Chapter 5 #2
Ivy went still. She couldn’t believe it. Cleopatra was protecting King Alfred.
“Oh, my heavens,” Margaret breathed.
Augusta shoved past her sisters. “George! Bad dog!”
Miss Hogspeth drew in a lungful of air. “What is that thing doing?” she shrieked.
Augusta grabbed George by the collar. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hold him when King Alfred took off again, Cleopatra close behind. George tried to follow, dragging a grunting Augusta behind him. “George, calm yourself! Sisters, help me!”
Josie and Margaret sprang into action, each grabbing the dog. King Alfred darted under a chair, then out again, ears flat and eyes wide. Cleopatra paced in front of him, hissing every time George got too close.
Ivy hurried to the chair and dropped to her knees. “Alfred, it’s all right. Come here, boy.”
George barked, but for the moment was contained by the three Merriweather sisters. Unfortunately, Margaret slipped and George twisted free.
In the next instant, a strong arm shot out. In all the commotion, Ivy had completely forgotten about Mr. Hartwell.
He moved fast, intercepting George mid-lunge, grabbing the thick fur near the dog’s collar with practiced confidence. “Easy,” he said firmly. “Easy now, boy.”
George barked again, twisting in his grasp, but Mr. Hartwell held him like he’d done this a thousand times. Maybe he had.
Miss Hogspeth shrieked again as Cleopatra skidded across the floor at her feet. “That feline beast nearly touched me! Get it away! I hate cats!”
“No one touch the rabbit!” Ivy cried as she crawled forward. King Alfred darted out from under the chair and straight into her arms.
Margaret grabbed George’s leash, clipped it onto his collar, and handed it to Mr. Hartwell. He gave it a sharp tug, guiding the dog away. “Quick, we’ll put him in the kitchen. Josie, help us!”
Josie, who had caught Cleopatra, clutched the cat to her chest despite her struggles. “Stop that, you traitorous beast. You’re going upstairs.”
Cleopatra yowled in protest and continued to squirm.
Miss Hogspeth climbed onto a desk with a dramatic huff, her skirts lifted scandalously high. “I will not be mauled by livestock! Do you hear me?”
Ivy didn’t care for the woman’s dramatics. She wrapped King Alfred tighter in her arms and headed for his cage. “You poor thing,” she murmured. “George didn’t mean it. Honest. I’m sure once you two get used to each other, he’ll be fine. Maybe.”
Behind her, George barked once more, then fell silent as Margaret shoved him through the door with Mr. Hartwell’s help and guided him into the kitchen. When the door shut behind them, silence bathed the office.
Josie stood there, Cleopatra still clutched to her chest. “Well. That was something.”
“It certainly was,” Miss Hogspeth spat, still standing on the desk. “What sort of place is this? I have a right mind to take my business elsewhere.”
Augusta pressed a hand to her temple and rubbed. “Perhaps you should.” She dropped her hand and looked at Miss Hogspeth. “It’s obvious the three applicants we have are not to your liking.”
Miss Hogspeth gasped. “Well, I never!”
“Miss Hogspeth, may I help you down?” Augusta asked.
Josie gave her a look that clearly said better you than me and headed for the back, Cleopatra still in her arms.
Before she reached the door, it opened and Margaret reappeared, cheeks flushed. “George is secured.”
Mr. Hartwell followed her out, his gaze landing on Ivy. For a long moment, he simply stared, then glanced at King Alfred in his cage. “Well, I’ll be,” he said. He stepped closer. “Is he calm now?”
“Yes, he’s fine,” Ivy said. “He was just panicked earlier. You would be too if you had a big sheepdog chasing you.”
“Of course he was,” Mr. Hartwell said. “Believe me, I’ve had worse things chase me. I know exactly how he feels.”
Augusta exhaled. “Well, I must say, everyone handled that well.”
Miss Hogspeth huffed and climbed down from the desk.
“This is outrageous! Absolutely outrageous! Animals running wild in an office like this.” She looked around.
“This is no place for a lady.” Miss Hogspeth pointed at Augusta.
“I will be informing every newspaper in town about the sham of a business you run here.”
Augusta opened her mouth, but Mr. Hartwell spoke first. “Miss Hogspeth, forgive me, but how many wealthy men of means do you think have written to this office seeking a mail-order bride?”
Miss Hogspeth blinked. “Well… um…”
“Men with estates, staff, and lives of leisure?” he continued. “Men with enough money to indulge someone who never intends to lift a finger?”
Miss Hogspeth sniffed. “That is precisely what I…”
“If such men exist,” he cut in. “Do you honestly believe they would choose a mail-order bride arrangement?”
Silence filled the office.
Ivy watched as Miss Hogspeth’s cheeks flushed red.
“Given what you’re seeking,” he added. “I’m afraid the Sisters’ Mail-Order Bride Company may not be a good fit for you.”
Miss Hogspeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she nodded. “You’re quite right,” she snapped. “This entire establishment is beneath me.”
In one swift motion, she gathered her skirt and marched for the door. “I wouldn’t marry any man associated with this circus!” The door slammed behind her.
Augusta stared at Mr. Hartwell a moment. “My goodness, young man. What have you done?”
He shrugged. “She wasn’t a good fit.”
Ivy stared at him, admiration pooling in her chest.
He glanced at King Alfred again. “Besides, how many wealthy men of means do you actually hear from?”
Augusta sighed. “You’re right. Thank you.” Her gaze moved between Mr. Hartwell and Ivy. “To both of you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ivy said, then swallowed. She met Mr. Hartwell’s gaze for a brief instant and swore something unspoken passed between them.
“All right,” Augusta said briskly. “Let’s clean up and get back to work.”
Ivy nodded and realized she hadn’t just found a job, but the beginning of something far more complicated.
She glanced at Mr. Hartwell one last time, then returned to the table she’d been working at.