The meetings took place during the only time Harriet had free from work and offered a lovely escape from the pretense she lived on a daily basis.
“Did you do the sums I prepared?” she asked Lucy.
“Yes, but I struggled with the last ones. The directions you left me were hard to follow.”
“I’ll go over it with you once we’ve eaten.” Harriet collected the two single plates they owned and set them on the table. It helped that her sister was of an age now where she could at least help with basic house work. Like ensuring the space was swept once a day, the beds made, the surfaces cleaned, and the washing up done so Harriet didn’t have to complete these chores when she returned home.
As was often the case, it was past ten o’clock before she was able to climb into bed, exhausted, and well aware that she’d only get four hours of sleep before she had to get up again and start a new day.
“Good night,” she whispered before turning the light down.
“Good night,” Lucy answered.
Harriet listened to her sister’s gentle breathing until it slowed and then willed herself to fall asleep too. But doing so was a struggle. Her thoughts kept returning to her conversation with Oliver, to his mention of Mary, and to his opinion of Mr. Evans, which reminded her of her own encounter with the man yesterday.
It was silly of her to go over it all again, but she honestly couldn’t help it. He’d made an impression. His touch had seared her. Just thinking of him made her heart beat faster. And while she’d done what she could to avoid him today, she couldn’t deny that she harbored a secret desire for their paths to cross again soon. If only for her to experience once more the jolt of pleasure he’d caused.
But whatever hopes she might have allowed herself to have in this regard were disappointed during the next few days when work got in the way. Kept busy in the printing room, she had no cause to venture into the front of the building where Mr. Evans would likely be found.
This changed the following week when Harriet went to inform Mr. Hudson that they were beginning to run low on ink. Mr. Evans, whose desk was located near Mr. Hudson’s greeted her politely when she arrived in the front office, the brief attention he gave her instantly flipping her stomach.
Despite her flustered state, she managed to keep her voice level while wishing him a good afternoon in return. She then turned to her employer, ever conscious of Mr. Evans and the searing effect he had on her nerves.
Fearful Mr. Hudson might catch her blushing, she fled back to the print room as soon as she’d relayed her message, but it took a good while before her pulse slowed to a normal pace. Wanting to see Mr. Evans again had clearly been foolish. She ought to forget him and focus on work.
A sound decision that fell apart the next day day when the door to the print room opened while she was assembling a sort. Harriet didn’t look up from her work, but a prickly sensation at the nape of her neck alerted her to Mr. Evans’s presence. It was the most bizarre experience yet.
“Mr. Michaels?” he asked, his firm voice sending a shiver across her shoulders. “A word, if I may?”
“Just a moment,” Harriet informed him. “Give me the next word, Oliver.”
Oliver did as she asked so she could finish the form she’d been working on. She slid it across to James who began adding ink while Matthew placed paper in the printing frame.
Harriet stood, rolled her shoulders, and stretched her back. “Mind if we take a five-minute break?”
Oliver glanced at Mr. Evans, then returned his attention to Harriet. He shrugged. “If you like.”
Something in his tone suggested he wasn’t pleased by the interruption. Harriet didn’t blame him. They usually ran to the end of a chapter before taking a break, yet they’d only completed half.
She gave him an apologetic look. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Mr. Evans said once they’d stepped out into the narrow transitional space between the print room and the front office. A door to the right led to the privy while another opened up to a modest storage room where Mary kept her cleaning supplies. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you for a couple of days but never found the chance to. Eventually I decided to seek you out.”
It was ridiculous how much pleasure this remark gave her. She actually had to make a conscious effort to keep from grinning, since that would surely put Mr. Evans off.
So she crossed her arms and attempted a casual look. “Really?”
“The way we met keeps nagging at me,” Mr. Evans explained. “I’d really like to make it up to you in some way by taking you out for a drink.”
Harriet almost laughed. Her life had truly taken a turn toward satire when not only one but two attractive men were vying for her attention, while thinking she was a man. Honestly, she’d never before been so popular as she was as the working-class Mr. Harry Michaels, instead of the gently bredMissHarriet Michaels.
Had she known, she might have taken to dressing like a man long ago.
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you, but I really can’t spare the time.”
Mr. Evans met her gaze and held it for a moment before eventually nodding. “Fair enough. I just didn’t want your only impression of me to be based on my constant knack for shoving you sideways.”
She couldn’t help but send him a cheeky smile while saying, “I’m afraid it’s too late, Mr. Evans. The damage is already done.”
