After a Fashion (43 page)

Harriet began shaking her head even before Oliver finished speaking. “I can’t let you do that. Your happiness is directly connected with your business, and I won’t be responsible for ending that happiness.”

“While it is true that I did find a great deal of happiness—or what I believed to be happiness—in my business endeavors, the key word here is
did
.” Oliver sent her a crooked grin. “I’ve recently discovered that
you
are my happiness, and the only way that happiness will end is if you refuse to stay with me.”

“Oh, that was a good one,” Lucetta sighed before she pressed her lips together when Oliver threw her a scowl.

Harriet sucked in a breath and then had to suck in another when she began to feel a little light-headed. “I don’t understand how this happened. Our agreement never had us staying together.”

Smiling somewhat tenderly, Oliver nodded. “I’m not exactly sure how this happened either, but I’ve already spoken with your father, and he’s given me his blessing, as has your mother, if you’re agreeable to what I’m about to offer.”

“Of course she’ll be agreeable,” Lucetta said before Harriet could get a single word out of her mouth.

“And if I could just make the tiniest suggestion, Oliver,” Millie added, “I do believe this is the point where you should get down on one knee.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Oliver said between gritted teeth as he tossed a glare to Millie before he was suddenly kneeling in front of Harriet, taking her hand in his. He pressed it to his lips and then, with his other hand, reached into his pocket and pulled out Abigail’s ring. “She insisted I bring this with me and wanted me to tell you that you’re the granddaughter she always wanted, which is why she thought this ring would truly make the perfect engagement ring for you.” He leaned closer. “Miss Harriet Peabody, or rather Lady Harriet, as you are now formally known, would you do me the supreme honor of becoming my wife?”

She looked at him for a long moment. “No.”

Lucetta and Millie began to sputter even as a look of shock entered Oliver’s eyes. “You won’t marry me?”

Harriet squeezed the hand that still clasped hers and felt a little giddy as she looked into the eyes of the gentleman she knew without a doubt she would love forever. “I won’t agree to marry you unless
you
agree to remain living in New York.”

“But . . . what about your family, and what about taking up your expected role as an aristocrat?”

“I’ll never think of myself as an aristocrat, Oliver, no matter that my family bears a title. I’m simply Harriet, and I do believe my parents and sister would be fine with the idea of us visiting them for a few months every year.” She smiled. “I also won’t marry you unless you agree to continue on with your business—although not to the extent you’ve been doing in the past—and . . . I’d still like to open up my shop someday.”

The smallest hint of a smile creased Oliver’s lips. “Very well, I can agree to those terms, but you need to agree to some of mine.”

“You might want to stop while you’re ahead,” Lucetta muttered, as Millie began nodding rather vigorously.

Harriet swallowed a laugh and looked back to Oliver. “What are your terms?”

“Well, for one, I’d like to help you produce and market that amazing bustle of yours.”

Tapping her finger on her chin, Harriet tilted her head. “I could live with that, but you’ll have to agree not to be bossy about it.”

“Bossiness is part of my charm.”

“And what else?” Harriet asked as she tried to keep from grinning.

“I’d like you to help me start up a charitable organization, one that will allow me to use my considerable funds to help the poor living in the tenement slums.”

Tears blinded her for a second. “I could do that.”

“I know you can, and . . . I think you should allow Abigail to help your mother plan our wedding—if you agree to marry me, that is.”

“Of course she must help, but . . . where would we get married?”

“Good question,” Millie said before she snapped her mouth shut when Oliver glanced her way.

Oliver returned his attention to Harriet. “Well, your parents are firmly entrenched within British society, and they’ve only recently found you, which means they’re going to want to see the marriage take place in England, but . . . would you be comfortable getting married over there or would you prefer to have it done here in the States so that Reverend Gilmore could officiate at it?”

Lucetta raised her hand. “I do so hate to interrupt, but why don’t you have two weddings? That way no one will be left out, such as me or Millie, since we might have a hard time making it over to England.” She smiled. “The theater doesn’t really like it when one of their main actresses takes off in the middle of a production.”

Smiling, Harriet nodded. “That’s a fabulous idea, Lucetta, and would make it so much easier on everyone here in the States, but . . . that might take quite a few months to plan, and I’m not certain . . .”

“You want to wait that long?” Oliver finished for her.

Heat flooded her face, but she was spared a response when Oliver, who’d been kneeling this entire time, got to his feet and squeezed the hand he was still holding. “While I would love nothing more than to marry you immediately, I think taking some time to get a wedding or two pulled together is a wonderful plan. It’ll allow us the chance to really get to know each other. It will also allow you to get to know your family without all the pesky distractions of being a new wife. And I know my mother and father would be most put out if we got married while they were still over in India.” He smiled. “My mother is going to adore you, as is my father.”

She wrinkled her nose. “How do you know that?”

“Because my grandfather adores you, and he’s a very good judge of character. I would have to imagine, if you accept my proposal—and this proposal being a real one this time—he’ll send a telegram off to my parents immediately, telling them of my good fortune.”

Happiness threatened to bubble out of her every pore. “It’s so odd to think that I’m soon going to have more family surrounding me than I ever imagined.”

“So you’ll marry me?”

Finding it next to impossible to speak around the lump that clogged her throat, Harriet managed a nod.

Satisfaction settled in Oliver’s eyes before they suddenly darkened, even as he squeezed her hand once again. “You have made me an incredibly happy gentleman, but I must ask you one more thing. . . . Do you think that, perhaps, you might hold me in a bit of affection? I certainly don’t expect you to proclaim an
undying love at this point, since we aren’t well acquainted with each other, but I do hope that you have some type of tender feelings for me.”

Tears stung her eyes again and blurred her vision. “Good heavens, Oliver, I do beg your pardon. Here I’ve been so diligent with my demands that I never even thought to tell you about my feelings.”

She drew in a deep breath and released it in a rush. “I hold you in very deep affection, and even though, as you stated, we haven’t known each other long, I must admit that I’ve fallen quite a bit in love with you, and—”

Before she could finish speaking, she suddenly found herself firmly held in Oliver’s arms. He bent toward her, but just as his lips were about to claim hers, he stilled, lifted his head, and settled his attention on Lucetta and Millie, who were both watching them with their mouths gaping open. “Ladies, I think it might be for the best if you went back to the kitchen.”

“But it was just getting good,” Millie complained.

“The last thing I need is for the two of you to call out suggestions while I kiss my true fiancée for the first time.”

“Maybe you
need
suggestions,” Lucetta pointed out before she laughed when Oliver arched a brow her way. She grabbed Millie’s hand, and they made a hasty retreat, their snorts of laughter drifting through the now closed kitchen door.

Anticipation shot through her when Oliver settled his full attention on her once again. He lifted both of his hands, cradled her face, and then drew near, his lips pressing against hers. She clutched the lapels of his finely made jacket and pulled him closer as tingles shot up her spine.

Buford’s howl caused them to break apart, but Oliver kept his arm around her as he looked at his dog. “What in the world is the matter with you?”

Lumbering slowly to his feet, Buford took a moment to
stretch, apparently oblivious to the fact he’d interrupted a special moment. He released a yawn and then moved to the door, lifting a paw to scratch at it. When Oliver made no move for the door, Buford let out a yip and scratched it again.

Releasing a sigh, Oliver reluctantly stepped away from her. “I think he needs to go outside, but he has miserable timing. Perhaps, though, since this is his idea, he won’t be so hesitant to move down the steps.” Walking over to the door, Oliver opened it but then froze. “I almost forgot something.” He looked back at Harriet. “You should come outside with me, but you’ll need to close your eyes.”

“You’re not going to try and lead me down the steps with my eyes closed, are you?” Harriet asked as she went to join Oliver. “Because, though I’m not remotely in the mood to argue with you, those steps are tricky at the best of times, and Buford might need some assistance as well, and . . .”

Harriet stopped speaking when Oliver placed a finger over her lips. “Fine, don’t close your eyes.” He turned, stepped out on the landing, and whistled.

Curiosity had Harriet joining him. She looked over the railing and discovered Darren down below, leading a beautiful white horse away from Oliver’s carriage.

Her breath caught in her throat. “You remembered.”

Taking her hand in his, Oliver nodded. “Of course I remembered. I willingly admit I’m not exactly a knight in shining armor, or a prince charming, no matter that you claimed I was, but I am perfectly capable of riding off with you into the sunset.” He frowned. “Although, now that I think about it, it’s midafternoon and the sun still has hours left in the sky.” Shrugging, he sent her a smile. “That won’t ruin this for you, will it? I mean, I could always come back and whisk you off at sunset, but that might be a little anticlimactic.”

“I think riding into the sunshine sounds just as lovely as riding into the sunset.”

Oliver looked at her with eyes that were distinctly twinkling. “We’re going to make a wonderful pair, you and I, and I promise you, I’ll do everything within my power to make you happy.”

“I should say so or you’ll have to answer to me and Millie.” Lucetta stepped out on the landing to join them with eyes that were suspiciously bright. She glanced down and smiled. “Well, it seems as if your fairy tale is just waiting to begin, Harriet.” She stepped up to Buford and gave him a pat. “Millie and I will look after the pooch.” She caught Harriet’s eye. “Go.”

Harriet gave Lucetta and then Millie a hug and, with anticipation flowing through her, took Oliver’s hand and raced down the steep steps. He helped her up on the back of the white steed, and while she waited for him to join her, she realized that God had sent her more than just the something wonderful she’d requested. He’d sent her an entire family and a prince—if a rather surly one—and she knew without a single doubt that she was going to live from that moment forward happily-ever-after.

Epilogue

T
aking a moment to simply enjoy the quiet that surrounded him, Reverend Gilmore settled into the pew he’d sat in when he’d counseled Oliver a few days before. He’d just returned from seeing Harriet and Oliver off to London on Oliver’s yacht, their beaming faces giving testimony to the love they’d recently admitted they shared for one another. The duke and his duchess had been by their side, along with the delightful Lady Victoria, but Reverend Gilmore hadn’t been sad to see Harriet leave the shores of New York. He knew she’d be back eventually, and then he’d be given the honor of performing their wedding ceremony in this very church.

Granted, the plan was for her to be married first in London, surrounded by her new family, but the second wedding would serve to honor the union God had so very expertly brought together.

He looked up at the cross hanging behind the pulpit and folded his hands.
Lord
,
I must thank you for granting me the prayer I
prayed to you in regard to my dear Harriet. You
surpassed anything I could have expected for her, and for
that, I’m deeply grateful.

He paused to gather his thoughts before a grin teased his lips. Bowing his head once again, he took a deep breath and slowly released it.
Now then, I’d like to discuss Millie, if
you’ve got a moment.

Jen Turano,
author of
A Change of Fortune, A Most Peculiar Circumstance, A Talent
for Trouble
,
A Match of Wits,
and
After a Fashion
is a graduate of the University of Akron with a degree in clothing and textiles. She is a member of ACFW and lives in a suburb of Denver, Colorado. Visit her website at
www.jenturano.com
.

Books by Jen Turano

A Change of Fortune

A Most Peculiar Circumstance

A Talent for Trouble

A Match of Wits

After a Fashion