After a Fashion (9781441265135)

by Turano, Jen

  “Good heavens, Oliver,” Harriet exclaimed, scooping up Precious and earning a purr in the process, “I didn’t know you had an elevator.”

  “It wasn’t my idea.” He grabbed hold of the lever that opened and closed the gate and gave it a good shove, but after the gate opened, Mr. Blodgett refused to get out.

  “There’s something wrong with that cat, and I’m not getting out of here until it’s gone from this house,” Mr. Blodgett said, backing slowly away until he came to a stop against the elevator wall. “In fact, perhaps it would be for the best if you sent me up to the fourth floor until that vindictive creature is gone.” He held out a hand. “It tried to bite me when I was feeding it fish, and then it chased me here when I stopped feeding it.”

  Harriet hugged Precious to her. “She probably just smelled the scent from the fish on your gloves and thought you had more to give her, but if either of you knows who Mrs. Fish is, I’ll take Precious back to the woman right this minute.” She smiled. “That’s why I thought it would be a good idea to feed her fish since her human mother is named Fish.”

  “You have a very unusual mind, Harriet,” Oliver said.

  “Yes, yes, Miss Peabody is extraordinary,” Mr. Blodgett said, “and Mrs. Fish lives over by Mrs. Hart on Washington Square. So you can just drop the little darling off on your way home.” The butler pressed more tightly against the back elevator wall. “Now, if someone would be so kind as to close the gate, I’d like to put a bit of distance between myself and Precious.”

  Oliver grinned and closed the gate, but before Mr. Blodgett pulled up the lever, he took a step closer to the door. “I almost forgot. Silas was watching the house earlier, sitting on his horse across the street. I was going to summon the authorities to run him off, but then Miss Peabody arrived. When I went back out to check on him, he was gone.”

  “Was the carriage I came in gone as well?” Harriet asked, a distinct note of hope in her tone.

  “It was,” Mr. Blodgett replied. “And while I’d love to know what’s going on at the moment, I fear my nerves aren’t what they used to be, so I’ll bid both of you good day.” With that, he shoved up the lever and the elevator began slowly ascending.

  “Was Mr. Blodgett talking about Silas Ruff?” Harriet asked after Mr. Blodgett disappeared from sight.

  “I’m afraid he was, but Silas isn’t anyone for you to worry about. He and I had words this morning and decided to discontinue our association. Since he’s watching the house, it’s clear he’s still bearing ill-feelings toward me, but . . .” Oliver shrugged. “You and I were discussing our association, and I’m hopeful you’ll come to the realization that you’ll be safest with me, and that I truly will make certain your aunt can’t hurt you.”

  “I’m not worried about her hurting me,” she muttered.

  “And that right there is why I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  Hugging Precious closer, Harriet looked at him for a long moment, and then, to his relief, she nodded.

  “Wonderful.” He moved to take her arm but stopped when Precious let out a hiss. “Shall we get you back to Mrs. Hart’s house so you can begin getting ready for our night out at Delmonico’s?”

  “I forgot all about that.”

  “I’m not surprised. You’ve had a very trying day. I do hate to add more to that, but . . . I probably should tell you something.”

  Harriet edged an inch away from him. “They serve more than eight courses at Delmonico’s?”

  “No, or they might, but . . . are you worried about that?”

  “I only know the proper cutlery use for eight courses, and even that might be a stretch.”

  Oliver smiled. “I’ll make certain that eight and only eight courses are served.”

  “That would be appreciated and makes me feel a little better.”

  “How would you feel if I told you the duke arrived early in town and he and his family will be joining us tonight?”

  Harriet’s eyes widened and she turned a little pale, but then she lifted her chin. “I suppose I’d feel grateful that Abigail’s put me through my paces in regard to table manners, because apparently, we’ll be dining with a duke tonight.”

  17

  There, all done,” Millie said, draping a borrowed strand of Abigail’s pearls around Harriet’s neck before she stepped back and looked Harriet over with a critical eye. “I must say, even though you look very well indeed, I’m of the belief that the gold gown would have been far nicer than this blue one you’ve chosen.”

  Harriet tilted her head. “Weren’t you listening to that lesson Abigail gave us, the one concerning what was appropriate to wear to a place like Delmonico’s compared with having dinner at a private home?”

  “Honestly, Harriet, it’s a little difficult to keep up with all the lessons Abigail keeps throwing our way. Why, my poor mind can barely take in half of it, so no, I wasn’t listening. But it would have been more challenging for me, as your personal maid, to have laced you into a gown with an even smaller waistline than the one you’re currently wearing, and . . . well . . . I have to admit I’m curious now as to whether or not I’d be able to get your waist to eighteen inches instead of twenty.”

  “And since I’m expected to eat eight courses tonight, I’m perfectly fine wearing a gown where you’ve only had to squeeze, instead of smash, my inner organs together.” Harriet grinned. “But, squeezing aside, considering I’m supposed to be blending in with society tonight, I shudder to think what the reaction would be if I arrived at Delmonico’s in a gown that bared my shoulders.”

  Millie returned the grin. “I bet it would create a huge fresco.”

  “I think the word you meant was fiasco,” Lucetta said, as she waltzed into the room. “And yes, if Harriet were to go against the social expectations of dressing for dinner at a restaurant, it would create a fiasco, and would most likely end up with her being marched out the door.”

  Lucetta smiled at Harriet. “I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know you look absolutely lovely and will have no reason to fear you’ll be escorted out of Delmonico’s by any of their always handsome doormen.”

  “Their doormen are always handsome?” Harriet asked.

  “I think it’s a requirement to get hired there,” Lucetta said. “But speaking of handsome, I came to tell you that Oliver’s just arrived.”

  “If I remember correctly, only a few days ago you made the claim that Oliver was a hideous and disagreeable sort.”

  Lucetta laughed and sat down on a dainty chair covered in pink upholstery, crossing her ankles, which brought immediate attention to the fact she was missing her shoes again. “No man who has such a delightful grandfather can be completely disagreeable. And, since Oliver also takes after Archibald in regard to his appearance, it would be silly of me to continue to proclaim that he’s hideous, when clearly, that isn’t the case.”

  Not particularly caring to dwell on Oliver’s handsomeness, Harriet decided a change of subject was needed. “Speaking of Archibald, have you heard any further mentions of plotting?”

  Rolling her eyes, Lucetta shook her head. “Abigail and Archibald are being annoyingly stealthy at the moment, but I do believe they’re most likely still hatching plans. Although, I have recently gotten the distinct impression you’re not the only one in their beady sights, Harriet.”

  “What an overactive imagination you have, Lucetta,” Abigail said, breezing through the door before she hurried over to Millie, who’d picked up an atomizer and was aiming it at Harriet. “My dear girl, don’t even consider spraying Harriet again with that perfume. A lady must never smell as if she’s doused herself with scent.”

  Setting the atomizer aside, Millie plopped her hands on her hips. “I was just telling Harriet that you’re throwing too many rules my way, but . . . if you’d allowed me to style Harriet’s hair tonight, instead of bringing in that hairdresser, well, I wouldn’t be trying to spritz her with anything because I’d still be arranging her hair.”
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  “And since Oliver and Archibald have arrived to escort us to dinner, it’s fortunate I did bring in a hairdresser—otherwise we’d be late.” Abigail smiled. “You did a very nice job getting Harriet dressed, Millie, but I don’t want you to become accustomed to being a lady’s maid, since I have other plans for you.”

  Millie’s mouth made an O of surprise. “Goodness, you’ve turned your beady eye on me now, haven’t you.”

  “I do not have a beady eye, and there’s no time to discuss your situation further, given that the Addleshaw gentlemen are waiting.”

  Harriet’s palms immediately turned moist underneath the silk gloves that covered her hands. “Are you certain this is a good idea, going through with everything, given that my aunt is lurking out there somewhere?”

  Abigail stepped to Harriet’s side and surprised her when she pulled her into a firm embrace and gave her a good squeeze. “My dear, I willingly admit I was appalled by the story you told me regarding your life with your aunt, but know that Jane Peabody is no match for me. I will not turn you, Millie, or Lucetta out of my house simply because some confidence artist is threatening to worm her way into my life, and . . . my safe.” Abigail stepped back. “I, my dear Harriet, have been told I’m a force to be reckoned with, so don’t you worry about me.”

  “You shouldn’t take Jane lightly, Abigail. She’s a distinct threat, and I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

  “And you should believe me when I tell you I’m more of a threat to Jane than she is to me, especially when people I’ve come to care about are put in harm’s way.” She took hold of Harriet’s arm, and with Millie and Lucetta walking beside them, they left Harriet’s bedroom, descended the stairs, and made their way to the drawing room.

  “ . . . and I still don’t understand why you and Abigail feel it’s necessary to come with us tonight, Grandfather,” Oliver was saying as Harriet lingered in the doorway, unable to get a good look at him since his back was turned.

  Archibald, wearing a formal jacket paired with an intricately tied cravat, crossed his arms over his chest. “Abigail is her chaperone, Oliver, so of course she has to go tonight. As for me, you’re tossing the poor girl to the wolves, my boy, and you’re going to need some help. Why, Miss Dixon, Everett’s dear friend, is known to be an absolute nightmare, and don’t forget, you’re also sitting down with a duke. I met the man once, granted it was years ago over in London, but I still recall he had a somewhat intimidating presence.”

  “That certainly is going to calm those nerves our darling Harriet must be experiencing at the moment,” Abigail said, walking into the room. Oliver turned at her words, and the sight of him in his dark evening clothes left Harriet at a loss for words.

  His black hair was combed away from his face, for once not rumpled in the least, and his eyes were twinkling at Abigail as she presented him her hand, which he immediately brought to his lips and kissed. He released his hold on Abigail, lifted his head, and then . . . his mouth dropped open and he simply stared at Harriet.

  She felt heat settle over her face, but she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from Oliver, nor could she seem to find her voice.

  “This is certainly an encouraging turn of events,” Abigail said smugly, her smugness breaking through the fog that had settled over Harriet.

  Knowing she was blushing from the top of her head to the tips of toes encased in a lovely pair of shoes that exactly matched her dress, Harriet’s breath hitched when Oliver began heading her way. He stopped directly in front of her and took her hand, placing a kiss on it as he studied her face.

  “You look exquisite this evening, but what happened to your scratch?” he asked even as he lowered her hand but, strangely enough, kept possession of it.

  “Thank you,” she managed to get out of a mouth that had turned dry. “And Lucetta fixed my face for me, since she’s incredibly competent with a touch of theatrical paint.”

  “I must say, my wards have turned out to be very talented indeed,” Abigail said, with a satisfied nod in Archibald’s direction. “I haven’t been so impressed with young ladies for years. It’s been an absolute delight having them come into my life. I must admit that after my Charles died, and my issues with my daughter and grandchildren remained unresolved, I do believe I took to wallowing. I spent too many days buried in this dreary home simply waiting for the end to find me.” She lifted her chin. “That changed the second these delightful young ladies entered my life and gave me a purpose.”

  “She and Archibald really are including us in their mad plotting attempts,” Lucetta said, stepping into the room with Millie by her side, although by the grin on her face, it was clear she wasn’t exactly worried about the plotting. “Heed me well, Millie, if we’re not careful, we’ll find ourselves embroiled in something concerning, just like Harriet.”

  “I’m not exactly certain what embroiled means, Lucetta, but I’ve misplaced my dictionary in all the hectic business of getting Harriet ready.”

  Oliver released Harriet’s hand and walked over to her friends, kissing first Lucetta’s hand, then Millie’s. “I must say, Miss Longfellow, if you were responsible for Harriet’s hair, you deserve everyone’s apology for doubting your competence.”

  Millie’s face turned pink. “Although I have been practicing with the hot tongs, I wasn’t allowed near Harriet’s hair.”

  “Only because you burned off one side of your own hair while you were doing that practicing,” Harriet said with a shudder. “That’s why you’re wearing a cap.”

  “Honestly, my darlings,” Abigail said with a wag of her finger in Harriet and Millie’s direction. “Surely you’re aware that it’s hardly proper to discuss disasters that occurred in the middle of your toilettes in the company of gentlemen.”

  “On the contrary,” Oliver argued with a grin. “I find it completely charming that Miss Longfellow was so diligent in regard to her new position as lady’s maid that she actually tried out the hot tongs on her own head before attempting anything on Harriet’s.”

  “Don’t encourage her,” Abigail said with a sniff, even as Millie sent Oliver a cheeky wink.

  Oliver returned the wink, and right there and then, Harriet’s knees turned weak. He was so agreeable at the moment, so very different from what she’d first thought about him, that she couldn’t help her knees going weak, or her mouth turning dry, or her heart . . .

  “Well, since I didn’t have my maid stuff me into this dress for no reason at all,” Abigail proclaimed, pulling Harriet rapidly from thoughts of weak knees and dry mouths. “We should be off, and let us hope for the best.”

  “That’s an encouraging thought,” Lucetta said before she padded up to Harriet on feet that were still bare and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Now, don’t worry too much. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “Of course she will,” Millie exclaimed as she joined them, although given that her nose had taken to wrinkling, Harriet wasn’t exactly reassured. “Just remember to use all the lessons Abigail and Archibald have taught you, don’t insult Miss Dixon, and I’m pretty sure you’ll need to curtsy when you’re introduced to the duke.”

  Biting her lip, Harriet looked at Oliver. “Are you certain you really want to go through with this, because there’ll be no turning back in the midst of dinner . . . and . . . am I supposed to curtsy when I’m introduced to the duke?”

  Instead of answering her, Oliver was staring at her lips, his staring having the immediate effect of additional heat traveling up her neck to settle once again on her cheeks. “Do I have something on my face?” she finally asked when he continued staring.

  Blinking, Oliver seemed to shake himself before he smiled. “Forgive me, I was . . . What was the question again?”

  “I asked if you really wanted to go through with this.”

  “Since all of this was my idea in the first place, of course, and besides, what could go wrong?”

  “I don’t think I should answer that,” Harriet muttered before she took h
is offered arm, said a last farewell to her friends, and followed Abigail and Archibald out of the room.

  As the carriage trundled down the street, Harriet smoothed her gloved hand against the seat, this one done up in blue velvet, before she caught Oliver’s eye. “How many carriages do you have?”

  “I’m not exactly certain, a good dozen or so, but I had this one brought out tonight because it can seat six comfortably, and requires two footmen on the back.” He smiled. “I thought you’d feel more at ease if you knew I’d already taken steps to keep you well protected. And to relieve your mind about Millie and Lucetta, I’ve hired men to watch Mrs. Hart’s house.”

  Feeling an immediate urge to hurl herself once again from his carriage, if only to escape from his far-too-considerate nature, Harriet resisted the urge and summoned up the only thought left in her mind. “I couldn’t help but notice that your footmen were wearing livery and had powdered their hair.”

  Oliver frowned. “Have they really powdered their hair?”

  “They have, and I’m fairly certain, given that Gladys, one of the ladies I used to work with, kept company with a footman, you pay them extra for using powder.”

  Oliver looked over at Archibald. “Do you remember if I asked to have the footmen powder their hair when I hired on additional staff after my house was completed last year?”

  “The agency probably suggested that idea to you, given your position within society,” Archibald said. “But, if you ask me, having your staff powder their hair is a little . . . ostentatious.”

  “From what I’ve heard,” Harriet added, “it’s quite the bother for the men, but . . . if you really think it’s necessary, you might at least notice the effort they’ve gone to on your behalf.”