Free The Novelty Maker by Sasha L. Miller Page B

for Bingley, and he'd come across Harlowe. Cole had never stopped coming back, even after the music box he'd commissioned for his mother was done and gifted to her.
                    So how, considering Harlowe was so reclusive, had someone gotten close enough to fall in love enough to send him a secret admirer letter? Or was it a joke? That made sense—some of the Lords and Ladies Cole was acquainted with were rather heartless when it came to their own amusement. They wouldn't think twice of playing with Harlowe, never mind how much it would hurt Harlowe.
                    "If you want, I can help you find out who it is," Cole offered as Harlowe shut the ledger.
                    Harlowe stared at him, his one brown eye offset by the emerald panel obscuring his left eye. "Why?"
                    "It's upsetting you, obviously," Cole said, shrugging and trying to stay nonchalant. "You're my friend, and I have to find something to fill my time, and I certainly don't want to concede to my mother's efforts to set up a tea with Lady Codd."
                    "How will you find out?" Harlowe asked, some of the tension leeching from his shoulders. "Couriers never say who sent them, unless they're allowed."
                    "I'll figure it out," Cole said confidently. Couriers would almost always take a bribe, but Harlowe wouldn't know or be able to afford that. He'd also strenuously object over Cole spending his money in such a manner.
                    "Fine," Harlowe conceded after a moment. "But don't go to too much trouble. It's only the one letter, and it's probably a stupid prank."
                    "It could be Bingley, using secret means to profess his undying love," Cole suggested, hooking an arm through Harlowe's and leading him from the office. Harlowe allowed it, which meant he wasn't angry at Cole any longer.
                    "I don't think love is the word you're looking for there," Harlowe said flatly, slipping free of Cole's grasp when they reached the work tables. "Did you come to check on your commission this afternoon, or were you just stopping by?"
                    "Hiding," Cole said. "Tea with Lady Codd, remember?"
                    "I can take the afternoon off, now I'm done with that." Harlowe gestured towards the area of the workshop where he'd been working earlier. "Did you want to hide somewhere else?"
                    "I'd like that," Cole said, pleased Harlowe had suggested it. Usually Cole had to badger him into leaving the shop. "Have anywhere in mind?"
                    "We could keep exploring the cliff path?" Harlowe suggested hopefully. He pulled down his sleeves, buttoning the cuffs around his wrists. "Or there's a festival downtown for the next few days. The actors are only staying a few days, before heading towards the capital."
                    "Cliffs," Cole said, though the festival was tempting. He'd heard lovely things about it, but the thought of keeping Harlowe to himself was much more appealing, especially after that letter. Harlowe smiled, the curl of his lips half-visible but so much more compelling than any full smile Cole had ever been treated to.
                    "Let me grab my jacket," Harlowe said, slipping through the mess of the workroom to the wardrobe on the far side.
                    Harlowe returned quickly, shrugging on his jacket over his vest. He led the way out through the back door of the shop, pausing only to lock it behind him. They followed the path down towards the cliffs, the afternoon sun hanging low in the sky. The salty breeze whipped at the folds of Cole's jacket, trying to unbutton it and send it flying open. The ocean was a calm, brilliant blue-green, the sun reflecting brightly off its surface and making Cole look away after a