After a Fashion (9781441265135)

by Turano, Jen

  “You’re not speaking about Mr. Oliver Addleshaw, are you?”

  “I am, and that large bit of trouble hiding under the table is his dog. I’m watching over him at the moment, although, given that he’s just destroyed a good portion of this store, I’m not doing a very good job of watching.”

  Buford let out a whine.

  “You have no reason to whine,” Harriet admonished, looking Buford in the eye. “You’ve been a very bad boy, and Oliver’s not going to be happy with you once I hand him over a bill for all this damage.”

  Buford seemed to realize he was in a smidgen of trouble, because he closed his eyes and refused to look at her. Unable to come up with a suitable way to get him out from under the table, Harriet straightened and looked to the woman with the red eyes. “I really must apologize for all of this, Mrs. or Miss . . . ?”

  “I’m Mrs. Henderson, proprietress of this shop—at least I was until Mr. Bambini informed me I’m being evicted.” With that Mrs. Henderson dissolved into great, heaving sobs.

  Before Harriet could offer a single word of comfort to the distraught lady, Mr. Bambini suddenly beamed at her.

  “You must be Miss Peabody.”

  “How in the world do you know my name?”

  “Mr. Addleshaw told me all about you, and I offer you my congratulations.” He winked. “You are the reason many a young lady is going to be despondent once word officially gets out about the engagement. But enough about that—what do you think of this wonderful space? I should have realized you’d want to look it over once Mr. Addleshaw told you about it, but he neglected to tell me you were planning on stopping by today.” Mr. Bambini sent a pointed look toward Mrs. Henderson. “If I’d have known, I would have made certain there was nothing of a distressing nature to greet you.”

  Harriet barely had time to duck as a piece of china, hurled by none other than Mrs. Henderson, sailed her way. She felt it graze the top of her head, heard a resounding crash and then dropped to the ground and rolled to the right when Mrs. Henderson grabbed a beautiful crystal vase and chucked that in her direction. Shards of glass stung her cheek and she knew she was bleeding, but the ramifications of what Mr. Bambini had stated finally settled in, and she didn’t have the heart to fight back.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Mr. Bambini yelled as he grabbed a plate from Mrs. Henderson and took hold of both her arms, effectively restraining her even as the tiny dog the lady had dropped to the ground began to scamper around their feet. “That is Miss Peabody you’re assaulting, fiancée of Mr. Oliver Addleshaw.”

  Mrs. Henderson began to struggle against the arms that bound her, causing Harriet’s heart to ache as she pushed herself up from the floor. She wiped her hands on her gown, winced when a shard of glass sliced her, plucked it out of her palm, and drew in a steadying breath. She felt something dribble down her face but ignored it as she stepped closer to Mrs. Henderson and Mr. Bambini. “I’m afraid there’s been a grave misunderstanding.”

  Mrs. Henderson stilled as Mr. Bambini sent her a frown. “A misunderstanding? I assure you, there has not. Mr. Addleshaw sought out my services yesterday, telling me of his desire to find his fiancée a most desirable location, and this is the location he decided he wanted to obtain.” Mr. Bambini’s frown turned to a smile. “I must say, he certainly seems to adore indulging you, my dear. Why, for a gentleman of society to actually encourage his future wife to dabble in . . . trade . . . Well, it’s not something I’ve ever seen before.”

  For a second, something warm traveled through her veins, but then reality pushed the feeling away as temper replaced it. “While my fiancé certainly does seem to enjoy indulging me, tell me, Mr. Bambini, was Mr. Addleshaw aware of the fact this particular space was occupied by Mrs. Henderson?”

  “He bought a vase from me,” Mrs. Henderson said. “I was thrilled, thinking he would tell others of his social set about my place, but now . . . I think he only did so to ease his conscience because he knew in order to give you this shop, I’d have to go.” She dissolved once again into a fit of weeping.

  Every pleasant thought and every unlikely dream Harriet had begun to dream died a rapid death. Disappointment, mixed with a healthy dollop of temper, settled over her, and she found she had to take in quite a few deep breaths before she was even able to speak. She looked up and found Lucetta standing a few feet away from her, Millie hovering right behind her. “It seems to me, ladies, that Abigail and Archibald’s plotting is all for naught.” She drew in another breath. “Would you be so kind, Lucetta, to fetch Buford? I’m sure he’ll come out from under the table for you.”

  “Of course I’ll fetch him.” Lucetta moved forward, but paused midstep when Mr. Bambini moved to block her progress.

  “Good heavens, you’re Miss Lucetta Plum—in disguise, of course, but I’d recognize your voice anywhere.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t draw attention to me, sir, especially since I am, as you pointed out, in disguise, and there is a reason for that.”

  Mr. Bambini tilted his head. “But . . . what are you doing here, and from the looks of things, with Miss Peabody?”

  “She’s my friend,” Harriet said, her temper going from simmering to boiling when Mr. Bambini’s eyes widened.

  “I’m her maid,” Millie added when he turned his attention to her.

  “Maids don’t normally speak unless spoken to,” he pointed out.

  Millie grinned. “That’s helpful to know.” With that, she turned on her heel and hustled as fast as she could over the broken glass and out of the shop.

  “This is all very unusual,” Mr. Bambini muttered.

  “And it’s about to get more unusual,” Harriet muttered right back. She watched as Lucetta coaxed Buford out from under the table and then winced when the tiny little dog charged from behind Mrs. Henderson and directly at him, causing Buford to stick his nose into the folds of Lucetta’s skirt and shake uncontrollably. Harriet stepped forward and scooped the tiny scrap of fearsomeness off the floor, nodded to Lucetta, who then began to pull Buford away, taking him down an aisle that wasn’t littered with glass. There was another sound of something breaking, but Harriet ignored it as she turned her attention back to Mrs. Henderson.

  “I cannot apologize enough, Mrs. Henderson, for the distress you’ve been made to suffer over something I had a part in. Allow me to make it up to you.”

  Mrs. Henderson frowned, reached out and took the dog from Harriet, and then reached with her free hand to a table, snagged a lacey doily that was resting on it, and thrust it into Harriet’s hand. “Your face is bleeding.”

  Harriet dabbed at her face, grimaced when she saw the blood staining the lace, then lowered her hand and turned to Mr. Bambini. “You will not be evicting Mrs. Henderson.”

  “Mr. Addleshaw has already paid the rent on this space for the next year, and Mrs. Henderson is behind on her rent by an entire week.”

  “I told you I’d have the money by the end of the day,” Mrs. Henderson said. “It’s just that with Mr. Henderson unable to find work and our two children being so sick lately, well, I haven’t been able to keep everything straight.”

  Harriet closed her eyes and fought to suppress the rage that had begun to course through her veins.

  What type of man was Oliver?

  Could he truly believe there was nothing wrong with casting out a hardworking woman from her business—the Henderson family’s only source of income from the sound of it—because he’d wanted to present her with this prime location?

  Was he really so ruthless?

  The answer immediately flung to mind. Yes, he was, and here she’d been thinking all sorts of ridiculous thoughts, the most ridiculous being that he was actually a kind man underneath all of that arrogance, and that she was developing a small amount of affection for him.

  Dabbing at her face again, she squared her shoulders. “Mrs. Henderson, as I just said, there will be no evicting of you done today or for the next year for that matter. You’ll b
e happy to learn that I’ve decided I don’t care for this spot in the least. It’s much too fancy for what I have in mind. But . . . since my darling Mr. Addleshaw, inadvertently, I’m sure, caused you a considerable amount of distress and pain, the money he gave to Mr. Bambini will be used for your rent this year. I’ll also need you to prepare a bill that I’ll give to my fiancé for all the damage his dog did in your shop.” She forced a smile. “You have my word he’ll pay it promptly.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to make such a completely ludicrous offer,” Mr. Bambini said, going from an indulgent-looking gentleman to an intimidating one in a split second.

  “You can’t allow me?”

  “This is business, Miss Peabody, and business is done between men. I’m sure that you’re a lady possessed of deep emotional feelings, which are currently getting in the way of what, for me, is a lucrative business alliance. I won’t have you coming between me and Mr. Addleshaw, so you’ll need to simply go along with this deal he and I brokered and be happy about it.”

  “I don’t take well to gentlemen trying to order me around, Mr. Bambini.”

  “The deal’s done.”

  “Yes, it is, and you won’t be losing a dime since I just promised Mrs. Henderson the use of that lovely money Oliver gave you toward rent.” She lifted her chin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my darling fiancé and have a little chat with him.”

  She sent Mrs. Henderson what she hoped was a reassuring smile, sent Mr. Bambini a glare, picked up her skirts, and tried to sail dramatically from the shop, her sailing hampered by the pesky fact she had to dodge numerous broken items that littered the floor. She finally made it to the door, pushed it open, and stepped onto the sidewalk, squinting as the sun hit her eyes. Shielding them with her hand, she felt her temper burn even hotter as she caught sight of Lucetta and Millie. They were standing on the sidewalk in the company of a well-dressed lady—that lady being none other than Harriet’s aunt Jane.

  Blowing out a breath, Harriet tilted her head and scanned the sky. “You’re obviously a little annoyed with me at the moment, Lord, given the numerous dastardly situations I keep finding myself in. But if I promise to walk the straight and narrow from this point forward, would you consider making Jane go away?”

  When her aunt didn’t immediately disappear into thin air, Harriet’s lips twitched just a touch as she realized how absurd her request had been. Lifting her chin, she began stomping forward, praying that her aunt didn’t have something of a diabolical nature on her mind.

  15

  Harriet, there you are my darling,” Jane purred when Harriet came to a stop beside her. “You look simply delightful today. Is that a new dress?”

  Ignoring the question, Harriet narrowed her eyes on her aunt. “What are you doing here, Jane?”

  Jane’s green eyes narrowed right back at her. “It’s Aunt Jane, and . . . honestly dear, given the amount of money I spent on deportment lessons for you, surely you’re aware that when someone extends you a compliment, the proper response should be Thank you.” She twirled her parasol around. “And then good manners dictate you respond in kind. What do you think of my dress?”

  Taking a moment to consider her aunt, Harriet came to the immediate conclusion that Jane was looking very well indeed as she preened in the middle of the sidewalk. The muted green of Jane’s gown lent itself well to her pale complexion, and the ornate hat on her head was perched exactly right, showcasing Jane’s expertly styled red hair underneath. The perfection of Jane’s hair gave clear proof that she’d somehow secured the means to hire on a lady’s maid. Overall, she presented a most respectable picture, even if Harriet knew there was next to nothing respectable about her aunt. “Your dress is beautiful and certainly proves that thievery is allowing you to live in style.”

  The parasol twirling came to an immediate halt. “Don’t be snide, Harriet. And for your information, I’ve put that particular business aside, at least for the most part.” She fingered a diamond brooch pinned to her dress before she tilted her head. “You’re not wearing the necklace I sent you for your birthday.”

  Since Harriet had no intention of telling her aunt the necklace was currently residing with the police, she decided her best, and perhaps only option, was distraction. “Surely you, being an expert on deportment, must know that diamonds aren’t to be worn during the day.”

  Jane’s hand dropped from the brooch as her expression turned sulky. She turned from Harriet and gave a wave of her hand, that action summoning a well-equipped carriage. The coachman pulled on the reins, the carriage came to a smart stop, and two familiar-looking brutes hopped off the back and immediately took to looking intimidating as they crossed beefy arms over their chests.

  Suppressing a shudder, Harriet turned back to her aunt. “Dare I hope you’ve had enough of my delightful company and are now going to get on your way?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I came out specifically to speak with you.”

  Dread was immediate. “So this isn’t just an unfortunate happenstance, meeting up with you today?”

  “Good heavens, no. This fortunate happenstance is a direct result of me having you watched around the clock ever since you moved into that house on Washington Square.” She smiled. “I’ve been taxing my mind no small amount to come up with an explanation as to how that came about.”

  “How long have you been having me followed?”

  “Oh, a few years.” Jane turned to Lucetta, who was wobbling a little on her feet, probably because Buford had stuck his nose into the folds of her skirt and was trembling like mad. “I must say, Miss Plum, you certainly gave my handsome Martin over there an unpleasant time of it when you took the reins of that carriage the other day.” She nodded to one of the brutes, who smiled a most gruesome-looking smile back at her, his face anything but handsome. “Your reckless manner of driving caused him quite a bit of aggravation, but because he’s a determined sort, he kept after you and discovered your final destination. Someone could have knocked me over with a feather when I did a bit of snooping and discovered the three of you were living under the roof of one of society’s most respected matrons.”

  Harriet’s sense of dread immediately increased. “May I assume there’s a reason behind all of your subterfuge?”

  “Would you believe I’ve simply been longing to have a lovely chat with my most cherished of nieces?”

  “I’m your only niece, and you’ve never cherished anything except money.”

  Jane’s lips thinned. “Very well, since you obviously don’t care to exchange the expected pleasantries, we’ll get right down to business.” She closed the parasol and used it to point at the carriage. “Shall we make ourselves comfortable and take a few turns about the city while we have ourselves a little chat?”

  “I think I’d prefer chatting out here on the sidewalk,” Harriet countered. “I find carriages a little . . . secluded.”

  “What I have to say is not something I care for anyone to overhear, and besides, I’m beginning to perspire out here in this dreadful heat.” Jane glanced to Lucetta. “Your friends may join us, but you’ll need to leave that beast behind. I’m certainly not going to make myself uncomfortable by having all of us squeeze together so that the dog can ride about the city in style.”

  Harriet’s teeth clinked together. “Since, given your tenacious nature, you won’t leave me alone until you’ve had your say, I will join you, but Lucetta and Millie will not.”

  “And you, Harriet,” Lucetta said through teeth that seemed to be as gritted as Harriet’s were, “will only be taking a ride around town with Jane over my dead body.”

  Jane wagged a finger in Lucetta’s direction. “Famous actress or not, my pet, that can be arranged.” She nodded to one of her men, who immediately pushed aside his jacket, revealing the handle of a pistol.

  “Enough of your threats, Jane,” Harriet said before she caught Lucetta’s eye. “You and Millie need to take Buford back to Mrs. Hart’s house, a
nd no, I don’t want to hear any arguments about that,” she added when Lucetta began muttering. “I’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll never see you again if you go off with Jane,” Millie said, speaking up in a voice that had taken to quivering.

  Harriet smiled. “Jane’s not going to hurt me, Millie. She needs me for something, and I won’t be able to fulfill that need if I’m dead.” She looked at the watch pinned to the underside of her sleeve. “However, to be on the safe side, I’m going to limit our little chat to one hour, so if I’m not back at Mrs. Hart’s within that hour, feel free to contact the police.”

  That pronouncement earned her a rapid hustle over to the carriage as Jane took a death grip on her arm and certainly didn’t seem as if she intended to let go anytime soon. Looking over her shoulder at her friends—both of whom were now almost completely blocked from view by the two thugs—she opened her mouth to assure them she’d be fine one more time, but Jane suddenly shoved her, leaving Harriet no choice but to stumble into the carriage in order to avoid a nasty fall. Landing hard on the seat, she rubbed her elbow and watched while Jane, after speaking in a hushed tone to her driver, settled herself on the opposite side right before the carriage lurched into motion. A heavy thud sounded behind Harriet, leaving her little doubt that Jane’s men had rejoined them, making the idea of a quick escape, if Jane turned unusually nasty, infeasible.

  “Now see, isn’t this much cozier than lingering on the street?” Jane asked, smoothing a gloved hand against the red crushed-velvet upholstery.

  “Most people don’t consider abduction to be cozy.”

  “It’s rather irksome to discover you still possess such a flair for the dramatic,” Jane said with a roll of her eyes before she leaned down and pulled a very large, very black cat out from under the seat. She settled it on her lap and began stroking it, although the cat didn’t seem to be enjoying it much, since it kept letting out little hissing noises every other stroke.

  Harriet frowned. “I thought you loathed cats.”