After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(56)
“What?” Millie demanded.
“You might want to check your dictionary again,” Harriet said, causing Millie to release a snort even as she picked up her dictionary and began to flip through the pages, finally stopping as she ran a finger down the page. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped before she finally lifted her head.
“I meant credible maid, and I would be credible because I’ve been a maid before, right after I was released from the orphanage.”
“You really were a lady’s maid?” Harriet asked.
“Well, not exactly, but I did work upstairs tending to Mrs. Templeton’s rooms, so I was around all that feminine nonsense, before . . . ”
Harriet felt an immediate urge to groan. “May I ask how long you were employed by Mrs. Templeton?”
“There’s no need for that tone of voice, Harriet. I held on to that position for quite some time. But because I know this will be your next question, I was let go after an unfortunate incident with a warming pan. Although, as to that particular incident, it really could have happened to anyone. Those pans have hot coals in them, and it has to be a frequent occurrence for beds to catch fire.”
“Perhaps it would be for the best if we simply forget I have any children in my care,” Everett said firmly.
Millie narrowed her eyes, looking incredibly fierce for a lady who normally resembled a character straight out of a fairy tale. “I have never caused any of the children in my care to be harmed. I mean, yes, there was that almost-drowning incident, but that was caused because of a small misunderstanding on my part. I’d always been told that swimming was a natural thing, that one really didn’t need to be taught how to do it.” She shook her head. “Turns out I was wrong.”
Everett’s face turned pale. “You almost drowned a child?”
“Good heavens, no. I threw little Billy into the water, and he popped right back up and paddled to shore, but immediately after I released him I had second thoughts and went in after him.” She shuddered. “I sank like a rock and Billy’s father was forced to rescue me. I was dismissed from my position and not given the funds owed me. Something to do with me causing the family undue fright.” Millie began swinging her arms back and forth as she rocked on her heels. “It was quite distressing.”
Everett began slowly edging away from Millie. “Forgive me, Miss Longfellow, but I’ve just remembered a pressing engagement that I really shouldn’t ignore.” Turning he walked back to Oliver. “I’ll just wait for you in the carriage.”
Everett vanished out the door a second later and silence settled around the dining room, until Abigail let out a huff. “It really is amazing how quickly you ladies are able to clear a room. First Archibald and now poor Mr. Mulberry.”
“My grandfather was here?” Oliver asked.
“He still is here, dear, although he’s made himself scarce due to Miss Plum’s unfortunate choice of garments today.” Abigail moved closer to Oliver. “Which reminds me, your grandfather has been kind enough to provide us with the use of your chef. I’ll need you—along with Mr. Mulberry, if you can get him to return—to come back here around seven.”
“My grandfather brought my chef over here?”
Abigail smiled. “Archibald’s been such a dear, helping me get Harriet ready. Why, it was ingenious, his idea to serve an actual formal meal. I’m hopeful our lesson tonight will go far in preparing everyone for the dinner Archibald and I have decided to hold for the duke.”
“What dinner?” Harriet asked—apprehension stealing through her when Abigail didn’t bother to answer but simply sent her a smile before she turned back to Oliver.
“There is no need to dress formally, dear. Reverend Gilmore has also agreed to attend our little meal, and I wouldn’t want that lovely gentleman to feel out of place. Since he’s so dedicated to helping the poor, he spends his money on those in need, which means he doesn’t have funds, or any desire, I might add, for formal clothes. And that is why I intend to keep our attire simple tonight.” She eyed him for a moment. “Why . . . surprisingly enough, that jacket you have on is very nice and will be quite suitable for you to wear this evening.”
Harriet took a second to look Oliver over. Since she’d come to the recent conclusion she needed to keep matters strictly businesslike between them, she’d been avoiding looking at him, but now that she did, she found her mouth turning a little dry.
His broad shoulders were currently encased in a jacket made of fine wool, that wool cut to perfection and tapered expertly to showcase his trim waist. His trousers were creased with a smart line and cut in a manner that allowed him ease of movement, yet highlighted the strength of his legs.
“I made a visit to my tailor before I came here,” Oliver said, pulling her abruptly from her perusal.
Her face began to warm when she caught his eye and realized he’d caught her in the act of gawking at him. Clearing her throat, she struggled to come up with something to say. “May I assume you and your tailor came to some type of agreement regarding the fit of your clothing?”
“I don’t know if we came to any type of agreement,” Oliver said before he sent a nod to Abigail. “But, you were right, Mrs. Hart, in regard to my tailor being upset with me. When I confronted Mr. Clay, my tailor, today about my ill-fitting clothes, he barely blinked an eye before he owned up to tailoring them poorly on purpose.”