right. And your knowledge is impressive.”

  “As is yours,” Harmony replied, returning the compliment. The conversation, she suddenly realized, was as heady as the wine, and she momentarily pressed cooling hands to her cheeks.

  It wasn’t that she’d never had a conversation with a member of the opposite sex before. There had been ranch hands with whom she was casually friendly, and they certainly had a lot in common to talk about together. And there had been young, well-educated men of good families she had met while traveling with her mother and father. But never before had topics in common, education, and good looks been all wrapped up in a single package.

  Furthermore, as long as she was being honest with herself, Harmony had to admit that the “bad boy” element, the hint of danger, was even more titillating in real life than in the dime novels she loved to read.

  More curious, and compelled to draw Anthony out even further, Harmony regarded him with a quizzical expression, right forefinger lightly tapping her upper lip.

  “Tell me, Anthony,” she said slowly. “I’m curious. How did you come to find out about harness racing and the Standardbred breed? Have you an interest in horses?”

  If she only knew, Anthony silently mused. But that was the point. She didn’t. And it had to remain that way. Still, however, he knew he should give her an answer.

  “It avails a man to be well mounted, does it not?” he replied at length. “Especially a man in my position.”

  It was not exactly the kind of response she was fishing for, but Harmony wisely let the matter drop.

  Mere moments later, Anthony abruptly stood up and brushed off the seat of his breeches. “May I get you anything else?”

  Harmony gazed at the remains of their picnic lunch and shook her head. “No, thank you. If I eat any more I’m afraid I might pop and you’ll have nothing to return to my sister.”

  The reminder was sobering. To both of them. It struck Harmony as absurd, however, that she felt dismay at the thought of returning to Agatha. She had been kidnapped. Robbed and kidnapped. She was absolutely mad to sit in the willow’s pleasant shade and pretend she was having a picnic and polite conversation with an attractive gentleman from the upper echelons of society. He was a common thief! Surely she should wish to end her ordeal and go home. Shouldn’t she? Home. The very thought made her shudder.

  Harmony pictured the dimly lit corridors; dark, dusty drapes; and heavy furniture. How could that ugly stone house be preferable to this fragrant green sanctuary beneath the drooping willow limbs? It wasn’t. Nor was Agatha’s acid-tongued company preferable to the presence of the handsome, charming, and apparently intelligent man at her side. Thief or not.

  No, it was not absurd to want to remain where she was. Her only dismay was in the fact the day had so swiftly waned, bringing her unlikely idyll to an end. As stars began to wink overhead and Anthony gathered his scattered belongings, Harmony brushed a tear from her cheek.

  Chapter Nine

  Summer twilight drained the light from the valley. Dusk settled softly over the green hillsides and stole the definition from the feathery branches of the willow. Birdsong had faded away and the only sound was the rushing of the river against its banks.

  Harmony’s heart had squeezed as she watched Anthony, intent on memorizing every feature. She would undoubtedly never see him again as long as she lived. The thought constricted her throat.

  What a strange day it had been. What a strange man Anthony Allen seemed to be.

  There were a good many things Harmony found unusual and incongruous about Anthony Allen. An interest in, and knowledge of horses was one thing. But how had he come to know so much, and care so much, about cattle? Surely that was not the usual area of interest for a common thief. Harmony, however, strongly suspected that Anthony was not merely a common thief.

  While pondering her handsome abductor, Harmony realized the darkness had deepened and a crescent moon now rode in the sky. Somewhere in the hills a fox yipped and howled. “It’s getting late. I guess I’d better saddle up the horses.”

  “Yes,” Harmony replied dully. “I guess you’d better.” She watched him hold out his hands to her.

  His grip was strong and firm and warm. Harmony let him pull her upward. He did not let go of her hands. His expression was sober as he gazed into her eyes.

  Harmony didn’t know whether to cry or to give in to the shivering arousal she felt being so close to Anthony. Nor did she know what she wanted. Why did he look at her with such intensity? Not knowing what else to do, Harmony closed her eyes. She was completely unaware of the parting of her lips, or her body straining forward, closer and closer to his. She was aware of nothing until she felt him release her hands and place his palms to her cheeks.


  “No,” Anthony groaned. “No, Harmony. It’s wrong. I … can’t …”

  But he was too near. Harmony had never felt anything so physically powerful as her attraction to this man. She had never been so aware of every inch of her body, and the secret, private parts of her body. She had never wanted to kiss a man as badly as she wanted to kiss Anthony Allen. She surrendered to her longing.

  The touch was searing. They came together not gently, but with all the pent-up passion that had built between them. Anthony’s lips were crushed against hers, his palms pressed flat to her cheeks. Her body became a pillar of fire.

  It was over before the fire could consume her. Anthony pulled away almost violently and held her at arm’s length.

  “We have to go,” he said hoarsely. “Now.”

  In the next instant she was alone and trembling while Anthony saddled the horses. Her heart raced and she could scarcely catch her breath. Her body ached and tingled all at the same time. She felt as if she might faint.

  But she did not. Somehow she managed to mount the gray mare, gather the reins, and follow Anthony out of the moonlit valley. As it had been at the inn, Harmony did not look back. She was afraid emotion would overwhelm her, but when they reached the meadow they broke at once into a gallop. She could only concentrate on the ride.

  Anthony had told her they were not far from Agatha’s house, and he had been correct. They reached the road, crossed it, and soon reached the dark, familiar silhouette of the forest surrounding Agatha’s home. Harmony’s muscles tensed.

  The chestnut mare picked her way through the trees and all too soon they arrived in the clearing. Anthony turned in his saddle.

  “This is as far as I go.”

  It took a moment for his comment to register. “But … but the money. Don’t you have to go and … and pick it up someplace?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Anthony smiled and leaned forward, resting an arm on the mare’s neck. “Let’s just say … the pleasure of your company was enough. But don’t let it get around!” He laughed as he straightened in the saddle and picked up his reins. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation.”