His answering chuckle warmed her heart and made her feel strangely at ease with him. In a comforting sort of way that was wholly unexpected. “Hopefully, with time, that will change. After all, I do have my reputation to consider. If word of my awkwardness were to get out, I’d be socially ruined.”
She laughed and the door from the print room opened.
“We ought to get back to work,” Oliver said.
Harriet nodded. She bit her lip and gave Mr. Evans a hesitant look before saying, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Michaels. We’ll leave it at that then, shall we?”
“Indeed.” She followed Oliver back into the print room and went to prepare for the next set of sorts.
“What secret?” Oliver asked as he took his seat.
“Nothing.” She waved one hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re blushing, Harry.” His voice was quiet but firm.
Harriet stilled. Her mind raced. She had to think of something to say to dismiss whatever suspicions Oliver might be having. Eventually, she shrugged. “I’m simply a bit overheated, that’s all. Perhaps we should open another window?”
She deliberately tugged at her cravat for added effect and avoided glancing in Oliver’s direction, fearful he’d see much more than he ought if he caught her gaze in that moment. Instead she busied herself with tidying up some of the forms she’d given to James earlier. He’d set them to the left of where she worked, so she didn’t have to go get them herself.
Thankfully, Oliver did as she suggested without further comment. Their work resumed and Harriet relaxed.
“Did you speak with your sister?” Oliver asked at the end of the day.
“I did,” Harriet slowly informed him. “She’s not very keen on spending time with a stranger, but I’ll do what I can to convince her.”
“Let me know once you do. The Ugly Grouse has an excellent fiddler on Thursday evenings. It would be great if we could go listen to him together.”
Harriet quite liked that idea, but once again, she worried it might overcomplicate matters. Still, she smiled and nodded as though in agreement. “I’d enjoy that.”
“See you tomorrow,” James said as he headed out.
“I’m off too,” Matthew said.
“You coming?” Oliver asked once the others were gone.
“In a bit,” Harriet said, hoping to avoid having to walk with him again. His eagerness for a closer relationship with her would only lead to trouble. Already, she feared, she’d revealed too much without thinking. The same was true of Mr. Evans. In future, she had to avoid both men to the best of her ability. “You go ahead.”
Oliver hesitated, but when Harriet turned her back to him and proceeded to check the print they’d produced that afternoon, he wished her a pleasant evening and left.
She counted to ten after hearing the door swing shut, before sagging against the back of her chair. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tossed the papers she’d been reviewing aside before raking her hair with her fingers. Good lord. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Oliver’s feelings, but better that than run the risk of him finding out she’d deceived everyone, including him.
Just to be sure he wouldn’t be waiting for her outside, Harriet chose to stay in the print room a while longer. Which wasn’t much of a chore since there was plenty to keep her busy.
She was in the process of tying the last of the bundled manuscripts together to save Richard the extra work tomorrow when the door leading out to the hallway opened and Mary appeared.
“Mr. Michaels. I’m glad to see you’re still here. It must be a week since I saw you last.”
Harriet suppressed a groan and tried to return Mary’s smile while instinctively backing up a step. “Good to see you, Mary. You, er…look well.”
Mary’s cheeks pinkened and her expression appeared slightly bashful, though Harriet imagined it might be an act. Especially if what Oliver had said about her was true. “Ever the gentleman you are, Mr. Michaels. I must say, you’re even more handsome than usual today, what with your hair all scruffy and such.”
She set the broom she’d brought with her aside and swept toward Harriet with too much determination for Harriet’s liking. Unfortunately, the work table directly behind her stopped her from retreating farther, allowing Mary to reach her within a few paces.
Harriet leaned back as Mary stepped forward, straight into her personal space.
“I wonder if you might be willing to add a bit of distance, Mary. You’re awfully close.”
