Page 50 of Solving Sophronia

She nodded. “The rail line from Subotica has recently been completed, giving a perfectly reasonable reason for a Serbian dignitary to visit, and the country’s borders are in such turmoil between the Austro-Hungarian dual monarchy, the Ottomans, the Belgrade revolution, the Hapsburg Empire, the Kingdom of Croatia-Slavonia...” She counted off the various problems facing Eastern Europe on her fingers. “Very few people outside the region have a full understanding of the politics. Nobility loses or gains land and titles, and the rulers, especially the local ones, change often enough that nobody—especially someone from as far away as England—can keep track. No questions would be asked you could not answer, and they would not know if you made a mistake, especially if you pretended limited understanding of the English language.” She finished the explanation in a rush as she ran out of breath.

“Brilliant,” Vivian said, holding up her index finger. “Royalty with a vague pedigree will be believed without question, and one would not wish to admit one’s ignorance of the Serbian political climate.”

Sophie smiled, clasping her hands together, feeling excited that her argument seemed to be convincing. “Mimi and I have devised an identity for you.” Detective Graham’s expression was thoughtful—an improvement from skepticism. “My grandmother has an old... ah, friend.” A blush started on her neck. “Mimi, perhaps you should explain.”

“Yes, dear.” Mimi sat up straighter, looking around the group. “You see, after my husband died, I traveled quite extensively. During my stay in Venice, I made a very good friend, Count Jovan Brankovic. He had recently lost his wife as well, and we took to one another immediately.” The older woman’s eyes went soft, and she gave a gentle smile. “Jovan’s eyes were the most striking green, and oh my, did he ever love to walk along a moonlit beach. He was so very attentive to me and quite passionate—”

“Mimi,” Sophie interrupted. She could feel her blush spreading and did not dare to glance at the men. Their discomfort at the direction the conversation had taken was palpable. She glanced at her friends.

Hazel and Dahlia had both gone red as well. Elizabeth did a poor job of hiding her giggle behind a handkerchief. Vivian remained, of course, unflustered, watching Mimi thoughtfully.

“Perhaps you will tell how Count Brankovic was received in London,” Sophie, prompted.

Mimi broke off a bit of a biscuit and fed it to Dorrit. “Oh yes, well, of course Society fawned over him, wished to know all about him, to be around him and be noticed by him. He spoke very little English, and his dancing was atrocious, but a more charming man you could not hope to meet.”

“The point is,” Sophie said. “The count was easily accepted by Society.”

“He was,” Mimi said. “And I was the envy of quite a few ladies, I’ll tell you. He, with that seductive accent—”

“And it would not be strange for his son or grandson to call on you when he visited London,” Sophie said quickly, steering the conversation back on track.

“It would be perfectly natural,” Mimi said.

Sophie turned to Detective Graham. “You see, sir? It is a bit unconventional, but the plan is sound. At Lord Ruben’s engagement ball, you shall be introduced as Count Nikola Brankovic. Mimi has already informed the hosts that we bring a guest.”

Detective Graham looked at Sergeant Lester. “What do you think, Sergeant?”

The sergeant frowned and shrugged. “I see no fault with the plan. Lady Sophronia has considered all angles, it seems.” He grinned, lifting his teacup in a salute. “And I should very much like to see you costumed in finery and mingling with the swells.”

Constable Merryweather snorted but was silenced by a sharp glance from Detective Graham. The constable took a deep drink of his tea and turned to study the pattern in the carpet.

The detective glared at the sergeant as well, until Sergeant Lester shook off his grin and adopted a serious look. Detective Graham turned back toward Sophie. He tipped his head to the side, raising and lowering his brows once.

Sophie took the gesture as agreement—or at least resignation—and a thrill of excitement skittered down to her fingers. She moved back to sit on the sofa, bringing the bowl of peppermints with her.

Detective Graham put a sweet into his mouth and glanced at the others in the room. “And, if I may be blunt, what do these other young ladies have to do with the business?”

“Support,” Elizabeth said, turning toward him. “Isn’t that right, Sophie?” Sophie nodded, and she continued. “Between all of us, one can manage to be near you throughout the evening. We shall interrupt if a conversation seems to be near to revealing you or if someone acts suspicious.”

“You shall need more than one dance partner,” Vivian said.

“And we can help with the investigation as well,” Dahlia said.

Sophie smiled at Dahlia, knowing how difficult this particular ball would be for her, grateful her friend had put aside her own discomfort to help.

Detective Graham raised a brow at Sophie.

“I told them about the case,” she admitted, wincing as she realized she’d not yet broken that news to him. “Yesterday, when I didn’t believe you would be at the ball, I asked for their assistance.”

He pressed his lips together, and his brows drew close together.

Clearly the man wasn’t pleased. “These women can be trusted,” Sophie said. “I swear to it. And we need as many ears as possible to garner information about each of our suspects. There are simply too many for you and me to speak to all of them in merely a few hours.”

Detective Graham’s expression did not soften. “My lady, if you remember, you made a promise to me that you would not go off investigating on your own.”

A prickle of resentment ran up Sophie’s spine. “I did not intend to be alone, sir. And surely you must see that more help is to the benefit of the investigation.”

From the corner of her eye Sophie saw Elizabeth fold her arms. She certainly had opinions about the detective’s words. Thankfully she did not voice them.

---