The door stood open to the garden yet still the heavy fragrance in the conservatory was nearly overwhelming.
Harriet glanced at Frances out of the corner of her eye, pleased her friend hadn’t taken offense at finding Harriet walking with Joseph that morning.
Frances hadn’t questioned Joseph’s comment that they’d just come upon one another. Thank goodness he’d thought to offer the explanation so calmly. Guilt had heated Harriet’s cheeks and caused words to fail her.
She’d feared that if Frances looked at her closely, she’d know what had happened between her and Joseph. Even now, the urge to set down the flowers and press her hands against her hot cheeks to cool them was tempting.
Never would she have guessed this morning when she woke that she’d share a kiss with Joseph. Nor that she’d feel so much when she did. To have him mention repeating the experience made it clear he’d enjoyed it as much as she had.
She couldn’t tell Frances any of that.
What an impossible situation. Thank goodness Frances hadn’t mentioned the messages again.
Her friend finished the arrangement she was working on then joined Harriet.
“There hasn’t been a message today as of yet,” she whispered.
Harriet smothered a groan. Clearly, she’d been relieved too soon.
“What do you think that means?” Frances asked.
“Perhaps he’s been busy.” She clenched her jaw at the words, thinking of why he’d been busy for at least part of the morning.
“Hmm. I hope I wasn’t too forward.”
Harriet didn’t know how to answer that, especially when most of what Frances had written had been Harriet’s words.
Unease crept through her. What if Joseph asked her if she was the author of the messages?
Should she say no and leave it at that? But she didn’t want to lie, and omission was a form of lying. The thought was disheartening. In truth, she was lying to Frances by not telling her how she felt about Joseph and the moments they’d shared.
There was no easy resolution to the dilemma. She didn’t want to be untruthful to Frances or Joseph, especially since she cared for them both.
But if she said something to Frances now, that might ruin the house party for her friend. That seemed unwise as well.
It was clear she needed to tell her friend the truth before the party ended. Perhaps after the ball. Surely, that was soon enough. One more day would make no difference.
Unless, of course, the truth was somehow revealed before then. The concern was enough to cause her to shiver.
“I think I should write another,” Frances murmured.
Harriet smothered a sigh. “What would you say?”
Frances glanced at where her mother was putting the final touches on an arrangement. “Perhaps something more suggestive.”
Harriet blinked, hesitating to guess what that might be. “I thought you worried the last one was too forward.”
She shook her head. “I changed my mind. I want him to be eager to know my identity.” A smile came over her face. “I think I know.”
“Frances?” her mother called before she could say more.
“Coming, Mother.” With the smile still in place, she stepped away, leaving Harriet to worry all the more.
~*~
JOSEPH BERATED HIMSELFfor not asking Harriet if she were behind the messages. He’d had the perfect opportunity, but the missives were the last thing on his mind when he had come upon her in the woods.
Kissing had taken precedence.