After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(88)
“How long have you been listening to us?” Harriet asked as she got to her feet.
“Long enough to realize that the two of you are considering putting an end to your engagement and . . . it’s all my fault.”
With that, Lady Victoria dissolved into a fit of weeping, crossed the room in a flash, and much to Oliver’s surprise, flung herself, not into his arms, but into Harriet’s.
19
A day and a half later, Harriet’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point, quite like the laces Millie was currently torturing her with.
“I’m not going to be able to breathe, let alone eat, if you pull those any tighter,” Harriet managed to get out in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, given that Millie seemed to have pushed all the air out of her lungs with her last tug of the corset.
“You’re the one who insisted on wearing this refashioned gown of your mother’s. As you remarked more than once while you altered it, your mother had a very small waist. Since you claimed it would ruin the line of the gown if you added additional fabric to the waistline, well, lacing you as tightly as possible is the only way we’ll fit you into it. But at least now I know I can squish your waist to that desirable eighteen inches.” Millie gave one last tug of the laces, tied them in a competent knot, and moved to stand in front of Harriet. “There, how do you feel?”
“Stuffed.”
“Well, your waist looks absolutely tiny now,” Lucetta exclaimed as she walked around Harriet and eyed her for a second, “and your bosom . . . hmmm . . . that might be a cause for concern.” She turned to consider the gown that hung on a nearby dress form. “Perhaps we could add some lace to the bodice.”
“I don’t think we have time for that,” Harriet said. “Maybe I should just wear the gold gown from Arnold Constable & Company. The sales lady assured me it was a design straight from Paris, so it would be completely acceptable—and I might even be able to breathe in it.”
“Absolutely not,” Millie argued. “You’ve been dying to have someplace to wear your mother’s gown ever since you managed to get it away from Jane last year on your birthday. This ball is the perfect opportunity for that. Besides, since it was your mother’s, I imagine it’ll give you a little piece of comfort as you take on society tonight.”
“And,” Lucetta continued with a nod, “you told me bright and early this morning that you dreamed you wore your mother’s gown to the ball. Honestly, Harriet, you must realize that could have very well been a little push from God, sending you that piece of comfort Millie just mentioned.”
Harriet grinned. “With reasoning like that, I’d be foolish not to wear my mother’s gown. And since Oliver and I will be parting ways after tonight, this might be my one and only chance to wear a ball gown.”
“I noticed Abigail very considerately forgot all about her chaperoning duties when you had Oliver escort you over to the boardinghouse to pick up the gown,” Lucetta said with a curve of her lips.
“She’s still trying her very best to plot, but I’m afraid her efforts are for naught. Oliver and I agreed that after tonight we’ll part ways. Even though I realize Abigail wishes things were different, they’re not. Oliver is, and will always be, one of the wealthiest gentlemen in the country. I’ll always be a woman with questionable parentage who makes her living as a seamstress. It would never work.”
“But Oliver insinuated he might like to try to make it work,” Lucetta argued.
“Oliver didn’t know what he was insinuating,” Harriet argued right back. “He certainly didn’t mention a word about love.”
Lucetta blew out a breath. “He didn’t mention love because he’s a gentleman, and they’re rarely proficient with expressing their feelings. You also have to take into account that the two of you haven’t exactly known each other for very long.”
“Which is why it won’t be all that difficult to continue on without him.”
Lucetta’s expression turned decidedly grouchy. “I wonder what more would have been said between the two of you if Lady Victoria hadn’t interrupted.”
“I was thankful she interrupted because, quite frankly, there really was nothing else to be said.” Harriet shook her head. “I felt simply horrible for the girl. It couldn’t have been easy for her to come and apologize to me for trying to abscond with my fiancé.”
“I have a hard time sympathizing with a lady who was born to wealth and coddled her whole life—that coddling leaving her to believe that whatever she wants, she’s entitled to get,” Lucetta said.
Harriet drew in a breath, stopping midway when she realized her chest had no more room to expand. “It’s not her fault she’s been coddled, Lucetta. Why, after she finished apologizing to me, profusely at that, we ending up meeting with her father who was waiting in Abigail’s drawing room. The poor man was completely appalled by what his daughter had done to Oliver, but he did hint that there’s a reason behind Lady Victoria’s sense of entitlement. Something to do with indulging her far too much throughout her youth because of . . . well, he never really explained properly, except to mention he was beginning to see there were going to be definite repercussions from that indulgence.”