And dare she hope that before she met her parents face to face to demand a reason for their lies, that she would at last have accomplished something they wouldhaveto be proud of?
Mr. Whitcomb did not keep her waiting long. Within five minutes, she was ushered back to the man’s sparse office and seated at his desk.
“Mrs. Renard, I hope you are well.”
“Indeed. And yourself?”
The man’s cheek twitched. “I am well enough. I have brought you here today due to a… unique situation.”
“Yes?” Her hands gripped the wooden arms of her chair, but she kept her back straight and no hint of her nerves on display.
“We have decided to agree to your offer of a temporary position.”
Sophie smiled internally, success dousing her. “I am happy to hear that. I will have the next week to prove my skills to you, then?”
“The position would be yours indefinitely. You would fill the role of computer that we require… until another can be found to take your place.”
Sophie swallowed, her throat horribly dry. She did not wish to fight, but she could not find herself without a job in Durham, hundreds of miles from home, in only a month or two. Much as she desired this position, to be jobless in London with Andrew’s help had been hard enough. Logically, she knew she could not agree to this arrangement as it stood. “I am sorry, sir, but I would be uprooting my entire life to join this project. And to know that at any point in the next eighteen months I might be replaced would be impractical.”
Mr. Whitcomb registered no surprise at her dislike of the idea. He must have expected it—how could he not? “Very well, then, just until the start of the project. If you cannot keep up with the requirements, then we will have to replace you.”
Sophie could hardly keep her smile down. She was certain she could keep up; that would be no hardship. She had no illusions that they would be seeking a replacement for her regardless, but if they’d been unable to find one in nearly a week, she had reason to hope she would last another.
“I agree to your proposal, Mr. Whitcomb.”
“Good.” The man nodded.
“Can I expect the same salary?”
He hesitated. Then, with an unhappy twist of his mouth, he nodded.
“Splendid. When do you need me next?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. We require preliminary equations to be completed before the project begins."
With her trip to Weybridge, that would be cutting it fine, but it was manageable. Certainly, no one else was having to prove themselves; these equations might not truly even be required. But the thought of a challenge had her excited, almost eclipsing her frustration regarding her parents entirely.
She could not help herself; coming to a stand, she added, “Might I ask what prompted this change?”
The man’s face was a mask, his limbs stiff and unfriendly. But he answered her nevertheless. “We were unaware that you are a married woman, Mrs. Renard.We had assumed the opposite, and it would have been entirely inappropriate to have you involved with us.”
Sophie’s mouth parted, but she snapped it closed, nodding with what she hoped was a smile. “Good day, Mr. Whitcomb.”
She left the office, her heart attempting to vacate its cage. She had only just heard this ridiculous lie about herself. For five years, she’d been entirely unaware. And yet within a handful of days here, it seemed to have spread through London already. Now things were far more complicated.
Andrew waited in the carriage outside the steps, and one look at her face had his brows pulling together. “What happened?”
“They’ve offered me a position… temporarily.”
Indignation lit his eyes. “Temporarily?”
“They will give me an opportunity to prove myself until the project relocates. A little more than a week.” The carriage began to move.
“But you’ve already proven yourself. They already offered you the job.”
It was rather nice to see him incensed on her behalf. She had been so happy to have the opportunity at all, she’d not had time to be upset. And then she’d been overrun with the anxiety of the lies piling up.
“What else is wrong?” he asked, reading her worry in her expression.
