After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(105)
Her pulse began racing through her veins so fast she felt a little light-headed. “You wanted to give me a romantic gesture?”
To her surprise, Oliver ignored her question as he returned his attention to Buford. The pathetic-looking pooch was frozen to the spot and, from what Harriet could tell, was intending to stay that way for quite some time.
“You’re ruining the moment, Buford,” Oliver said before he reached down and tried to tug the dog up a step to no avail. He glanced back up at her. “I could use a little help here.”
Oliver’s surly tone of voice was not exactly the romantic tone she’d been expecting, but . . . it made her grin even as she hurried down to him. “What would you like me to do?”
“Help me get him up the steps, of course.” Oliver considered Buford for a moment. “You take his front, and I’ll lift his behind, but be careful of those bandages. He’s still a little tender from where that bullet grazed him.”
Bending over, Harriet put her arms gently around Buford. “Now, don’t worry, darling,” she cooed. “We’re going to be very careful with you, especially since you’re the very bravest dog in the whole world.”
“No, he’s not, at least not at the moment,” Oliver said with a grunt as he lifted Buford’s behind. “And he’s heavy.”
“Make sure you watch his head,” Lucetta called, her voice causing Buford to squirm.
“Yes, thank you for that, Lucetta,” Oliver called, “but could you stop speaking?”
“Really, Oliver, there’s no need to get testy,” Lucetta called back. “I’m only trying to help.”
“Stop talking. We’re going to drop him if he doesn’t stop wiggling.”
Harriet grinned again when she glanced up and saw Lucetta disappearing through the door. Securing her hold on Buford, she began climbing backward up the stairs. It took them a good few minutes to reach the door, probably because Buford kept making pitiful little sounds that caused them to stop every other step in order to soothe him. When they finally made it to the top, Harriet was short of breath, as was Oliver. She edged through the door, set Buford down right as Oliver did, and wiped a hand across her perspiring brow. “There, that wasn’t so bad.”
“It completely ruined the mood. I have no idea what I was thinking, bringing Buford along. It’s hardly the thing to have a mangy beast whimpering by one’s side when one is intending to spout something of a mushy nature.”
Pulse racing once again, Harriet could only stand there for a moment as she realized in all the commotion with Buford, she’d forgotten Oliver was here for a reason, and a reason that seemed to have something to do with . . . mushiness. A knot began to form in her stomach, but before she could actually think of anything to say, Millie stepped forward.
“You’ve got petals on you,” Millie exclaimed after she gave Buford a pat on the head and plucked what appeared to be a red rose petal off Oliver’s jacket. She handed it to him, and then plucked a few more petals off before she frowned. “Why are you covered in flower parts?”
Oliver looked at the rose petal in his hand, stepped around Millie, and held it out to Harriet. “For you.”
Harriet took the petal, raised it to her nose, took a sniff, and smiled. “No one has ever given me a flower petal before.”
“I was planning on giving you the whole bunch, but . . . best laid plans and all that.” He took a deep breath and suddenly looked incredibly nervous. “May I have a glass of water? For some reason, my throat suddenly feels incredibly parched.”
Harriet nodded but before she could take so much as a single step toward the kitchen, Lucetta brushed past her.
“I’ll get it.” She grabbed Millie’s hand and began tugging her out of the room. “You can help.”
“But it doesn’t take two people to fetch a . . . ouch . . . Did you just pinch me? Because that felt remarkably like a pinch, and . . .” Millie’s voice faded away as Lucetta hauled her into the hallway and toward the kitchen, shutting the door firmly behind them.
An odd silence settled over the cluttered room, broken only by the occasional grunts Buford was making as he stretched out on the floor and proceeded to bury his head underneath his massive paws.
Oliver sent her a grin. “I get the strangest feeling Buford feels I’m about to make a mess of things again. I might have gotten off to a rocky start, but since Lucetta has so very kindly granted me the chance to speak with you privately, I believe I’ll do better from this point forward.”
“I can’t guarantee how long Lucetta will be able to keep Millie away.”
“Then I suppose I should get right to what I need to say.”
Heart racing faster than ever, Harriet turned and moved across the gown-strewn floor, dropping into the chair she’d recently abandoned. “Perhaps you should take a seat as well.”
Glancing around, Oliver laughed. “I’m not certain that’s possible, given that every spare inch of space seems to be taken up by gowns.”
Harriet got back to her feet, shoved a mound of garments off a nearby chair, and gestured to Oliver. “That’ll have to do, but I apologize for the mess. We’ve been trying to figure out what to do with all the gowns I’ve collected over the years, but so far, we haven’t come up with a viable plan.” She shook her head. “Lucetta suggested I store them at Abigail’s for now, but that won’t really solve the problem especially since I have no plans to return to the city.”