Page 52 of Solving Sophronia

Heat spread up Jonathan’s neck, a combination of embarrassment at overhearing the exchange and anger that her mother would treat her so. He studied Lady Sophronia’s face for a clue as to how her mother’s words affected her. Though she held a serene expression, he could see her lips were pulled tighter than usual.

“Mother, allow me to introduce you to Count Nikola Brankovic.”

“Oh, of course,” the countess said as they reached the lower floor. “I have heard of you, Count Brankovic. What a delight to meet you at last.”

Lady Sophronia gestured to her mother. “My lord, may I present Lady Mather.”

Jonathan gave a formal bow, just as Lady Sophronia had instructed. He took Lady Mather’s hand and gave it an exaggerated kiss as Mimi had assured him was the custom in Serbia. “A pleasure, Lady Madder.” He pronounced the words as he and Miss Thornton had practiced.

“And I am so pleased you will attend the ball tonight. You know, I havetwodaughters, and you will no doubt wish to meet Lady Priscilla as well.”

Jonathan gave a sharp nod. “I veel hope to make her acquaintance.”

Holloway informed them the carriage was waiting, and Lady Mather hurried away to locate her husband, muttering about him losing track of time, again.

Lady Sophronia put a thin wrap over her shoulders and attached a bag to her wrist, through which he could see the outline of her notebook.

Jonathan offered her his arm as they stepped outside, and the two took their places in the carriage to wait for her parents. He glanced through the open carriage door and, seeing they were alone, took the chance to speak in his regular voice. “I did not have the opportunity to tell you how beautiful you look, Lady Sophronia.”

As she sat directly beside him in the darkened interior of the carriage, it was difficult to make out her expression. Jonathan felt her smirk and eye roll more than saw it.

“You do not need to compensate for my mother, Detective. My feelings are not delicate and do not require reassurance.”

“I do not mean to sound pandering.”

She shrugged, shifting in her seat to face him more directly. “As you said before, beauty isn’t a talent. It is not the virtue I hope to be known for. A person’s existence must be very bleak indeed if all he or she has to offer is a pleasant face.”

“Yes. You are much more than that. And yet, I speak the truth when I say you are beautiful.”

She looked down, and he wondered if she believed him.

Jonathan opened his mouth to reiterate his point but was interrupted by the carriage driver informing them Lord and Lady Mather would join them at the ball.

Lady Sophronia nodded, looking unsurprised by the news. “Father must be absorbed in his ledgers.” She moved her skirts, scooted around to sit on the bench facing Jonathan, and gave the order to depart.

Jonathan was disappointed that they were no longer sitting close. He sat back in the seat as the carriage started away, shifting the sword so it didn’t pull on his sash. His hand strayed to his chest out of habit, but his pocket watch fob wasn’t there. Instead he fidgeted with the buttons on his sleeve as his thoughts moved over the plan. The young ladies were reliable, of that he had no doubt. Between all of them, they should manage to speak with most—if not all—of the suspects who had been guests at the lecture. Sergeant Lester and Constable Merryweather would be able to move and speak much more freely in their realms. After tonight Jonathan hoped to have the identity of the killer. But so much could go wrong—and nearly all of the risk of error lay with his ability to carry out his charade.

“You’re nervous.”

Jonathan smiled at the hint of teasing in her voice, the reminder that he’d said the same thing in their first carriage ride together.

“Anxious,” he said.

“We’ll find the killer.”

He touched his fingers to the mustache, pressing down to make certain it was firmly affixed. “I worry I’ll make a mistake—botch the entire operation with a misplaced word or gesture.”

“Set yourself at ease, Detective. People will see what they wish. Once they hear your title, nothing you do will matter.” A touch of bitterness had entered her voice.

“And that is why you do not use yours,” Jonathan said.

“Yes. I wish to be known for more than just to whom I was born,” Lady Sophronia said. “To be seen.” She looked down, folding her hands together. “You will understand after tonight.”

To be seen.Her words had been almost pleading, and Jonathan felt the pain behind them.

The carriage drew to a stop, and the door opened. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, eyes closed. “You and I both wear masks tonight,” she said, leaning forward to move past him and leaving a flowery scent. She took the carriage driver’s hand to descend.

Jonathan let out a breath as well. He stepped down from the carriage, offered his arm to Lady Sophronia, and joined the crowd ascending the assembly hall stairs. He couldn’t help feeling like a soldier stepping into battle.

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