by Turano, Jen
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.
“Don’t let it escape.”
For a second, Oliver remained stuck in his chair when the door flung fully open and Harriet barged into the room.
“She’s heading for the window,” Harriet yelled, the clear panic in her voice finally registering, which had Oliver up and on his feet a second later. He snatched the cat as it leapt for the open window, immediately regretting that particular decision when the monster dug its sharp claws into his arm. Prying himself free of the claws, he breathed a silent sigh of relief when Harriet plucked the cat away from him.
She cuddled the ball of ugliness against herself before she sent him a smile. He couldn’t help notice that even though she was smiling, it seemed somewhat strained, and there was a distinct touch of redness to her nose, giving him the impression she was either coming down with a cold or . . . she’d been crying.
“Good thing Precious didn’t make it out the window,” she began in a voice that didn’t sound as if she were coming down with a cold. Which meant . . .
“I’m pretty sure poor Mrs. Fish would have been beside herself if her cat went missing for good,” she finished, giving the cat a quick hug before she caught his eye.
“Who is Mrs. Fish?” he heard himself ask, even though he was more interested in learning why her nose was red and what she was doing at his house.
“No idea, but I’ll tell you all about that later. I do apologize for bursting in on you, but I couldn’t let Precious make her escape. I’ll go back to the drawing room and allow you to continue on with your meeting.” Turning, she nodded toward Mr. Bambini, but then she stiffened, her smile slid right off her face, and the next thing he knew, he was once again holding the squirming and hissing cat as Harriet advanced on Mr. Bambini.
“I thought I told you I’d deal with Mr. Addleshaw,” she said, standing in front of Mr. Bambini, who’d risen to his feet and was seemingly bristling with indignation.
“And I thought I told you this was gentlemen’s business and I’d deal with it,” Mr. Bambini countered.
Shifting the cat in his arms, another decision he immediately regretted when the cat left a long rip in his sleeve, Oliver moved closer to Harriet. “You know Mr. Bambini?”
Harriet nodded. “We met today and had a most illuminating discussion.”
Mr. Bambini let out a grunt. “There was nothing illuminating about what we discussed, Miss Peabody, and I have to imagine Mr. Addleshaw is going to be most displeased when he learns the particulars of what transpired.”
“He can’t be nearly as displeased as I am,” Harriet said, but even though she was standing her ground against a gentleman who was looming over her, and not giving an inch while she stood that ground, Oliver detected the faintest trace of a quiver in her tone, that quiver causing his temper to rise even as a strange feeling settled in the vicinity of his heart.
The cat took that moment to let out a howl of protest, which had him unclenching the fingers he’d dug into it before he walked over to his butler and held out the now spitting cat. “Would you be so kind as to take this little darling to the kitchen? I’m sure it’ll settle right down if it’s given some milk.”
Mr. Blodgett looked downright alarmed at that idea. “You want me to put my life at risk by trying to get that beast to drink some milk?”
“Precious won’t hurt you,” Harriet said as she took the cat from Oliver and moved closer to Mr. Blodgett. “She’s simply had a tough time of it of late, but I imagine if you add some fish to that milk, she’ll be your newest best friend.”
Mr. Blodgett reached out and took the cat, although he did so remarkably reluctantly, and holding it as far away from his person as he could, began heading for the door. “If you ask me, it wouldn’t hurt this cat in the least to miss a few meals.”
Harriet smiled at the butler. “I’m fairly sure Precious is a bit spoiled, which goes far in explaining her girth and cantankerous nature, but . . . Oh, speaking of cantankerous, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you send a note around to Mrs. Hart, telling her I’m here and that I’m . . . fine?”
Oliver exchanged a glance with Mr. Blodgett, whose eyes had widened. But, given that the butler was the consummate professional, he sent Harriet a nod and walked out the door, still holding the now squirming cat at arm’s length.
“While this is a delightful surprise, Harriet,” Oliver said, lowering his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“That thrilling tale will need to wait until after I’m done with Mr. Bambini,” she returned before she marched her way back to Mr. Bambini, who didn’t appear delighted she was once again giving him her undivided attention. “There’s no reason for you to linger, sir. I’m here now, and I’ll tell Mr. Addleshaw what happened today on the Ladies’ Mile.”
“You’re going to tell him how Mrs. Henderson assaulted you?”
Oliver was by Harriet’s side before she had an opportunity to respond. “You were assaulted?” He reached out and turned her face toward him, taking a finger to gently touch a scratch marring her delicate skin. “Did Mrs. Henderson do this to you, or was it the cat?”
He felt Harriet shiver ever so slightly as she leaned closer into him, but then she froze, released a breath, and immediately took a step back, leaving him no choice but to withdraw his hand.
“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.”
“I’m hardly satisfied,” Mr. Bambini returned, surprising Oliver when he actually sent him a wink. “I certainly understand that you’re in a difficult position at the moment, given that your fiancée is standing right here, batting those pretty eyes at you, but—”
Oliver held up his hand, cutting Mr. Bambini off. “You’ll leave my fiancée’s pretty eyes out of this, Mr. Bambini, and everything has been settled, at least in my mind. Mrs. Henderson will retain possession of her shop, and you will use the money I gave you to put toward her rent. And, if the woman happens to fall behind on rent next year, you’ll agree to let me know.”
Harriet lifted her chin as the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen spread over her face. “Thank you.”
His “You’re welcome” got lodged in his throat as he found himself lost in the violet pools of her eyes, until Mr. Bambini let out a very large grunt, shook his head at Oliver in obvious disgust, and without a single word, strode out of the room.
“He’s a very unpleasant man,” Harriet said.
“He’s not any more unpleasant than most of the men I deal with on a regular basis, but enough about Mr. Bambini. I think you had a distinct reason for coming here today, and I’m dying of curiosity to learn more about that cat.”
“Curiosity can kill a cat.”
Oliver smiled. “Yes, I’ve heard, but . . . you wouldn’t happen to be trying to distract me now, would you?”
“It would have been much easier to say what I have to say if you’d deliberately evicted Mrs. Henderson and not agreed to pay her rent for a year.”
Taking her arm, Oliver steered her over to a chair in front of the fireplace and helped her into it, before sitting down in the one right next to her. “It troubles me that you would think so poorly of me.”
Harriet leaned forward, surprising him when she placed her hand on his arm, her action causing any thought of troubles to immediately disappear, replaced with something of a more disturbing nature.
“I do apologize, Oliver, and you’re quite right, it was very unkind of me to immediately think the worst about you, but again, it would have made what has to be said so much easier to say.” Her eyes turned suspiciously bright. “My aunt wants me to introduce you to her.”
Oliver frowned. “That’s what’s gotten you so upset? Your aunt? Are you afraid I won’t be receptive to meeting her and that her tender sensibilities will be hurt?”
“Good heavens, no. Jane doesn’t have tender sensibilities, and the last thing in the world I’d want to do is put you into direct contact with her. She’s dangerous.”
“Perhaps you should start from the beginning.”
Twenty minutes later, Harriet finished the sad story of her life with “ . . . and then I told her I’d introduce her to society, but not for a month, since that was the only thing I could come up with spur of the moment.” She bit her lip again. “I know it wasn’t exactly a stellar plan, but in a month’s time, I won’t be traveling in society, so there won’t be anyone for me to introduce her to.”
Pulling his attention away from the bottom lip he still found fascinating, Oliver felt his lips twitch. “You really were in a circus?”
“With everything I’ve just disclosed to you, you’re most interested in the idea I was once in a circus?”
“Well, that explains how you were able to throw yourself from my carriage and not suffer any harm, whereas I almost killed myself in the process.”
Harriet rolled her eyes. “You’re somewhat deranged, but yes, I was in the circus, excelled at tumbling, and would have been magnificent on the wire if my aunt hadn’t pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night to abandon our circus adventure.” She blew out a breath. “She’d gotten a little too greedy sticking her fingers in the owner’s ticket money.”
Oliver smiled. “I imagine you were adorable back then, dressed in a circus outfit and performing for the crowds.”
“I don’t know how adorable I was, given that I was at that somewhat awkward stage. However, I truly adored the circus and loved performing because it gave me a feeling of freedom, but . . . that was a long time ago. As most people discover, real life doesn’t allow much freedom.”
He had the means to live a life of freedom, but he’d never thought about his wealth that way. It was an intriguing idea, though. He could enjoy sailing around in his yacht, showing Harriet different places, and . . .
Shaking himself, he forced aside those disturbing thoughts and tried to concentrate on what Harriet had imparted about her past. Strangely enough, her past didn’t bother him at all, although the thought of her aunt hurting her was enough to set—
“Now that I’ve had time to think about matters, I do believe, in the interest of keeping your reputation safe and my aunt away from you, we’re going to have to part ways and abandon our original plan.”
“That’s a ridiculous idea,” was all he could think to respond.
A spark of temper clouded her eyes
. “It’s not ridiculous at all, and it is the only way I can think of to keep you safe from my aunt.”
He suddenly felt as if he’d been walloped over the head with a heavy object. “Are you saying that—although your aunt has threatened to blackmail you, spewed hateful things about your mother, taken to calling you ‘my pet,’ and sent you a necklace you’re fairly certain she was planning to use to frame you—your biggest concern at the moment is my safety?”
“She’s a very disturbed woman, Oliver. It wouldn’t be fair for me to continue on with you. Jane has information about me that she won’t hesitate to use against you if she comes to the realization I’m not going to be giving in to her demands in the end.”
The sheen of tears now present in Harriet’s eyes almost undid him. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips, a flash of satisfaction flowing over him when the tears immediately disappeared as her eyes widened and he heard her take a swift intake of breath.
“I think you’re forgetting one very important fact,” he said quietly.
An arch of her delicate brow was her only response.
Lowering her hand, even though he longed to kiss it again, he smiled. “I, my dear—and you’ll notice I didn’t call you ‘my pet’—am Oliver Addleshaw. I can guarantee you I’m far more dangerous than your aunt, and I am your best chance of getting away from her. I promise you, here and now, that I will protect you, along with your friends, and if Jane so much as looks at you in a threatening manner, I’ll see to it that she never looks at you again.”
“What’s wrong with you? Why wouldn’t you get yourself as far away from me as possible?”
Before Oliver had a chance to answer, the sound of someone shouting reached them, someone who sounded exactly like Mr. Blodgett.
“Oh no, he’s lost the cat,” Harriet exclaimed, snatching her hand from his before she jumped to her feet and raced out of the room.
It took Oliver only a few seconds to catch up with her, and when he did, the sight that met his eyes had him grinning. Mr. Blodgett was standing inside the private elevator Oliver’s architect had convinced him was not a luxury but a necessity in a house so large, his wrinkled face pressed against the closed metal gate. The cat was sitting directly in front of the gate, licking its paw in what appeared to be a very satisfied manner, as if she’d personally been responsible for the troubling situation at hand.