After a Fashion by Jen Turano

Author:Jen Turano [Turano, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Christian, Historical, Romance, General, FIC042030, FIC042040, FIC027050
ISBN: 9781441265135
Google: fFd-BAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00MBTYF5E
Publisher: Baker Books
Published: 2015-02-23T16:00:00+00:00

13

It was now Oliver’s staunch belief that ladies—more specifically, Miss Harriet Peabody—had been put on the earth in order to create havoc with his well-organized life.

She’d had the audacity to reprimand him the day before at Mrs. Hart’s house—something he found somewhat confusing, especially since he was doing her a service.

Didn’t she realize that?

Shoving aside a stack of business papers he’d brought home from his city office that, oddly enough, couldn’t hold his attention, Oliver leaned back in his chair and looked out the window.

It was all Harriet’s fault, this inability to concentrate on work and his suffering from an almost constant feeling of disgruntlement. Quite honestly, he was coming to the rapid conclusion that the wool he would acquire from the duke, if all went according to plan, wasn’t looking nearly as appealing anymore. If it weren’t for the fact he couldn’t abide the thought of Harriet returning to that miserable little place she called home, he’d call the whole thing off immediately.

She’d actually lectured him about Mr. Clay, and if he wasn’t much mistaken, she thought he should apologize to the man and offer his son a position in management.

She didn’t understand business at all—which was unfortunate considering she wanted to open up a shop of her own.

He would be forced to continue checking in on her if only to offer her his invaluable business savvy.

Strangely enough, that idea was somewhat appealing instead of daunting, but why . . .

A knock on the door disrupted his thoughts before Mr. Blodgett stepped into the room.

“Mr. Ruff is here, Mr. Addleshaw. Shall I tell him you’re at home or should I have him make an appointment to see you later?”

“There’s no need for me to make an appointment, Mr. Blodgett,” Silas said, brushing past the butler. “I can clearly see Oliver’s here.” He strode across the room, but paused and turned back to Mr. Blodgett. “I wouldn’t be opposed to accepting a meal if that temperamental chef of Oliver’s can be bothered to rustle something up.”

“Mr. Addleshaw’s chef is not here at the moment, Mr. Ruff,” Mr. Blodgett said coolly. “But, I’m sure Mrs. Rollins, our temperamental housekeeper, will be able to rustle you up something at least edible.”

“Where’s your chef?” Silas asked, lowering himself into a chair that faced Oliver’s desk as Mr. Blodgett disappeared with what sounded like a sniff trailing after him.

Not particularly caring to share the explanation that his chef was currently cooking away over at Abigail’s, Oliver shrugged. “He’s apparently not here, but, what are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you back from West Virginia for at least a week.”

Silas leaned forward, flicked open Oliver’s humidor box, helped himself to a cigar, and a moment later disappeared behind a thick cloud of smoke. A full minute of silence settled over Oliver’s office as Silas puffed away, until the man suddenly leaned through the smoke, the expression on his face hardly reassuring. “I’m afraid events took an unexpected turn in West Virginia. Disturbingly enough, I got run out of town.

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