After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(90)
“Forgive me, but from what I’ve learned about your aunt Jane, she really doesn’t seem like the type to be overly sentimental.”
Harriet frowned. “Now that you mention it, it is somewhat odd she’d save my mother’s dress because Jane told me herself that she’s been very annoyed with my mother for up and dying and leaving me in her care.”
“What a completely horrid woman your aunt is, dear, but let us put such unpleasant thoughts aside. You look lovely, and I’m delighted you actually have something of your mother’s to wear this evening.” Abigail reached out and snagged hold of Harriet’s hand, sliding a ring over Harriet’s gloved finger.
Looking down, Harriet found a huge diamond ring glittering back at her. “Oh, I can’t wear this,” she muttered, trying to pull her hand back, but to no avail when Abigail refused to let go of it.
“It’ll be expected that Oliver’s fiancée has a ring, and . . . I would be tickled if you’d agree to wear this particular ring tonight. It’s a family heirloom and I always intended to give it to my daughter, but . . . well, no need to get into the drama that happened there.” Abigail blinked away tears that had sprung to her eyes before she let out a sniff, dropped Harriet’s hand, and then patted Harriet on the cheek. “You, Lucetta, and Millie have, in a relatively short period of time, become like daughters to me, or granddaughters considering our age differences. I would be truly honored if you would wear the ring, if only for this evening.”
Harriet’s throat constricted, but she managed a nod right as Victoria burst into the room, Oliver by her side.
Any air she’d been able to keep in her chest left her the second her gaze settled on Oliver. He was looking more handsome than ever in his formal coat and cravat, the cut of the coat expertly fitting his broad shoulders and tapering all too attractively down to his slim waist. His hair was combed back from his face without a single lock falling out of place, and his eyes were . . . wide and staring in a somewhat dazed fashion back at her.
For the first time in her entire life, Harriet truly did feel beautiful.
“I do hope you won’t be upset with me for coming early,” Lady Victoria exclaimed, drawing Harriet’s attention. “Father told me I was being inexcusably rude, but after your kindness of yesterday, Harriet, I’ve just felt this pull to be around you. I thought it might be lovely if we greeted guests together.”
Harriet’s lips curved into a smile as Victoria pulled her into an enthusiastic hug and then stepped back. There was something refreshing about the young lady, even though she was certainly spoiled and a bit strong-willed. Harriet took Victoria’s hand in her own and gave it a good squeeze. “I would be honored to stand by you and greet the guests, but where is your father?”
“He’s still back at the hotel, because Mother’s running a little behind schedule. She began feeling better only a few hours ago, which is why she’s coming tonight. But it takes her forever to get ready, so they’ll be late.”
Victoria grinned. “Oliver’s delightful grandfather seems to believe that’s a fortuitous circumstance, since my parents will then be able to make a grand entrance—something he thought you, Mrs. Hart, would appreciate.”
“Indeed I do,” Abigail agreed. “It’s quite the feather in my cap to be fortunate enough to introduce your family to New York, Lady Victoria. I’m delighted your mother is feeling up to coming this evening, but we really must get to the ballroom. Our guests will be arriving shortly, and it wouldn’t do to not be there to greet them.”
She took hold of Victoria’s arm, pulled her away from Harriet, and lowered her voice. “We should give Harriet and Oliver a moment alone.” She sent Harriet a wink. “I’m leaving the door open and I expect both of you in the ballroom within the next five minutes.” With that, Abigail strolled arm in arm with Victoria out of the room.
Harriet’s nerves immediately made themselves known, increasing steadily when Oliver didn’t say a single word but simply stood there, watching her. “Is something the matter?” she finally asked.
Oliver frowned. “Why would you ask that?”
“You’re not speaking, and it’s been my experience that you’re never at a loss for something to say.”
Laughing, Oliver took one step forward. “If you must know, the only thing the matter at the moment is that you look enchanting this evening, quite like a princess, and your beauty is what stole the words straight from my lips and fogged up my mind.”
Harriet suddenly found she was at a loss for words.
Oliver grinned and moved across the room, stopping directly in front of her. He drew her hand up and placed a kiss on the knuckles, his gaze and the merest touch of his lips against her gloved hand sending shivers down her spine.
“Is something wrong, Miss Peabody?” he asked and continued before she could reply, not that she was certain she would actually have been able to do that. “Why, since I’ve become known to you, it’s been my observation that you’re never without words, and yet, here you are . . . speechless.”
He was far too attractive when he was being charming, and charming he certainly was this evening.
He needed to stop it, before she threw aside all the decisions she’d recently made and told him she wanted to continue being his pretend fiancée, if only for another month, or two, or perhaps six, or . . .