After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(22)
Harriet looked down and shook her head at the sight of Buford hovering by Lucetta’s side. “You’ve made a new conquest.”
Lucetta ruffled Buford’s fur, which immediately set his tail to wagging. “He’s a lovely conquest to be sure, and at least I know he won’t send me any of those nauseating roses.”
“Acquired more of your least favorite flower last night after your performance, did you?”
“I got bushels of them, and most of them sent by that horrid Mr. Silas Ruff.” Lucetta shuddered. “I think he believes his persistence will eventually wear me down.”
“He obviously doesn’t realize you’re a lady who can’t be bought.”
“Obviously, but again, we’re getting off topic. Where did you get Buford? I know he’s not a stray, because he’s wearing a collar and looks remarkably well fed.”
“He’s Oliver Addleshaw’s dog.”
Lucetta’s mouth made an O of surprise. “Are you talking about the Oliver Addleshaw who recently built one of the most extravagant houses on Fifth Avenue?”
“One and the same. I saw his house today, and it certainly seems to be extravagant, at least on the outside.”
“And you have his dog because . . . you found him wandering around outside that house and . . . Oh dear, please tell me you’re not considering holding Buford for ransom? Jail is not a place you’d care to visit.”
“You’ve evidently been immersing yourself entirely too much in those Shakespearian plots, and . . . how would you know that jail is not a place I’d care to land?”
Lucetta gave an airy wave of her hand. “I spent a few hours in one when I needed to prepare for a particularly difficult part, and I did not enjoy the experience. However, that has nothing to do with what you’re doing with Mr. Addleshaw’s dog or what you were even doing on Fifth Avenue.” She narrowed her eyes. “Your aunt doesn’t have something to do with this, does she?”
“Considering Aunt Jane is extremely put out with me since I once again refused her lovely offer of joining her less-than-savory business operation, I haven’t had the pleasure of speaking to or even seeing her since my last birthday.” Harriet bit her lip. “Although, I do believe she’s taken to having me followed again.” She waved her hand. “But enough about that. I was at Oliver’s house because Mrs. Fienman sent me there to make a delivery.”
“Mrs. Fienman prefers you remain in the back room, and . . . did you just call Mr. Addleshaw by his given name?”
“He told me to use his name, and yes, Mrs. Fienman did prefer to keep me to the back room, but there were extenuating circumstances that required her to shove me out of that room today.”
“And those circumstances culminated with you becoming so well acquainted with Mr. Addleshaw that you’re now addressing him by his given name and taking care of his dog?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds a little . . . unseemly.” She felt her shoulders sag. “And here I was trying so hard to convince myself that this was the “something wonderful” God sent me for my birthday.”
“Oh . . . Harriet.” Lucetta moved up next to her, Buford still attached to her side, and pulled Harriet into a clumsy hug. “Don’t tell me you asked God for another gentleman this year, and that you believe He sent you Oliver Addleshaw as your something wonderful. From what little I know of the man, and believe me, that isn’t much, he’s ruthless, with only one ambition—that of amassing a fortune greater than Cornelius Vanderbilt’s.”
Harriet stepped out of Lucetta’s embrace and wrinkled her nose. “While I certainly don’t understand why anyone would feel the need to have more money than Cornelius Vanderbilt, I didn’t ask for a gentleman this year, and I certainly don’t consider Oliver my something wonderful. I was entertaining the idea that it’s the money Oliver’s giving me that’s wonderful.”
“What money?”
Reaching for her reticule, Harriet managed to get the clasp undone, but before she could show Lucetta the contents of her bag, the outside door burst open and Miss Millie Longfellow, her other roommate, stomped through it. Forgetting all about her reticule when she saw that Millie was covered from head to toe in something pink, Harriet stood there gawking, as Lucetta did the same.
“Well, as you can see,” Millie said with a jerky motion of her hand, the action causing some of the pink to go flying, “I’ve been dismissed once again from my position. Dismissed all because of a baking lesson with the children that went horribly, horribly wrong, and . . .”
Whatever else Millie was going to say seemed to get stuck in her throat when Buford moved from Lucetta’s side and charged directly at Millie, skidding across the floor and finally coming to a stop when he plowed into her skirt and promptly began to chew on it.
Millie’s eyes went wide as she remained frozen on the spot. “Would it be too much of a bother to beg the two of you for some assistance before this creature gnaws off my leg?”
“He won’t hurt you,” Harriet reassured her, hurrying forward. “He just wants to sample whatever that is you have on your gown.” She stopped by Millie’s side, reached out her hand, swiped at the pink, and brought it up to her nose. “Is this strawberry icing?”