“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Honestly, I don’t see how we’ll ever get that blasted book printed on time when he keeps making mistakes.” Mr. Hudson eyed her with a shrewd look. “I don’t suppose…”
“What?”
“Nah…” He waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it. It was merely a thought. A foolish one at that.”
“I’d still like to hear it,” Harriet said.
He smiled broadly. “I was only going to ask if you’d like to come back, but judging from the way you’re dressed, I daresay your luck has changed and you no longer need the earnings.”
“I’m to marry,” she informed him. “Mr. Evans has made me an offer and I have accepted.”
Mr. Hudson whistled and rocked back on his heels. “Has he now?”
“We’d love for you to attend the service if you’re able. It will be at St. George’s. Two weeks from this coming Saturday, ten o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.” He pursed his lips. “You should know that Mr. Evans did what he could to convince me to keep you on. I’m sorry to say that I just couldn’t risk it. I—”
The print room door opened and Oliver appeared. “Apologies for the interruption, Mr. Hudson, but…Harriet?”
Mr. Hudson glanced between them. “You knew of her disguise?”
“I, um…” A deep shade of red tainted Oliver’s cheeks. “I found out by chance.”
“On account of something I said,” Harriet hastened to add. “A silly mistake.”
“Right.” Mr. Hudson nodded in Oliver’s direction. “What did you wish to tell me?”
Oliver blinked. “Oh. Just that George got angry when I insisted he try and work faster. Words were spoken and he left.”
“He left?”
“I realize I probably shouldn’t have called him an imbecile. I take the blame for that. But honestly, Mr. Hudson, considering all the mistakes he’s made, we’d have been better off if I both read and placed the sorts. Would have taken the same amount of time, but at least it would have been accurate.”
Mr. Hudson muttered a curse. “Do that for now and I’ll try to find a solution.”
“I can help for a bit,” Harriet offered. “I’ve got about fifteen minutes, give or take. Should be enough for at least one page.”
“Brilliant.” Oliver beamed. “Please let her do it, Mr. Hudson.”
“Of course, I’ll let her do it,” Mr. Hudson said. “I’m keen on success, not failure. But what about Mr. Evans? What will he say to this?”
“Mr. Evans?” Oliver asked.
“My fiancé,” Harriet explained.
Oliver grinned. “Congratulations, Harriet. That’s smashing news. When’s the big day?”
“Two weeks from Saturday, ten o’clock at St. George’s. You’re invited to attend.”
“And I’ll be welcome? Looking like this?” He sent her a toothy grin.
She chuckled. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to wash and put on a set of clean clothes for the occasion. Now, if you want my help, we’d best get started. I’ve got to go soon.”
“It’s bloody good to have you back,” Oliver told her as he led the way to the print room where James and Matthew were adding paper to the press. “Look who’s here!”
“A woman?” James asked.
