Free After a Fashion by Jen Turano Page A

scenery, the queasiness becoming more pronounced the longer she contemplated the mess she’d gotten herself into. As they traveled out of the well-heeled part of the city and into her world, the ramifications of what she’d agreed to settled over her, and panic replaced the queasiness. Just as she was aboutto roll down the window and ask the driver to take her back to Oliver’s house so she could explain she could not go through with his scheme, the carriage rumbled to a stop.
    A moment later, the door opened and Darren stuck his head in. “I do beg your pardon, Miss Peabody, but I’m afraid Mr. Addleshaw gave me the wrong address.”
    Looking past the man, Harriet saw a four-story, extremely narrow boardinghouse. It looked rather forlorn with its sagging shutters, peeling brown paint, and general air of neglect. “There’s been no mistake. This is where I live.”
    “Are you certain?”
    “Aren’t you certain where you live?”
    Darren frowned but offered her his hand. Taking a second to stuff the velvet bag into her reticule, she took Darren’s offered hand and stepped down from the carriage. She tried to pull her hand from Darren’s, but oddly enough, the man seemed remarkably unwilling to let go of it. “I will need my hand, sir.”
    “I’m not comfortable leaving you here, Miss Peabody. I think you should get back into the carriage and I’ll take you to Mr. Addleshaw’s house.”
    “If you think you’re uncomfortable now, just think how uncomfortable you’ll be trying to explain to Mr. Addleshaw why another unwanted lady is trying to move into his house.”
    Darren immediately released his hold on her. “He does seem opposed to ladies moving in uninvited.” He suddenly smiled. “Oh look, your grandmother is waiting for you on the stoop, which explains why you’ve chosen to live in this area.”
    Craning her neck, Harriet caught sight of Mrs. Palmer, her landlady, waving madly at her. Harriet raised a hand, but before she could do more than give a halfhearted wave, Mrs. Palmer was joined on the stoop by her four yappy little dogs. To her dismay, the chorus of excited yaps immediately drew Buford’s interest. He bolted out of the carriage before Harriet had thepresence of mind to grab his collar and took off toward the yippers, howling in a manner that stood the hair straight up on the back of Harriet’s neck.
    As she dashed forward to catch him, she could only pray that Buford wasn’t too hungry.

5

    T ripping over the sodden skirt sticking to her legs, Harriet stumbled on the one and only step leading up to the boardinghouse. Regaining her balance, she heaved a huge sigh of relief when she discovered Buford, not enjoying a tasty treat of annoying yippers but rolled on his back as the four little dogs clambered around him.
    “Hello, dear,” Mrs. Palmer said. “That’s quite the beast you’ve got. May I assume he belongs to that handsome young man over there?”
    Harriet lifted her head and saw that Darren had resumed his seat on the carriage, although he hadn’t urged the horses into motion yet.
    “Everything all right?” he called.
    “We’re fine,” Harriet called back before she turned to face her landlady. “Do forgive me, Mrs. Palmer. Buford must have scared you half to death when he charged up here.”
    Mrs. Palmer waved Harriet’s apology away. “Don’t give it another thought, Miss Peabody.” She smiled. “I must say, I’m delighted to discover you’ve finally gotten a suitor.” Her smile dimmed. “Having said that, I do feel compelled to offer you asmall piece of advice. It really isn’t advisable to accept a ride in such a fine carriage, especially since you’re drenched to the skin. Why, your young man might get in horrible trouble if you’ve stained the upholstery and if the owner of that carriage discovers his driver has been squiring his ladylove as well as his muddy dog around in it.”
    “Those are excellent points, Mrs. Palmer, but that driver is not my