“Yes, I promise,” he swiftly replied, glancing over her head toward the corridor. “I have to talk to you.”
“And I you.”
Anthony laid a finger to her lips. “Promise,” he murmured. He drew away as Agatha marched into the foyer.
Harmony did not miss the angry glitter in her sister’s narrowed eyes. She returned Agatha’s glare, not at all surprised when her sister turned her attention to Anthony and a wide smile of greeting bloomed on her lips.
“Lord Farmington, how lovely to see you again,” she gushed.
“You’re looking well, Miss Simmons,” Anthony replied smoothly and raised her proffered hand to his lips.
“Thank you. Thank you, as well, for escorting me to Lady Margaret’s little gala. I can’t imagine what possessed my coachman.”
Harmony resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Anthony was not as circumspect.
“Perhaps he is still unnerved by the unfortunate incident with the bandit,” he said as he offered Agatha his arm. “The event must have been traumatic indeed.”
Harmony could hardly believe Anthony had said what he did. She avoided his gaze when he turned to walk Agatha through the front door. She had difficulty controlling the tug at the corners of her mouth. If only Agatha knew.
Followed swiftly on that thought came another, the one that had plagued her all day. What did she herself really know? And did it matter? Was it going to matter? She didn’t think so. Not now, not having seen him again. She allowed the smile to form as she followed Anthony and her sister to the coach.
Agatha chattered endlessly all the way to Lady Margaret’s country manor. Bemused, Harmony simply took it all in. She was happy merely to be in Anthony’s presence, to be within the circle of the glow that seemed to emanate from him. She fingered the diamond pendant at her throat, a legacy from her mother, and absently smoothed the folds of her satin gown. The spiral curls she favored bounced against her bare shoulders when the carriage jolted through an occasional rut. She hardly heard what Agatha was saying. Until the subject of Anthony’s home came up once again.
“Really, Lord Farmington,” she heard Agatha say. “You must stop being so mysterious. You’ve told us so much about your home, your cattle, and horses. But we still have absolutely no idea where exactly your home is!”
Harmony’s eyes widened and she sat a little straighter.
“It’s no mystery, I guarantee. It’s a manor, much like the others in my area.”
“But what area?” Agatha persisted. “Are you in the Lakes District?”
“A bit farther north, actually,” Anthony responded promptly.
“Are you near Yor—?”
“Ahh, look. It appears we’ve arrived.”
Harmony turned obediently to the window and saw the myriad of lights shining from the windows of the Donnellys’ country home. A circular drive led to a porte-cochere, where another carriage stood to allow its passengers to exit. Several other coaches were lined up to one side of the brick-faced manor.
“It appears to be a somewhat modest turnout,” Agatha said. “Lady Margaret feared that would be the case. So many of her friends have gone to their country estates for the season.”
“Just what one would expect at this time of year,” Anthony responded politely. “Nevertheless, it was most kind of her to make the effort on my behalf. I’m most appreciative, believe me.”
Harmony watched her sister blush and fan herself with a lace handkerchief she pulled from the reticule attached to her wrist.
“As we are appreciative of your presence in our little community, Lord Farmington,” Agatha replied.
Thankfully, Sneed appeared to assist Agatha and Harmony from the coach. Anthony joined them, offered each an arm, and proceeded toward the house. Wisely, Harmony avoided catching his gaze.
Anthony tried not to hold his breath as the three of them entered the Donnelly House foyer, but failed miserably. He glanced about hastily, noting the Lady’s tastes ran to the baroque, a style he abhorred, and took a slow, deep breath in order to make the appropriate and exceedingly polite responses to his hostess’s gushing greeting.
“How good of you to come, Lord Farmington,” Lady Margaret purred when introductions had been made.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Anthony turned his brilliant, crooked grin on Lady Margaret, who appeared to blush as easily, and unbecomingly, as Agatha, and on her husband, who cared not at all and whose own flush appeared to be entirely alcohol related. He blinked uncertainly, mumbled something unintelligible, and moved away. In search of another drink, Anthony was fairly certain.
With a single, disapproving glance in her husband’s direction, Lady Margaret returned her attention to Anthony. She fingered the ropes of pearls draped over her generous bosom.
“You must allow me to introduce you to our friends, Lord Farmington, Miss Simmons. You, as well, Agatha. I believe there are some people here you’ve not yet met.”
“You’re too kind, Lady Margaret,” Agatha murmured.
“Indeed, far too kind,” Anthony echoed. “I do not wish to distract you from your duties as hostess of this lavish and lovely evening.”
Harmony was amused to see Lady Margaret’s cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink. She was gratified as well to see so many feminine gazes turned in Anthony’s direction. Interested and appraising gazes. She licked her lips like the cat whose owner ran the dairy and tightened the arm hooked through
Anthony’s elbow.
Distractedly, Anthony patted Harmony’s hand where it lay lightly on his forearm. He had scanned the guest list, it was true, but one could never be completely sure of anything. Sneed was right. He was taking the biggest risk of all tonight. This single evening could change everything. And he didn’t care. Anthony glanced down at the crown of Harmony’s shining head.
She was worth it. If he harbored the slightest, lingering doubt, it had vanished as if it had never existed. She was the one. He would tell her everything. Soon. He had to. But not before he was absolutely certain of her, sure she was his for all time. He was almost there.
In the meantime, he simply needed to exercise care. He wanted to be the one to tell her. He wanted no unpleasant surprise to mar the beauty of what was being created between them. Anthony’s eyes swept his surroundings.
Not a single familiar face. There were names he recognized, of course, as Lady Margaret introduced them around the room. But it was as he had reassured Sneed; he had been very, very careful so far. There was no compelling reason to fear that anyone at all would recognize him. For awhile longer, at least, the charade could continue.
Close to Anthony’s side, Harmony sensed him begin to relax as they moved about, meeting and greeting Lady Margaret’s guests. She was glad of the attention everyone paid to Anthony. It minimized their curiosity about her, and she had to answer very few personal questions of her own. It was obvious most people knew who she was, where she had come from, and why. She was scrutinized, of course. But Anthony, Lord Farmington, drew most of the attention. And she found his answers to all the polite, but clearly curious inquiries, fascinating. He avoided giving out any concrete information as smoothly as he had evaded all Agatha’s questions.
“So your interest lies in cattle, Lord Farmington?”
“And horses.”
“Any breed in particular?”
“My eye is not for any one breed, but for the particular qualities of the breed I happen to be looking at, at that moment.”
Or: “Farmington … Farmington … so familiar, eh? But I can’t quite place it.”
“The queen’s realm is vast, her subjects many, and I am but one.”
A little later: “Northumberland, did I hear someone say? You’re from that northern district?”
“No, but not far, not far at all.”
“Then you’re—”
“—in the perfect place to graze cattle, I assure you.
They grow fat and happy on my lands.”
It was almost a
game to him, Harmony mused, as they moved on from group to group, chatting amiably, never stopping too long in one place. His life was like a disassembled puzzle, with never enough pieces to put the whole together. She wondered how he would respond if she, herself, asked him a direct question.
“Anthony …”
“Yes, my love. What would you like? Are you hungry?”
“Well, yes …”
She couldn’t deny it, the sumptuous buffet looked inviting. Guests had lined up to sample the various dishes, and Harmony’s stomach rumbled. She let Anthony guide her toward the long table.
“Anthony, what would you answer if I asked you—?”
“Plate, my love?”
“Thank you. What would you say if I …” Harmony paused to smile at the woman next to her, who seemed to have taken a sudden interest in their conversation. She turned back to Anthony and lowered her voice as he spooned a small mound of black caviar onto her plate.
“What would I say if you asked me what, my beautiful lady?”
“If I asked you where you live. Exactly.”
Anthony leaned down so his lips were very close to Harmony’s ear. “I’d tell you,” he whispered, “that it would be paradise on earth should you ever consent to live with me there as my love.”
Her heart leapt within her breast. The laden plate trembled in her hand and her cheeks warmed. “Anthony, what … what do you …?”
“Later, my love. Later. As I promised.”
“Well, well, well.” Brows arched, Lady Margaret turned from the handsome couple, heads bent together as they whispered intimately. “It seems to me, at least, Agatha, that you are well on your way to having a nobleman in your family. No matter how vague he may be about his background, there is nothing vague about his attraction to your lovely young sister.”
“No, there isn’t, is there?” Agatha sniffed, lips pursed. “And the attention he pays her in public is unseemly.”
“They do seem quite … familiar.”
“I do apologize for my sister’s behavior, Lady Margaret, I …”
“Pish tosh.” Lady Margaret waved a hand dismissively. “The important thing is that we pin down precisely who the gentleman is. Although the fact that he is, indeed, a gentleman, is without question. His clothes and his manners are impeccable. His education is obvious. Nevertheless, there are certain things
we absolutely must know.”
“Yes! Yes, of—”
“Ancestry, for instance,” Lady Margaret forged on. “The source of his wealth, not to mention its approximate size.”
“Oh, yes … yes.”
“What are the results of your inquiries so far?”
“I’ve only heard from Cumbria to date. Nothing. I’m awaiting two other responses.”
“Curious,” Lady Margaret said. “Curious that neither you nor your sister even know where he lives. Does it not concern you?”
“Absolutely, Lady Margaret!”
“Still, some eligible and quite wealthy men are very closemouthed about their personal details, their histories. You understand.”
“Of course I do.”
“It is the price the wealthy aristocracy must sometimes pay.”
“I understand perfectly, Lady Margaret.”
“Still and all, we must persist in our efforts. Especially in light of the obvious interest the two young people appear to have in one another.”
Agatha resorted to a vigorous nod, bobbing the curls at her temples.
“It would be scandalous, absolutely scandalous to discover, for instance, his was an impoverished title.
That he is a bounder, a rogue, preying on an innocent young woman with wealth of her own.”
“Insupportable!” The very idea made her quake.
“Indeed. So we shall persist in our efforts, shall we not?”
“Oh, yes, Lady Margaret. Yes. Certainly!”
With a condescending smile, the lady moved on. Agatha glanced back over her shoulder at Harmony and her suitor.
Yes, without a doubt she would learn all there was to know about Lord Farmington. She would find out if he was suitable. Or not. And if not, well …
Agatha smiled thinly. She would either be well rid of her sister, with a titled brother-in-law as icing on the cake. Or Harmony could languish with a broken heart. She didn’t really care which.
The hour was late. Harmony had had more than enough of polite, idle conversation. She was eager to be alone with Anthony, as he had promised. And to learn the answer to her question. As he had promised.
In anticipation of their imminent departure, she had visited Lady Margaret’s overdecorated powder room. Re-entering the parlor, she looked about for Anthony.
He was nowhere to be seen. She watched two or three couples head toward the grand foyer, where the Donnellys stood to bid a good-evening to their departing guests. She spied her sister standing by the buffet table stuffing a petit four furtively into her mouth, and then gazed out the open double doors to the terrace. Anthony was not in sight and Harmony turned around to look elsewhere.
The bloodcurdling scream froze her in her tracks.
Chapter Twenty-two
Pandemonium reigned. Secondary cries and gasps followed the scream. Women grabbed their escorts. A servant dropped a tray of glasses and an elderly woman fainted. Harmony picked up her skirts, as if prepared to flee, and cast about desperately for a sign of Anthony. At last she caught sight of him.
He was entering the salon through a second set of doors at the far end of the room that led to a terrace at the side of the house. His expression was sober, his pace rapid. Harmony started in his direction.
At that moment, Anthony looked up and saw her. He slowed his pace perceptibly and smiled. Harmony could easily tell it was forced. She hesitated, nearly stumbling, and almost fell into his arms.
“What’s happened, Anthony? What’s happened?”
“I have no idea. Stay here and I’ll find out.”
Before Anthony could take another step, however, a middle-aged matron flew from the foyer into the salon, hands pressed to her cheeks. Lord and Lady Donnelly followed on her heels.
“My bracelet! My diamond bracelet,” the woman sobbed. “It’s gone!”
Harmony couldn’t help it. As icy fingers clutched at her heart, she raised her eyes to Anthony’s. He did not meet her gaze. She knew, however, that he was well aware of her glance. His hand tightened briefly on her elbow. Then he left her and walked straight to Angus Donnelly’s side.
“I’d like to help,” he said quietly.
Donnelly blinked at him stupidly. Lady Margaret put her hand comfortingly on the shoulder of the distraught woman.
“I’d be grateful for your aid, Lord Farmington. But what can you do?” Lady Margaret asked. Her voice was unsteady.
He turned to the weeping woman. “When did you last know for certain you were wearing your bracelet?”
“I … I’m not sure, really. Sometime during the evening I … I glanced down at it. But I didn’t notice it was gone until I went to bid Lady Margaret good night.” A fresh spate of sobs ensued.
“At least we know it’s here, somewhere in this house. Don’t we?”
The woman pressed a handkerchief to her eyes and nodded dolefully.
“Have you been anywhere else besides this room?”
“The … the powder room.”
“Would you be so kind?” Anthony said over his shoulder to another woman who stood nearby.
Without a word, she hurried to do his bidding. Anthony looked around the room, his glance taking in every remaining guest.
“I’m sure that what happened is simple mischance with a faulty clasp,” Anthony said. “If everyone would be good enough to look around them, we’ll find the bracelet in no time.”
Harmony remained standing stock-still. A diamond bracelet. Missing.
Yet Anthony had hurried to help.
Or was it that he had not expected the woman to notice her jewelry was missing unt
il much later? Later, when he would have been safely away?
Harmony’s dinner turned to lead in her stomach. Almost as if in a dream, she watched the people around her walk slowly about the room, eyes downcast, searching for the missing bracelet. Was it an exercise in futility? Was there a thief among them who was merely trying to throw them off the scent? She raised her eyes with difficulty when Anthony moved to her side.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured.
“Do you?” Harmony surprised even herself by the steel in her voice. A heartbeat later, watching
Anthony’s expression, she regretted her tone. It was too late. He turned on his heel and walked away from her. Conspicuously, it seemed to her, he started to search the floor. Harmony turned away.
And found herself face-to-face with her sister.
“How traumatic for poor Mrs. Darrow,” Agatha said at once. She fingered the cameo at her throat. “I can’t imagine the distress she must feel, losing something so valuable.”
Harmony glared at her sister, unblinking. “No, Agatha. You’re right,” she said in a level, icy voice. “You cannot.”
“Well! There’s no call to be rude!”
“To the woman who has stolen my inheritance? No, of course not. How silly of me.” With grim satisfaction, Harmony watched her sister flounce off. She’d had enough of Agatha, her greed, her mean-spiritedness, and poisonous temper. And she was very, very afraid for Anthony.
The hunt continued, although with noticeably less enthusiasm. Many of the remaining guests were finally departing. Harmony wondered what Anthony would do now. Then she heard him.
“I’ve found it!”
Everyone left in the room turned in his direction. Mrs. Darrow gave a small cry of delight when she saw the bracelet dangling from Anthony’s fingers.
“Oh, Lord Farmington … thank you! Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. But the pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Darrow,” he replied gallantly.
“I feel as if I should give you some reward.”
“Finding the bracelet, and returning it to you, is reward enough. Believe me.” His words were for Mrs. Darrow. But as he spoke, he looked past her. Right into Harmony’s eyes.
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