After a Fashion (22 page)

“But . . . what about your parents?” Abigail asked softly.

“Harriet doesn’t have any parents,” Millie said, edging back into the room with the dictionary still firmly in place on her head. “She’s an orphan, just like me, and she had an unconstitutional upbringing.” Millie nodded to Archibald, which sent the book tumbling to the ground. “Lovely to see you, Mr. Addleshaw,” she said before she bent to fetch her book.

“You might want to check your book while you have it handy, Millie,” Harriet said. “I’m fairly sure I didn’t have an
unconstitutional
upbringing.”

“Did she mean
unconventional
?” Abigail asked.

“Don’t tell me,” Millie grumbled, opening the dictionary and immediately beginning to flip through the pages. “How am I to learn these words if I don’t look them up and see their proper spelling and definition?”

Harriet felt something squeeze her hand and realized it was Archibald.

“I am sorry, my dear, that you weren’t able to enjoy the benefits of having a loving family surrounding you.”

For a second, tears stung her eyes, but then Harriet blinked and summoned up a smile. “There’s no need for you to feel sorry for me, Mr. Addleshaw. As I told your grandson when he expressed concern regarding the idea I’d never tasted ice cream before, one can’t truly miss what one has never experienced.”

“Please, call me Archibald, and I must say, it’s very refreshing to meet a young lady who looks at life so practically.” His eyes suddenly began to gleam with something Harriet found a little concerning. “It was a very fortunate day indeed when Oliver made your acquaintance. You are exactly what my grandson needs in his life.”

Harriet’s feeling of concern increased. “Forgive me, Archibald, but you do remember Oliver and I aren’t actually engaged, don’t you?”

“But of course.” He gave her hand another squeeze right before he exchanged an all-too-significant look with Abigail.

Harriet’s mouth dropped open. “Good heavens . . . the two of you are . . . plotting.”

“You’re only figuring that out now?” Millie asked, raising her head from her dictionary. “I knew minutes after making Abigail’s acquaintance that she was up to something, and . . . I found
unconventional
and it exactly explains your upbringing.” Millie’s lips curved into a grin. “
Unconstitutional
doesn’t explain you at all, unless you’ve been participating in something that goes against our country’s constitution.”

Harriet returned the grin, but before she could question Abigail and Archibald further about the whole plotting business, Lucetta glided into the room, dangling what appeared to be a script from her hand.

“I’m finished, and . . . Oh, hello, Mr. Addleshaw. Delightful to see you again.” Lucetta beamed as Archibald rose from his chair and presented her with a charming bow.

“Miss Plum, delightful to see you as well, and . . . my . . . you’re looking . . . lovely today.”

Harriet’s grin widened as she got a good look at her friend. Once again, Lucetta’s head was sporting a variety of braids, she was wearing a pair of trousers that had seen better days, and her feet were bare. “Got bored going over your lines again?”

“Why would you assume that?” Lucetta asked.

“Your hair is braided on one side, but the other . . . Are those beads woven into the strands?”

“Never mind about her hair,” Abigail said, pushing herself out of her chair before she proceeded to glare Lucetta’s way. “You’re wearing trousers, a circumstance that is not remotely acceptable when entertaining guests.”

“I always wear trousers when I’m learning my lines. As for entertaining guests, I had no idea Mr. Addleshaw would be visiting, but I’m sure he’ll forgive my lack of suitable apparel, given that he seems to be such an understanding sort.” She sent Archibald a smile, which he immediately returned before he settled that smile on Abigail.

“I think it might be for the best if I went to check on how dinner preparations are going.” He looked at Lucetta again, grinned, shook his head, and quickly left the room, something that sounded suspiciously like laughter trailing after him.

“You’ve run off poor Archibald,” Abigail said as she wagged a finger at Lucetta. “And here I was coming to the belief that you, out of all three ladies, weren’t going to need as much work, but now . . .”

Lucetta arched a perfect brow. “I, being one of the most renowned actresses of the day, don’t need fixing, Mrs. Hart. But since my clothing of choice seems to offend you, I’ll go change.”

“You being a renowned actress is exactly why you need some work, but we won’t discuss that quite yet.” Abigail smiled at Harriet. “Harriet deserves all of my attention at the moment, and since I’m sure you and Millie want to help her, both of you will join us tonight at this very table. We’re going to use this dinner as a way to teach all three of you how to eat a proper eight-course meal.”

Lucetta began backing away. “While that certainly sounds fun . . . I do believe I haven’t quite learned all of my lines just yet, so you’ll have to forgive me and excuse my absence tonight. Besides, no one expects an actress, even a renowned one, to know what an oyster fork looks like.”

Harriet looked at the place setting in front of her. “Which one
is
the oyster fork?”

“It’s the one sitting on top of the spoon,” Lucetta said before she snapped her mouth shut and began fiddling with one of her braids.

“And why does it have to be placed on top of this large spoon instead of just sitting on the table like the rest of the cutlery?” Harriet asked slowly.

“I’m . . . sure I have no idea,” Lucetta muttered.

“The only reason the oyster fork has to be placed on top of that spoon is because some society lady decided it would be a clever way to separate the snobs from the masses.”

Looking up, Harriet caught sight of Oliver, in the company of a distinguished-looking gentleman with brown hair, stepping into the dining room. Annoyance was swift, but it wasn’t his appearance that annoyed her—more that her pulse had begun racing the moment she laid eyes on him.

They had a business arrangement, nothing more, and Harriet knew her attraction to the man would not serve her well in the end. The last thing she wanted to endure was a broken heart, which meant she was going to have to push her attraction aside
and strive to maintain a strictly business relationship with him. Rising to her feet, her annoyance increased when she discovered her traitorous knees had gone all wobbly. “Oliver, this is a surprise. What are you doing here?”

Oliver’s long legs ate up the distance that separated them, and before she knew it, he was standing right next to her. “I thought I’d stop by and see how my fiancée was fairing. Any luck with that charming look I asked you to perfect?”

The wobbling immediately stopped. “You asked me to practice an
adoring
look, not a
charming
one.”

“By the scowl you’re currently directing my way, I’m assuming you haven’t been practicing very diligently.”

“Is this really something we should be discussing while in the presence of that gentleman standing by the door?” she muttered.

Oliver blinked and turned, gesturing to the man to join them. “I do beg your pardon, Everett. I fear Harriet’s scowls have caused me to misplace my manners.” He waited until the gentleman reached his side and then began a round of introductions. “Harriet, this is Mr. Everett Mulberry, a friend of mine since childhood. Everett, this is Miss Harriet Peabody. And to relieve your anxiety, Harriet, he knows everything about our situation.”

Mr. Everett Mulberry presented Harriet with a bow before he straightened and turned to Lucetta and Millie, who were watching him warily. His eyes widened as his gaze settled on Lucetta. “You’re Miss Lucetta Plum, but . . . oh my, don’t you look . . . delightful?”

Lucetta nodded rather regally, an impressive feat considering her hair looked as if it’d had an unfortunate experience with a meat grinder. “Thank you, Mr. Mulberry, and as you can see, I wasn’t expecting to receive guests, which is why I’m now going to excuse myself and go hide in my room.” She turned and disappeared through the door.

Everett watched her leave. “That certainly wasn’t a sight I ever expected to see.”

“Just make sure you don’t mention it at any of your clubs,” Abigail ordered. “I’ve heard tell Miss Plum attracts admirers, and I don’t want those admirers tracking her down here.”

To Harriet’s surprise, Everett laughed. “Honestly, Mrs. Hart, who would I tell? It’s not like anyone would believe me if I told them I’d seen Lucetta Plum, dressed in trousers, no shoes, and hair that was . . . Well, what can one really say about that hair?”

“Excellent,” Abigail proclaimed before she gestured to Millie. “Now then, moving on to my other ward, allow me to present to you, Mr. Mulberry, Miss Millie Longfellow.”

To Harriet’s concern, Millie didn’t so much as move a muscle, although that might have been because she’d stuck the dictionary back on her head. When her friend remained mute as well as motionless, Harriet realized the sight of the very handsome and debonair Mr. Mulberry had apparently affected Millie in a very unusual way. Harriet hurried to stand beside Abigail, who was watching Millie with a considering look on her face.

“Your other
ward
? Don’t you think Lucetta, Millie, and I might be a little old to be called your wards?” was all Harriet could think to ask to break the strained silence now settled over the room.

Abigail switched her attention to Harriet. “Nonsense, it’s the perfect solution to the dilemma of how I should best present you. And”—she smiled at Everett—“I have you to thank for my clever idea of making the ladies my wards, although I didn’t think of it until you strolled into the room. Tell me, how are the brats?”

Everett blinked. “How in the world did you learn about my brats?”

“Just because I’ve not ventured forth much in the past few years doesn’t mean I don’t still have ears in the most influential of places.” Abigail tilted her head. “Although, a word of advice,
it might be for the best to choose a different form of endearment for the children now in your care. You’ll have a difficult time of it making matches for the girls in the future if society takes to calling them brats.”

“I never thought about that,” Everett muttered.

“Then I’m thrilled I was able to lend you some of my expert advice, as I’ve been lending it to my wards. Why, with my support, I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if these ladies soon find themselves in high demand.”

“I don’t want to be in high demand,” Millie proclaimed, suddenly finding her voice as she took a step forward, which immediately sent the dictionary tumbling to the ground. She didn’t bother to pick it up as she set her sights on Abigail. “The only thing I want to be is a nanny to a family who really needs me.”

Before Harriet could so much as blink, Everett had joined Millie and was gazing at her as if he found her to be the most delightful woman in the world. “You’re a nanny?”

Millie took a step back. “Ah, yes, I am, well, not at the moment you see, because . . .”

“Absolutely not!” Abigail barked, causing everyone to jump and stare her way. “Honestly, Everett, do not even think about coercing Millie into working for you. You’ve gone through at least a dozen nannies since you took charge of those children, and sweet little Millie wouldn’t stand a chance against them. Besides, she’s agreed to stand in as a lady’s maid for Harriet.”

“I don’t actually need a lady’s maid,” Harriet pointed out.

Millie crossed her arms over her chest. “I would make a perfectly credulous maid.”

Silence met Millie’s remark. Oliver’s brow wrinkled, Everett looked confused, and Abigail simply appeared resigned.

“What?” Millie demanded.

“You might want to check your dictionary again,” Harriet said, causing Millie to release a snort even as she picked up her
dictionary and began to flip through the pages, finally stopping as she ran a finger down the page. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped before she finally lifted her head.

“I meant
credible
maid, and I would be credible because I’ve been a maid before, right after I was released from the orphanage.”

“You really were a lady’s maid?” Harriet asked.

“Well, not exactly, but I did work upstairs tending to Mrs. Templeton’s rooms, so I was around all that feminine nonsense, before . . . ”

Harriet felt an immediate urge to groan. “May I ask how long you were employed by Mrs. Templeton?”

“There’s no need for that tone of voice, Harriet. I held on to that position for quite some time. But because I know this will be your next question, I was let go after an unfortunate incident with a warming pan. Although, as to that particular incident, it really could have happened to anyone. Those pans have hot coals in them, and it has to be a frequent occurrence for beds to catch fire.”

“Perhaps it would be for the best if we simply forget I have any children in my care,” Everett said firmly.

Millie narrowed her eyes, looking incredibly fierce for a lady who normally resembled a character straight out of a fairy tale. “I have never caused any of the children in my care to be harmed. I mean, yes, there was that almost-drowning incident, but that was caused because of a small misunderstanding on my part. I’d always been told that swimming was a natural thing, that one really didn’t need to be taught how to do it.” She shook her head. “Turns out I was wrong.”

Everett’s face turned pale. “You almost drowned a child?”

“Good heavens, no. I threw little Billy into the water, and he popped right back up and paddled to shore, but immediately after I released him I had second thoughts and went in after
him.” She shuddered. “I sank like a rock and Billy’s father was forced to rescue me. I was dismissed from my position and not given the funds owed me. Something to do with me causing the family undue fright.” Millie began swinging her arms back and forth as she rocked on her heels. “It was quite distressing.”

Everett began slowly edging away from Millie. “Forgive me, Miss Longfellow, but I’ve just remembered a pressing engagement that I really shouldn’t ignore.” Turning he walked back to Oliver. “I’ll just wait for you in the carriage.”