He handed her one of the sandwiches and bit into another just as a knock sounded at the door.
His brow wrinkled. “I asked that we not be disturbed during lunch, so this might be urgent. Excuse me.” He settled his food on a napkin and crossed to the door.
Sophie knew from experience that the armchair hid her from view of the office’s entrance, so she simply remained sequestered as she was, taking a small bite of her sandwich. It really was quite delicious, for such simple fare.
“Langford, the Eldridge account is out of balance, and Lord Eldridge is coming today.” The man’s voice was harried.
“I am aware. It is on my schedule to see to. Eldridge will not be here until four o’clock.”
“If you have a moment, I’d prefer to see this handled now.”
“In fact, I am busy at the moment.”
A pause. “You are eating lunch.”
“Yes. With my wife.” He said it with even composure, but shock froze Sophie in place at hearing her newest title.
The man guffawed. “You haven’t a wife.”
“I tend to keep my private affairs to myself, but when you choose to interrupt us—”
“Interrupt what? You are in here alone, man.”
Swallowing the bite she’d nearly choked on, Sophie set her food down, surreptitiously slipped on her shoes, and stood with an apologetic smile painting her face.
The man jolted. He was of a height with Andrew, but with at least a decade’s years on him, a rounded middle, and black hair peppered with gray. “By Jove, man. You have a wife.”
Sophie pinched her lips together but offered a shallow curtsy. “I certainly hope he does. Or else, I have a great deal of questions for him.”
The man was staring at her, eyes round. “My apologies, ma’am.”
“None needed. I know how busy Andrew is. I simply wished to steal him away for half an hour.”
“An hour, actually,” Andrew cut in. “The entire hour.” He turned back to his colleague. “You are welcome to return at noon to go over the account.”
Heat pooled in Sophie’s stomach, and a pleased smile crept onto her face, though she hadn’t a clue why it was there. Would she never regain control over her unwieldy body? When exactly had it decided to go rogue?
At some point, the man had shifted his attention back to Andrew, and he nodded. “I’ll return at noon then. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Langford.” He dipped his head.
“And you as well, Mr…”
“Sturgeon,” Andrew supplied, coming to stand beside her. Feather-light, his fingers brushed her back as they splayed between her hips and ribs.
Gooseflesh erupted there, but she held onto her composure with a vice-like grip. “Mr. Sturgeon,” she demurred, with a nod of her own. “I appreciate you allowing me to borrow my… husband.”
She thought Andrew’s hand tensed against her back, but a moment later, it was as soft as before. Mr. Sturgeon let himself out, then several breaths later, Andrew’s hand departed as well. It left a strange awareness there, even when it was gone.
“Well, that should do it.”
She looked her surprise at him.
He retreated to his desk and leaned against it, eyes steady on her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Sturgeon is worse than Mrs. Haverwick. He will inform the rest of the staff that I am married, and soon it will be a well-known fact, without anyone knowing exactly when the marriage occurred.”
“Mrs. Haverwick!” Sophie declared, a snag in their plan jumping out at her.
