After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(13)

That city turned out to be New York City. They’d rented a small house in a working-class neighborhood. Harriet had actually been provided with a governess, whose sole job seemed to be reviewing everything Harriet knew and filling in areas she deemed Harriet to be deficient in.

Her aunt was rarely at home, which was fine with Harriet, since their relationship had deteriorated even further. That relationship became downright horrific, though, when Harriet turned sixteen.

Aunt Jane arrived unexpectedly on Harriet’s birthday, bearing gifts and a cake, which Harriet found peculiar but somewhat promising. All sense of promise disappeared in a flash after the cake had been consumed. Aunt Jane proceeded to explain exactly what was expected of Harriet from that point forward. Her explanation finally shed much-needed light on the reason she’d bothered to secure Harriet a complete education.

It turned out that Jane made a lucrative living through dishonest means. She traveled often, insinuating herself into wealthy circles, for the purpose of swindling people. Not bothering to address Harriet’s sputters of disbelief, Jane then informed Harriet that it was past time she joined the “family business” and earned her keep. Jane wanted Harriet to use the education she’d acquired and her somewhat polished manners to hoodwink wealthy targets, convincing them she was an orphaned young lady, though of means, needing assistance as she tried to navigate the daunting world of society.

When Harriet learned Jane expected her to steal a priceless painting from one of the mansions on Park Avenue, she balked, causing Jane to fly into a rage, screaming horrible things about Harriet’s mother before resorting to throwing anything at hand in the direction of Harriet.

Fearing for her life, Harriet barricaded herself in her room, quickly packed her belongings, and took off out the window, determined to never return.

She’d almost starved to death over the weeks she spent on the streets, until one night, out of sheer desperation, she’d stumbled into a ramshackle old church.

Stepping into a room lined with pews, she’d been greeted by an older gentleman who introduced himself as Reverend Thomas Gilmore. He’d taken hold of her arm, ushered her into his office, helped her into a wobbly chair, and poured her a bracing cup of strong tea.

He’d listened with barely a word spoken as she’d poured out the story of her life. When she finally finished her sad tale, Reverend Gilmore took hold of her hand, told her he was going to help her, and then began to speak about God.

God became a daily part of her life after that, and Reverend Gilmore became a dear friend. He helped her secure reputable employment, along with new lodging that eventually came with new friends, Miss Millie Longfellow and Miss Lucetta Plum.

Rain whipping into her eyes pulled Harriet abruptly from her memories. Blinking to clear her vision, she frowned at a mansion that in no way looked familiar. Realizing she had been walking in the wrong direction down Fifth Avenue, she turned and began splashing her way back the way she’d just come. Her splashing slowed when a large, and unfortunately familiar, figure materialized out of the rain.

“Ah, Miss Peabody,” Mr. Addleshaw exclaimed with a charming smile as he stopped in front of her, blocking her way. “Had a change of heart, have you?”

Her first impulse was to dash in the opposite direction, but it was raining harder than ever, and she didn’t want to waste time wandering around Fifth Avenue in an attempt to avoid Mr. Addleshaw. Lifting her chin, she sidestepped the gentleman, sending him a nod before she passed him and continued forward. To her annoyance, the man caught up with her all too quickly—although, to her satisfaction, his smile had dimmed.

“What you need is a nice fire to warm you up and dry you out,” Mr. Addleshaw said as he matched her step for step.

“I’m not going back to your house, Mr. Addleshaw.”

What little remained of his smile disappeared. “Why’d you turn around, then?”

“I was heading in the wrong direction.”

“You really don’t want to hear about my business proposal?”

“Unusual as this must seem to you, no, I don’t.”

“I assure you, it would be worth your time to hear me out.”

Stopping in the midst of a deep puddle that sent water dribbling down her high-buttoned shoes, Harriet pushed the bird dangling in front of her eye aside. “You’re very tenacious.”

“It’s what makes me a successful businessman.”

“But I, after being the recipient of your inexcusable insult, have no desire to be a part of that business, successful or not.”

“I have no idea what I said that insulted you so greatly.”

“And that is exactly why I’m now going to bid you good day one last time.” Picking up her drenched skirt, Harriet tried to continue forward but found her progress thwarted when Buford appeared out of nowhere and immediately took hold of her hem with his overly large teeth.

“Buford thinks you should hear me out as well.”

“And I think you should call off your dog and allow me to be on my way,” she countered.

“I’m certain you must realize by now that Buford rarely listens to me.”

“Which begs the question why someone of your temperament would suffer his company.”

“I do believe there’s an insult in there somewhere, directed at me.”

“Besides being tenacious, I see you’re astute as well.”