“Mrs. Langford is very capable,” he replied. “And she will not be alone; she will have the entire team with her.”
Mrs. Sybil appeared skeptical. “It is unheard of, I must say.”
“Well, my wife is rather unique, yes.”
“Very unique, indeed,” Mr. Thorne said, and his tone was apathetic at best.
Andrew did his best to talk of anything but Sophie the rest of the meal. He had no intention of embarrassing her, and it seemed whatever he said could be construed the wrong way entirely. So instead, he stuck to base topics: the weather, Andrew’s work with the bank, the London Season that was beginning to come out in full force. Sophie seemed to do well in her own conversations, nary a frown on her face throughout the evening.
When the men and women separated following the meal, he met her eyes through the crowd of parting women. She gave him a small smile, then was absconded by Mrs. Whitcomb, who looped her arm through Sophie’s and leaned close to share someon dit.
The men returned to their seats, and port was brought out. Talk naturally turned to the project, as every man there was involved, aside from Andrew.
“How goes the situation with Pritchard and Co? You said an investment fell through?” Thorne asked Whitcomb. Andrew recognized the name—it was another of London’s smaller banks.
Whitcomb scowled. “We are turning our efforts to private investment.”
“I take it that means it has not gone so well,” the man Andrew recalled as being Mr. Harper said with a chuckle.
“These businessmen do not understand the value of science and how incredible it is to further our species’ knowledge. I am certain we will secure the necessary funding,” Whitcomb said, a bitter note in his voice.
“I hope you are right, we are meant to relocate next week,” Harper said, brandishing his glass with another chuckle.
“Langford works at a bank,” Thorne remarked offhand.
Whitcomb’s eyes settled on Andrew, a new, appraising look in their depth. “What bank?”
“Sternam’s.”
One of the man’s brows lifted, and he leaned forward. “Would the partners be interested in funding a revolutionary astronomy project? We have secured the bulk of our financing, but one of our investors pulled out, and we are in need of a sum to continue on as planned.”
All eyes were on Andrew. His hand constricted on his glass. “I cannot say for certain. I hope I do not overstate my importance when I say I have some sway with the group, but I am not positive that we could approve an investment of that magnitude in only a few days.”
Whitcomb nodded. “We will extend the deadline, if we must.”
That would mean more time with Sophie, which was good. But it also gave the man more time to replace her. “I believe I have some time in the early afternoon on Monday, if you would like to come by for an appointment.”
“I will plan on it. Thank you, Langford.” For the first time, the man did not have a hard look in his eye as he surveyed Andrew. Andrew returned his nod.
“Let us return to the women, then,” Whitcomb said, setting his empty glass on the table.
When they entered the drawing room, Andrew spotted Sophie easily, in a pair of armchairs by the fire with their hostess. Mrs. Whitcomb stood at their entrance, crossing to her husband, so Andrew took her spot, settling into the plush chair.
“How are you?” he asked.
Her eyes crossed to Mrs. Whitcomb. “I am not certain.”
“Did something happen?”
“Nothing particularly of note, only… Mrs. Whitcomb informed me that she is something of an amateur mathematician. I believe she is a large part of why Mr. Whitcomb is giving me an opportunity—I think she might have pushed him to it. And I am certain it was she who told her husband of my marriage.” Her fingers traced the pattern on the armchair.
“After learning of it from Mrs. Haverwick?”
At this, Sophie laughed. “That woman knows everyone.”
“It is true,” Andrew said. “Is that bad, though? You seem unsettled.”
“No, only… well, it is silly.”
