After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(73)

“Precious adores me, and Mr. Bambini is exaggerating. Mrs. Henderson didn’t exactly assault me.”

“I beg to differ, Miss Peabody,” Mr. Bambini began, nodding to Oliver. “I’ll have you know that Mrs. Henderson was pitching porcelain left and right, mostly in the direction of your fiancée, and that is what marked Miss Peabody’s face. And yet, even though she suffered blatant abuse at Mrs. Henderson’s hand, Miss Peabody allowed the woman to believe that she did not need to remove herself from the shop space you’ve rented. And your fiancée informed the woman that the rent you’ve generously paid me in advance will be put toward that woman’s rent for the next year.”

Oliver turned to Harriet, noticing as he did so that her eyes had turned a deep shade of purple, a circumstance that clearly showed she was about to let loose that temper of hers. “Is that true?”

“It is, and I expect you to honor what I offered, given that it was completely unacceptable for you to have that woman displaced simply because you wanted to give me the storefront she currently occupies.”

Oliver blinked. “What are you talking about . . . displaced the woman?”

Harriet poked him hard in the chest with her finger. “What could you have been thinking . . . agreeing to evict a woman who has a husband unable to find work and sick children?”

Stepping around Harriet, Oliver arched a brow in Mr. Bambini’s direction. “You told me Mrs. Henderson was behind on rent and that you’d already begun the process of evicting her.”

“She was behind on rent.”

“Only a week,” Harriet argued, leaning around Oliver. “And she told you she’d have the money today.”

Mr. Bambini shrugged. “I’m not in business to extend favors, Miss Peabody, and late is late, be it a week or a month. Mr. Addleshaw and I have done business before. I’d much rather lease that space to him for your use than to continue having Mrs. Henderson deliver her rent late whenever that shiftless husband of hers loses another job.”

Oliver grabbed hold of Harriet’s arm when she began edging forward, his lips curling ever so slightly when she sent him a glare. “I’ll deal with this, Harriet.”

“Because you’re a gentleman and I’m just a delicate little lady?”

“You and I both know that, other than your appearance, there’s nothing delicate about you.” He frowned and glanced back to Mr. Bambini. “I’m afraid you and I are suffering from a bit of a misunderstanding. I certainly never intended for you to evict a woman in order to rent me that space. I feel distinctly misled, and I must tell you, I’m beyond annoyed over the idea you didn’t do anything to ensure my fiancée didn’t come to harm when Mrs. Henderson went on a rampage.”

Mr. Bambini let out a nervous laugh. “I could hardly have known Mrs. Henderson was going to begin flinging dishes. Why, that right there proves the woman doesn’t have a mind for business. She destroyed her own merchandise and can no longer receive a profit from it.”

Harriet tugged on Oliver’s arm. “Speaking of Mrs. Henderson’s merchandise, she’ll be sending you a bill for the damage Buford did in her shop.”

“You took Buford into a china shop?”

“Not intentionally,” she muttered.

“You have had a tough time of it today, haven’t you?”

“Wait until you hear what happened next.”

“There’s more?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “But I can’t tell you about it right now.”

Oliver found it incredibly difficult to pull his attention away from her lip. She’d taken to nibbling on it, and for some reason, he found the nibbling fascinating. He’d never noticed before how full her bottom lip was compared to the top, but now that he had, it was . . .

“So, you’ll let Mrs. Henderson retain the use of the shop and allow her to use the money you gave Mr. Bambini for my rent for the next year?”

The peculiar thought struck from out of nowhere—that if Harriet happened to ask him for the moon at this particular moment, given that she looked far too vulnerable, that vulnerability playing havoc with every one of his senses, he’d do his very best to give it to her. It was completely ridiculous, and quite unlike him, but . . .

“You’re not going to let Mrs. Henderson keep her shop?” Harriet asked in a small voice, right as her slim shoulders drooped.

Blinking rapidly out of his odd musings, he couldn’t resist reaching out a hand to smooth it over the drooping shoulder. “Forgive me. I fear my mind was wandering, but of course I’ll let her keep the shop.”

“And you’ll pay for the damaged merchandise as well?”

“Since Buford seems to be the culprit behind that madness, of course.”

“And you really didn’t know Mrs. Henderson was getting evicted because you wanted to rent her place?”

Harriet’s words had come out in a mere whisper, and it took everything he possessed to not pull her into his arms and soothe away whatever else was bothering her. “I didn’t know, which is why I bought a vase from her. I thought it would ease her mind about closing up shop if she made a few last sales.”

“You’re making this very difficult for me,” she said softly, but before he could ask her to explain what she meant by that, Harriet looked back at Mr. Bambini. “I think we’ve settled everything to satisfaction now.”