After a Fashion (30 page)

Oliver smiled. “I imagine you were adorable back then, dressed in a circus outfit and performing for the crowds.”

“I don’t know how adorable I was, given that I was at that
somewhat awkward stage. However, I truly adored the circus and loved performing because it gave me a feeling of freedom, but . . . that was a long time ago. As most people discover, real life doesn’t allow much freedom.”

He had the means to live a life of freedom, but he’d never thought about his wealth that way. It was an intriguing idea, though. He could enjoy sailing around in his yacht, showing Harriet different places, and . . .

Shaking himself, he forced aside those disturbing thoughts and tried to concentrate on what Harriet had imparted about her past. Strangely enough, her past didn’t bother him at all, although the thought of her aunt hurting her was enough to set—

“Now that I’ve had time to think about matters, I do believe, in the interest of keeping your reputation safe and my aunt away from you, we’re going to have to part ways and abandon our original plan.”

“That’s a ridiculous idea,” was all he could think to respond.

A spark of temper clouded her eyes. “It’s not ridiculous at all, and it is the only way I can think of to keep you safe from my aunt.”

He suddenly felt as if he’d been walloped over the head with a heavy object. “Are you saying that—although your aunt has threatened to blackmail you, spewed hateful things about your mother, taken to calling you ‘my pet,’ and sent you a necklace you’re fairly certain she was planning to use to frame you—your biggest concern at the moment is
my
safety?”

“She’s a very disturbed woman, Oliver. It wouldn’t be fair for me to continue on with you. Jane has information about me that she won’t hesitate to use against you if she comes to the realization I’m not going to be giving in to her demands in the end.”

The sheen of tears now present in Harriet’s eyes almost undid him. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips, a flash
of satisfaction flowing over him when the tears immediately disappeared as her eyes widened and he heard her take a swift intake of breath.

“I think you’re forgetting one very important fact,” he said quietly.

An arch of her delicate brow was her only response.

Lowering her hand, even though he longed to kiss it again, he smiled. “I, my dear—and you’ll notice I didn’t call you ‘my pet’—am Oliver Addleshaw. I can guarantee you I’m far more dangerous than your aunt, and I am your best chance of getting away from her. I promise you, here and now, that I will protect you, along with your friends, and if Jane so much as looks at you in a threatening manner, I’ll see to it that she never looks at you again.”

“What’s wrong with you? Why wouldn’t you get yourself as far away from me as possible?”

Before Oliver had a chance to answer, the sound of someone shouting reached them, someone who sounded exactly like Mr. Blodgett.

“Oh no, he’s lost the cat,” Harriet exclaimed, snatching her hand from his before she jumped to her feet and raced out of the room.

It took Oliver only a few seconds to catch up with her, and when he did, the sight that met his eyes had him grinning. Mr. Blodgett was standing inside the private elevator Oliver’s architect had convinced him was not a luxury but a necessity in a house so large, his wrinkled face pressed against the closed metal gate. The cat was sitting directly in front of the gate, licking its paw in what appeared to be a very satisfied manner, as if she’d personally been responsible for the troubling situation at hand.

“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

T
here, 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.”

“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.