After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(23)



Millie grinned, the action causing a delightful dimple to pop out on her pixie-like face. “It is.”

Harriet was tempted to lick her finger, decided it was probably less than sanitary, so settled for wiping it on one of the few icing-free spots on Millie’s apron. “Should I ask why you’re covered in icing?”

“I told you, I had an unfortunate baking incident. I’ll be more than happy to share all the gory details, but only after you’ve called off the dog.”

“That might be problematic since Buford seems to enjoy strawberry icing and he’s not exactly good at listening to commands.”

“Nonsense,” Lucetta said as she snapped her fingers. “Buford, be a dear and leave Millie alone.”

Buford gave Millie’s skirt a last lick before he loped back to Lucetta’s side and pressed against her legs. Sending Harriet a grin, Lucetta picked up the dented pot. “I’m going to take him into the kitchen and feed him some of . . . well, whatever this is. It has to be better for him than icing.” Waltzing across the room with Buford sticking closely to her, Lucetta disappeared.

“I take it that beast is a boy?” Millie asked dryly.

“How could you tell?”

“It wasn’t difficult, since he seems to be completely under Lucetta’s spell, but . . . why is he here?”

“It’s a thrilling tale, much like the one I’m sure you have to share, but perhaps tale sharing should wait until you’ve changed your gown. Lucetta cleaned today, and you’re dripping all over the floor—as am I, now that I think about it.”

Millie smiled right before her bottom lip began to tremble. “I can’t believe I lost another position today. Mrs. Sheppard was so angry about the mishap that she’s refusing to pay me the wages I’m due.” Millie’s eyes turned suspiciously bright. “I have no idea how I’m going to be able to make the rent this month, and I dread going back to the employment agency and admitting another failure. The last time I was dismissed from a position, they told me they were running out of households willing to hire me, and—”

A loud rapping on the door interrupted Millie’s sad tale.

Harriet frowned. “I wonder who in the world that could be?” Stepping up to the window, she peeked through the curtain, feeling an immediate stab of dread run through her. Reaching for the doorknob, she opened it up ever so slowly and summoned up a smile. “Timothy, this is a surprise. What brings you here?”

Timothy hung his head. “I sure do hate to be here right now, Miss Peabody, but Mrs. Fienman ordered me to bring you this.” He handed her an envelope.

The dread turned to resignation as Harriet stared at the heavy vellum clasped in her hand. “I take it Mrs. Birmingham didn’t waste any time besmirching my character?”

“I’m not sure what besmirching means, but she sure did give Mrs. Fienman an earful about you, and none of it pleasant.” He shook his head. “She insisted I take her to the hat shop after depositing her daughter at the hotel. Curiosity got the best of me and I admit I took to listening outside the office door. I’m sorry to have to tell you that Mrs. Birmingham demanded Mrs. Fienman pen you that letter immediately while she looked on so that she’d be sure it was to her liking. I have a feeling you’re not going to find what’s written on the paper very nice.”

“You didn’t say anything about having trouble with Mrs. Fienman,” Lucetta said, hurrying back into the room with Buford trailing behind her.

“I haven’t had time to say much,” Harriet muttered before she slid her finger under the flap and opened the letter. It didn’t take her long to read the contents. “My services are no longer required at Fanny’s Millinery, and . . . Mrs. Fienman feels that because I’ve caused her undue distress, she does not feel obligated to pay me my wages owed.”

“Oh no, not you as well,” Millie moaned. “We’re . . . doomed.”

Harriet lifted her chin, thanked Timothy—who seemed as if he couldn’t get out of there fast enough—and shut the door. Turning to face her friends, she realized in that moment that she really had no other option but to go through with the madness Oliver had offered.

Millie had been let go from yet another position.

Lucetta, while earning somewhat substantial pay, had mysterious obligations she had to meet on a regular basis. While Harriet knew her friend would offer to pick up the rent for a few months until things got settled, Harriet couldn’t allow that.

She moved past Millie, who seemed ready to burst into tears, patted Lucetta’s arm, sidestepped Buford, and didn’t stop walking until she reached their miniscule kitchen. Pulling off the reticule looped around her wrist, she dumped the contents over the scarred surface of their wobbly table.

“What is that?” Millie whispered from the doorway.

“It’s money I’ve been given to purchase clothing, but I’ll have three thousand dollars more after I complete my obligation to Oliver Addleshaw.”

“But . . . Harriet,” Lucetta began slowly, “what are you going to have to do to earn those three thousand dollars?”

“Not what you’re obviously thinking, Lucetta. I’ve been hired to pose as Oliver’s lady friend. And before you start arguing with me, you must realize that I have no other choice, since I’ve lost my position, as has Millie.”

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