“Soph?” he asked in a quiet voice. Her eyes swung to him, and he held out the letter.
Biting her lip, she took it, folding it open. Her expression registered surprise. “Mr. Whitcomb wishes to speak with me. At my leisure.”
“Regarding the astronomy endeavor?”
She nodded. “I cannot think what else.”
“Do you wish to go now?”
She hesitated. “Yes. Do we have the time?”
“The schedule is entirely yours. If you wish to meet with the man, we can certainly do so.”
Her eyes suddenly widened. “Your work. You are going to be late.”
“I intend to go with you to Weybridge, or did you not know?”
She blinked. “I should like to argue—or I ought to—but I have no desire to, so I shan’t.”
That tore a surprised laugh from him. “It appears the carriage is ready. We can take it toyour meeting, then be on our way.”
He assisted her inside, seeing her settled before giving directions to the driver and joining her. She was pressed up against the wall opposite the maid, her eyes on the window, and deep purple shadows beneath them.
“Did you sleep poorly?” he asked as he sat.
She startled, as if she’d forgotten he was near, then lifted a shoulder as she tucked her legs up beside her on the seat. “I think I fell asleep just as the sky grew light. And not for long.”
“I am sorry. It is a great shock, I am sure.”
“Yes. I cannot fathom how I was possibly married without even being aware.” There was the barest hint of humor in her voice. Evidence that the usual Sophie was still there.
“You do not think youaremarried?”
She laughed outright. “Andrew, you jest. I signed no registry. I said no vows.”
“You are right. I do not know what I was thinking.”
“Likely the same as I—that this is ridiculous. And therefore, it feels as though nothing unfathomable is off the table now.”
Andrew nodded. “What do you intend to do?”
“Require the truth from my parents.”
“And if they did in fact lie?”
She bit the inside of her cheek, pulling out a dimple in the skin there. “I do not know.”
The carriage stopped, and Andrew helped her out. “Would you like me to accompany you in, or wait in the carriage?”
She patted his arm, the look in her eyes distracted. “I think I must do this alone. Besides, when they reiterate that they do not need me, I would rather you not be witness.”
He grabbed her hand before he could stop himself, keeping her from walking away. “They most certainly need you, but if they are obsolete enough not to realize it, that is their mistake.”
Her smile was tremulous, and he saw just how much weighed on her then in that expression. He gripped her hand, then let her go.
Chapter Ten
That horrible secretary opened the door again, peering down on her in disdain before allowing her in. She kept her chin high. There had to be some reason for the invitation, and Sophie had to believe there was some likelihood of success because of it—Mr. Whitcomb did not seem the sort to make pointless social appointments. No, there had been a development. A change to her situation.
