After a Fashion (A Class of Their Own #1)(10)



“I have the coat,” Miss Peabody called as she rushed across the courtyard, coming to a stop a few feet away from Mrs. Birmingham, probably because the woman was glaring at her again. She held out the coat and didn’t even flinch when Mrs. Birmingham stalked her way and snatched it out of her hand.

Marching back to the carriage, Mrs. Birmingham wrenched opened the door, shoved the coat at her daughter, and threw a few hatboxes out. She held out her hand, sent Oliver a telling look, and then smiled ever so sweetly at him when he helped her into the carriage. Once she got settled, her smile disappeared right before she snapped her fingers in Miss Peabody’s direction. “Make yourself useful and get those boxes up on top of the carriage.”

“There’s no need for that,” Oliver said, summoning the young man who was standing off to the side of the carriage. “May I assume you’re the driver?”

“I’m Timothy, sir, and yes, I’m Mrs. Fienman’s driver.”

Oliver drew out his billfold, extracted a few bills, and handed them to Timothy. “I would appreciate it if you’d see these two ladies safely delivered to the Grand Central Hotel for me.”

“But what about Miss Peabody? If I put those boxes on the top, she won’t have a place to sit.”

“I’ll send her along in one of my carriages.”

Mrs. Birmingham sniffed, loudly. “That’s completely unacceptable, Mr. Addleshaw. She’s a mere hat girl. Besides, after the abhorrent assault on my daughter, I would imagine a long walk home is just what she needs. It’ll give her time to . . .”

Her mouth snapped shut when Oliver sent a not so subtle nod at Miss Birmingham, a lady who’d behaved far more abhorrently than Miss Peabody. The carriage door closed a second later, and a few minutes after that, after loading the extra hatboxes on the roof, Timothy pulled the carriage away.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Miss Peabody proclaimed.

“Pleasant is hardly the word I’d use to describe what just happened.”

“True, but I thought it would be rude of me to say what I really thought about the situation, and . . .” Miss Peabody’s words trailed off when Buford suddenly slunk into view, his ears drooping.

To Oliver’s dismay, his dog had a lady’s hat clamped between his teeth, one that resembled the hat Miss Peabody had been wearing before Miss Birmingham snatched it off her head. Buford skulked up to Miss Peabody, leaned against the fabric of her skirt, and dropped the hat at her feet.

Smiling, she gave him a scratch behind the ears before she picked up the hat. “I don’t think I’ll be wearing this again.” Tucking it into the crook of her arm, she caught his eye. “While it was generous of you to offer me a way home, Mr. Addleshaw, I’m quite fond of walking, so I won’t need to take you up on your generosity.”

“It’s about to rain.”

“Then I suppose I should get on my way.” She took a step back. “It was interesting meeting you, and I wish you well in your future encounters with the Birmingham family.”

“As bad luck would have it, Mr. Birmingham and I are actually scheduled to meet here at my home later today. Originally, we were supposed to discuss matters of business, but now I’m afraid we’ll need to delve into the personal. I’m hopeful he won’t be too disappointed to learn I have no intention of moving forward with his daughter, although I expect her behavior won’t affect our business plans.”

“If I were you, I’d reconsider having anything to do with the Birmingham family, even matters of a business nature.” She sent him a nod and then began walking away without another word.

For some inexplicable reason, the very idea that she didn’t seem to want to linger in his company intrigued him. He started after her. “Miss Peabody, wait.”

Miss Peabody slowed but didn’t stop. “Was there something else you needed, Mr. Addleshaw?”

“I was wondering if you’d care to return to the house and perhaps enjoy a cup of tea with me.”

“I don’t believe that’s necessary.”

“It might settle your nerves.”

“My nerves rarely get unsettled.”

“Fascinating,” he muttered, earning a widening of the eyes from Miss Peabody before she turned and quickened her pace.

He was left staring after her as the most unusual thoughts whirled around his head. She’d been abused quite thoroughly by Mrs. and Miss Birmingham—and Buford, for that matter—and yet she seemed remarkably unscathed from her unpleasant encounter with them. Granted, her hair was straggling down her back and her dress was smeared with dirt, but her head was held high as she marched down the street. That gave clear testimony to the fact she was a strong woman, probably self-sufficient, and completely different from any woman he’d ever known.

“Miss Peabody, please, I need another moment of your time,” he heard pop out of his mouth, even though he had no idea why he needed more of her time—he simply wanted it.

Miss Peabody stopped, turned, and waited for him to join her. “Mr. Addleshaw, forgive me, but you were the one who pointed out it looks ready to rain. Since I have no desire to get soaked, I really must be on my way.”

“Are you married?”

“I certainly have no idea why my marital status is of interest to you, but no, I’m not married, which is why I told you my name is Miss Peabody.”

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