A knock sounded at the door, and Sophie admitted the maid.
“Mr. Langford asked that I help you, miss.” The young woman was nearly five years Sophie’s junior, with straw-colored hair and smiling eyes.
“Oh, thank you,” Sophie said. She’d been obliged to leave her maid behind in Bristol, as the young lady’s family was there.
She sat as the maid, Bess, pulled pins from her hair, then stood while the servant helped her from her dress.
Truly, she had two options. Go home and accept defeat, allowing her parents to marry her off as they’d always wished… or else try the odds at convincing Mr. Whitcomb to let her stay on. She supposed she could return to the Bristol Women’s Seminary, but they already had a replacement for her position, so the most she could expect was some lower appointment given out of a place of pity.
The maid left with a curtsy, and Sophie sat heavily on the bed, exhaustion washing over her, weighing on her eyelids.
So really, she was left with only the one option. She needed to find a way to stay in London for two weeks, until the position with the astronomy group began, without bankrupting herself in the process.
But first, sleep.
Sophie entered the breakfast room with hands clasped in front of her and her lip caught between her teeth. Sometimes, in the light of day, the night’s concerns seemed to evaporate. But other times, they seemed to be ever clearer. This was a situation of the latter. Did Andrew regret having invited her to stay? Did his staff disapprove? What would the day look like… and how would she reach her goals now? A veritable storm of questions barraged her from all sides, hopelessness creeping in.
Andrew was already at the table, surrounded by papers, with a plate of half-eaten biscuits and steaming tea. His hand was halfway through his hair, and when he froze to look up at her, he left the dark strands standing on end.
A laugh bubbled up at that, but she did her best to keep it at bay. She was evidently not successful, though, because he quirked a brow. “Something amusing?”
“Nothing at all.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
“I never was particularly adept at hiding my emotions.”
“I simply know you well enough to decipher your feelings.”
She settled in the chair beside him, propping her chin in her hand. “I remember how I loathed that. I could never keep a lie—or a surprise—from you. Your mother likely still blames me for ruining your thirteenth birthday celebration.”
“My mother was not one to hold grudges.”
“I expect she would make an exception in this case.”
He shook his head with the ghost of a smile, but his eyes appeared sad. “She adored you. You were the daughter she never had—plagued with three boys as she was.”
“Poor woman. Your brother was always well-behaved, though.” A footman brought her some tea, and she thanked him, not having noticed that she’d skipped the sideboard of food entirely.
“Will you provide our guest with a plate?” Andrew asked the man. “A bit of toast and coffee to begin, I think.”
She watched his profile as he spoke, eyes tracing his strong jaw and styled, dark hair—though a handful of strands lay haphazardly. Her fingers itched to fix them for him, but she refrained, toying with the edge of the tablecloth instead. He’d grown into a truly attractive man.
How strange to see her old friend as attractive. She’d only ever measured him by how well he could hit a shuttlecock or how much of his lessons he would teach her when on vacation from school. He swung his gaze back at her, catching her appraisal and lifting a brow.
“Which brother? Edmund was a terror,” he asked, picking up a paper, squinting at it, then adding it to a pile. Evidently, there was some system to his mess—though she was hard pressed to see it.
The servant brought her food, and she thanked him. “True, I meant Geoffrey. That man was born to inherit an estate, so proper and studious.”
Something in Andrew’s demeanor seemed to stiffen, but she could not pinpoint exactly what.
“How are your brothers?” Sophie asked.
“Geoffrey is Geoffrey. Edmund is in India, seeking adventure and riches.”
“Truly?”
“Indeed,” Andrew said with a nod and a sip of his tea. “He left… well, not long after you did, I suppose.”
