After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(47)

“I think a more pertinent question would be how he could have opened the door in the first place.”

“Maybe he used his teeth,” Millie suggested right as someone began knocking on the door in question. “I think Mr. Addleshaw’s found you.”

Harriet blew out a breath. “I was hoping he’d give up after knocking on Lulu’s door down on the third floor. She’s a darling lady—don’t get me wrong—but she is a little . . .”

“Scary?” Millie finished for her.

“I think it’s the different colored eyes and the hair that almost reaches the floor.” Harriet scooted down on her stomach and began edging toward Buford, even as he started edging farther away from her. “If you’ll just come out, darling, I’ll give you to your master.”

“Mr. Addleshaw might have to come in and fetch his dog,” Millie said, her voice muffled since Harriet was now completely under the table. “Buford wouldn’t even come out for Lucetta, and you know how much he adores her.”

The knocking suddenly intensified, the sound making Harriet’s teeth grind together. “The sooner you cooperate, Buford, the sooner you’ll be reunited with Oliver.”

A pitiful whimper was Buford’s only response.

“Does no one but me hear that someone is trying to pound down our door?” Lucetta called from the receiving room.

“Don’t—” Harriet began as she shot up, the impact from her head hitting the underside of the table, cutting off the rest of her warning. Stars began dancing behind her eyes, and she could only drop back to the floor in a daze while the sound of Lucetta’s bare feet padding down the small hallway mingled with Oliver’s determined knocks.

The creak of the door came next, and then Oliver’s voice rang out. “I do beg your pardon, but I’m looking for Miss Harriet Peabody. Does she happen to live here?”

“You’re Mr. Addleshaw.”

“Indeed, and . . . you’re Miss Lucetta Plum . . . the . . . actress . . . but what have you done to your hair? It’s . . .”

Whatever else Oliver was saying got lost when the door slammed right before Lucetta’s stomps echoed down the hallway and then her feet came into view.

“What an unpleasant, hideous man,” Lucetta said with a huff. “Did you hear how he said actress in that snotty tone of voice?” She let out another huff. “I’m afraid I might have been completely off the mark, Harriet, regarding my support of the alliance you’ve formed with that man.”

Pushing herself up from the floor, Harriet rubbed her head. “Oliver can certainly be unpleasant, but . . .” Her eyes widened as the stars disappeared and she got a good look at Lucetta. “What have you done to your hair?”

Lucetta raised a hand and touched one of the many braids sticking out on her head. “Oh, I forgot about this. I was reading over my lines for that new play, and, well, you know how I get bored when I do that.”

“One braid wasn’t enough to push away the boredom?” Millie asked with a grin.

Lucetta waved the question away. “It’s not like anyone’s around to see me, except for that horrid man on our landing, and I don’t really care what he thinks of me, which obviously isn’t much.” She plopped her hands on her hips. “You must realize you can’t continue forward with this, Harriet. He’s a nightmare.”

“You’ll be pleased to learn I’ve already come to that very same conclusion, Lucetta, but I do have to say that Oliver isn’t unpleasant all the time, and really, he’s far from hideous, and . . .”

Harriet pressed her lips together when Lucetta and Millie suddenly gawked at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“Good heavens, Harriet, this is a disaster,” Lucetta whispered.

“What’s a disaster?”

“You’re . . . attracted to him.”

“No. I’m. . . . well . . . perhaps a bit, but it’s just because he’s not always grumpy, and I think, deep down inside, very deep down inside, he’s . . . slightly . . . nice.”

She pointed to Buford still under the table, ignoring the looks of shock Millie and Lucetta were sending her way. “Take Buford, for instance. While I was having ice cream with Oliver, we got to talking about his dog, and I learned he didn’t buy Buford. He found the poor thing starving in an alley, and instead of leaving Buford there to die, he brought him home.”

“He rescued a dog and bought you ice cream?” Lucetta asked slowly.

Harriet nodded. “He did, and when he discovered I’d been treated shabbily by Madame Simone when I was trying to buy some dresses, he took me to Arnold Constable & Company and practically bought out the store for me.”

Lucetta took a step closer. “This is worse than I thought. You like the man.”

“No, I don’t,” Harriet argued. “Or, maybe I did, until he tried to take me to task for speaking to Ginger and Tawny. Honestly, he was appalled to learn I’m acquainted with two women he was so certain were from the demimonde.” She shrugged. “Granted, Ginger and Tawny used to work in that profession, but they’ve abandoned their old ways and now earn their living by taking in laundry. Since they don’t make much in the way of a wage, it’s hardly their fault they still dress in the clothing they used to be required to wear in their other profession.”