“I doubt that.”
She gave him a grateful smile, the firelight dancing on her face as she turned to face it. “It is simply more evidence that Mr. Whitcomb does not truly trust my capabilities.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, though the nearest member of the party was several paces away. “It took his wife, a fictitious marriage, and a lack of available replacements to gain me this position. And he still has not offered it to me in truth yet.”
He wanted to encourage her, but needed to tell her what he had learned as well. “And the project start may be delayed. Mr. Whitcomb has not secured the necessary funds he needs yet.”
She grimaced. “Then he has more time to remove me.”
“I am sorry. I am going to speak to the partners at Sternam’s, maybe we can invest.”
“That is more than gracious of you.” She looked at the rest of the party, that furrow appearing again between her brows. “Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice leaving the Seminary.”
“Excuse me,” Mrs. Whitcomb called, gaining the room’s attention. “We had thought to have a reading tonight, for a bit of entertainment. If you will all gather here.”
Andrew stood, offering his arm, but when they’d crossed the drawing room, Mrs. Whitcomb did not have a book prepared; she was in conversation with Mrs. Sybil. Andrew and Sophie stood on the outskirts of the party as the servants brought in more chairs.
“I tell you,” Mrs. Sybil said, her voice rising, “it is not appropriate.”
Mrs. Whitcomb lifted a placating hand. “I am sure it will all come out all right in the end, dear.”
Mrs. Sybil stepped back, grasping her husband’s arm from where he stood in conversation with Mr. Whitcomb. They were maybe a decade older than Sophie and Andrew, and both thin and stiff as candlesticks. “Do you not agree? Does no one see this for the lunacy it is? Look at her, she cannot be more than five and twenty, and yet you expect her to travel on her own?Liveon her own? It is not appropriate in the least!”
All eyes swung to Andrew and Sophie. Mrs. Whitcomb seemed to be maintaining her composure by a fingernail, gaze darting between them, right hand clenched on the back of a chair. “Mrs. Langford will do perfectly well, I am sure. If needed, I am happy to take her under my wing.”
Mr. Whitcomb did not appear to like that in the least. He opened his mouth, but Sophie spoke first.
“Mrs. Sybil, am I right to understand that you are worried about the propriety of my traveling on my own?”
“Andlivingon your own! It is not right for a woman of your age to set up an establishment by herself.”
Sophie unwrapped her hand from Andrew’s arm, meeting Mrs. Sybil’s eye with a steady gaze as she stepped to the center of the crowd, only the sofa separating her from the Sybils and Whitcombs. Andrew felt as though she wereentering a pugilist's fight, standing among all those rapt faces, her expression grim.
“I am certain it feels foreign to you, ma’am, but I will have a maid, and I am no stranger to making my own way.” Sophie turned her head a little, addressing the entire room. “During my time at the Bristol Women’s Seminary, I kept house for my grandfather, and I traveled to London alone without incident. And… my husband intends to join me when he is able.” Her eyes met his, and he nodded, following her to be at her side again.
“A teacher is a far cry from a position of this magnitude!” This time, it was not Mrs. Sybil, but one of the men on the project who offered the set down. “We are not corralling children, we are shaping the future!”
Andrew saw the darkening in Sophie’s eyes and the downward twitch of her mouth.
He began to speak, but this time, Mr. Whitcomb snagged his moment. “It is not worth the to-do. It is possible, likely even, that Mrs. Langford will not continue on the project with us.”
That brought silence. Many expressions were confused, but several appeared relieved—even happy at the pronouncement.
“I was offered a position, the same as anyone here.” Sophie’s voice was low, implacable, as she met Mr. Whitcomb’s eye.
“Not the same.”
Sophie swallowed, but did not look away. “It is true,” she said to the room. “Mr. Whitcomb was unaware of my gender when offering me the position, but he did know my qualifications when he offered me the position. I left my teaching appointment for an offer of employment here.”
“I am beginning to question those qualifications, Mrs. Langford.”
“Mr. Whitcomb—” Andrew began, not liking the vitriol in the man’s words. Hating the flush entering Sophie’s cheeks. It was entirely inappropriate for Whitcomb to hold this conversation here and now.
Mr. Whitcomb spoke over him, taking his gaze from Sophie to Andrew with a flick of his hand, as if Sophie was no longer worth his time. “Mr. Langford, asa businessman, you know the importance of having the correct employees. You would not hesitate to sever employment of one who did not make muster?”
“Well, no, but that is not the same.”
“It is entirely the same. I am a businessman, just of a different variety. I need the brightest minds on this project; I will accept no less. Mrs. Langford has time still to prove herself, but that time is running rather short.”
Andrew refrained from balling his hands. “And that is the crux of the problem, Whitcomb. She does not need to prove herself—she already did, when you first hired her.”
