After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(71)
“I’ll introduce you to everyone in society I’m fortune enough to become friends with, but . . . you’re going to have to wait for me to get a foothold in the door so to speak before I make any introductions.” She leaned back against the seat. “I’ll need a good month to do that, two at the most.”
Silence settled over them as Jane stared back at Harriet—and then she nodded. “Very well, I’ll give you a month to charm your way into the highest circles, but I expect you to be paving the way for me as you charm. Little mentions of your doting aunt will go far in preparing society for my entrance. However, if you get invited to any of those delicious society balls, you’re to contact me immediately, because that would be the perfect opportunity for me to . . . Well, I’m sure you can figure out where I plan to go from there.”
“It’s June, Jane. Society has slowed to a stop here in the city, with most people currently in Europe or having their houses closed down while they go off to Newport or Saratoga Springs for the summer. There won’t be many balls in my immediate future.”
“But . . . if there are . . . you’ll get me invited?”
“I’ll get you invited to all the balls I’m invited to once the social season starts up in the fall.”
“You’re being a little evasive, my pet, which I find somewhat troubling.” Jane’s eyes narrowed. “Do know that I’ll make your life miserable if you’re lying to me.”
Since Harriet knew she’d be far removed from society in a month and would be able to call exactly zero society members friends after she and Oliver parted ways—except for Mrs. Hart, who was probably more than capable of taking on Jane—she was completely at ease with what she’d offered her aunt. Leaning forward over the cat, she smiled. “That hardly sounded very affectionate, Aunt Jane.”
Jane didn’t bother to respond but instead thumped the tip of her parasol against the roof of the carriage. “I think this little meeting between us has been rather productive, so now I’m going to allow you an opportunity to put our plan into action.”
“I told you, I need a month and you agreed to that.”
“Of course I agreed, darling, but I’d like you to at least tell Mr. Addleshaw about me, because that would put . . .” Jane continued speaking, her words traveling in one of Harriet’s ears and directly out the other as she went on and on about what lovely things Harriet could tell Oliver about her.
When the carriage began to slow, Harriet peered out the window, irritation running over her when she noticed they were stopping, not in front of Abigail’s house, but Oliver’s. “I think your driver delivered me to the wrong house.”
Craning her neck, Jane glanced out the window as well. “Oh no, this is where I told him to end up.” She smiled. “I thought I was going to have to be more forceful getting your cooperation, so I intended to . . . Well, no need to explain that since it’s ancient history now. Do use some of those suggestions I just gave you to explain me to your Mr. Addleshaw, and I’ll check in on your progress soon.”
“I can’t go up and knock on Mr. Addleshaw’s door. It’s hardly proper behavior.”
“If he’s truly infatuated with you, he’ll be delighted you’ve come to call, and I want to ascertain that you’re really engaged. Engaged ladies often pay visits to their future husbands.”
“No they don’t.”
Jane arched a brow right as the door opened and Martin thrust a beefy hand Harriet’s way. Ignoring his hand, she clutched the cat closer to her and moved to get out of the carriage.
“I will need the cat back.”
Brushing past Martin, who seemingly only stepped aside because Precious had started hissing, Harriet turned after her feet were firmly on the sidewalk. “The cat is coming with me.”
“But what about my reward?”
Pretending not to hear her, Harriet swiveled on her heel and began walking for the front door. When she traveled out of earshot of her aunt, she leaned closer to Precious. “I can only hope, Precious, that Jane will, someday, get the reward she so richly deserves.”
16
Closing the desk drawer on business papers Oliver knew he wouldn’t have a chance to look over again in the foreseeable future, he leaned back in his chair. Impatience spread through him as he regarded Mr. Bambini, who’d arrived unannounced a short time before, the man proclaiming he had a matter of utmost importance to discuss. Considering the gentleman was currently twirling his large mustache over his finger, but had yet to state the reason for the visit, Oliver wasn’t exactly certain the matter was of an urgent nature. “May I assume there’s a problem with the deal we closed yesterday?” he finally asked when Mr. Bambini remained irritatingly mute.
The twirling stopped. “I wouldn’t say there’s exactly a problem, more of a complication, if you will. I simply wanted to take this opportunity to explain my side of the story before your . . .”
A knock at the door had Mr. Bambini’s explanation coming to a rapid end when Mr. Blodgett stepped into the room. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Addleshaw, but another caller has just arrived, one I believe you’re going to want to . . . Good heavens.” Mr. Blodgett jumped back right before one of the largest, ugliest cats Oliver had ever seen darted into the room, hisses of displeasure emitting from it, which certainly explained his butler’s unusual action of actually jumping.