Page 55 of Solving Sophronia

“I can see you are very popular with the ladies, my lord.” Lord Meredith clapped Jonathan on the shoulder. “Allow me to rescue you. Come along to the cardroom. I’m sure you’ll appreciate conversation with members of your own sex.”

Jonathan clapped Lord Meredith back. “Dat I vould, my lord. Lead de vay.”

Chapter 16

Sophie glanced toward the doorwayas Sergeant Lester—in his server’s livery—passed by the small room again. She felt a swell of affection toward the man, thinking she’d never known anyone so steadfast in the performance of his duty. The sergeant kept an extremely, almost comically, close eye on her. She looked back at Mr. Baldwin, but the man hadn’t noticed her attention stray. He was settled comfortably on the small sofa and kept up a running discourse, telling in detail of his various adventures in Africa and the different species of animals he’d hunted. He stroked his thick beard as he talked, moving from story to story, and didn’t seem to be nearing a conclusion.

Sophie nodded here and there, but she was having a difficult time concentrating on the man’s words. Her foot tapped, and she tried not to fidget as she cast around her thoughts for a way out. Not only was she trapped listening to hunting tales while her friends and Detective Graham investigated the murders, but in order to speak uninterrupted, Mr. Baldwin had found an empty room—leaving open the door for propriety’s sake—which just happened to be the small parlor where Jane Duffin and George Lewis had been murdered. Sophie could not keep her gaze from wandering to the closet door or the window as her mind conjured the scene that must have occurred merely a few days earlier. She shivered and purposely avoided looking at the horse statue.

She’d tried to ask Mr. Baldwin a few times about the lecture, specifically the attendees, but the man was understandably more interested in describing the actual experiences, rather than simply his presentation.

How can I leave without causing offense?Sophie had tried to keep track of time by counting the songs the orchestra played. How many dances had passed since she’d left the ballroom? Six? It must have been nearly an hour since she’d left the detective’s side. How was he getting on? His impersonation of Serbian nobility had been well received, as far as she’d seen, but what had happened since they’d been separated? Had he made any headway on the case? Had his charade been discovered? At least she’d managed to tell Hazel about the lion drawing before Mr. Baldwin had taken her away. It could prove an interesting way for the ladies to begin a conversation about the lecture as well as determine who was present for the beginning of the lecture.

Mr. Baldwin took a breath, and Sophie took the opportunity to interject. “This is all wonderful information, sir. Thank you so much for—”

“I have neglected to tell you of the bull elephant that charged us in Zulu country,” Mr. Baldwin said. He pointed, as if the animal were even now running toward them. “Enormous animal he was. One swipe of his trunk snapped White’s gun clean in half.” He lifted his arms, holding an imaginary weapon, and tilted his head to the side, sighting down the barrel. “I got off a good shot, hitting the beast in the shoulder—”

“I beg pardon, my lady.” Detective Graham’s voice interrupted in stilted English.

The unfamiliar sight of him in his thick mustache and uniform jacket startled her for just an instant.

He bowed from the doorway, and she saw the familiar tease in his eyes. “But I vould ask you for to dance. Dey are soon to play valtz.”

“Oh, I would love to, Count Brankovic.” Sophie rose and extended a hand to her bearded and long-winded companion. “Thank you so very much for granting me an interview, Mr. Baldwin. If you will please excuse me now...”

The hunter stood as well and accepted her hand. “Of course, my lady. If you’d like, I will call on you sometime this week, and we can finish—”

“De valtz begins.” Detective Graham took her other hand, giving it a tug and pulling her away from Mr. Baldwin mid-sentence.

Sophie hid her laugh as she allowed herself to be pulled from the room. His action was brilliant. Mr. Baldwin could never accuse a count of rudeness.

“Have you been talking to him this entire time?” The detective kept his voice low so as not to be overheard by anyone they might pass as they walked.

She nodded, giving an exaggerated sigh. “I fear if you hadn’t rescued me, I’d be listening to his stories until morning.”

He moved her hand underneath his elbow, resting it on his arm, and led her back through the entry toward the ballroom at a more sedate pace. “You had the sergeant quite worried,” he said. “He didn’t consider it all the thing for Miss Propriety to remain in a private room, alone, with a man for such a long time.” He winked. “I’m afraid he is extremely concerned for your reputation.”

Sophie smiled. “He is very thoughtful. So tell me, what have you learned? And has the sergeant discovered anything? What about the others?” She stopped abruptly outside the large doors, away from the crowd.

He turned, one foot still raised, momentarily off-balance, as if he’d not intended to stop. But he stopped fully then, facing her, and glanced over his shoulder to the ballroom, then back with a quizzical bend in his brow. “You want to discuss this now? The waltz...”

“Oh.” Sophie blinked. “You really wish to dance with me? I thought it was merely an excuse to draw me away from Mr. Baldwin.”

He shrugged. “Why can it not be both?”

“Detective, it isn’t necessary. I don’t expect... You don’t have to...”

“I wish to waltz with you.” He leaned close, holding her gaze, and spoke the words slowly. Each syllable sent a shiver over her skin.

Sophie felt heat explode in her face.

Detective Graham’s mustache twitched, and though she couldn’t see it beneath the glued-on whiskers, she knew he was smirking.

Though Sophie had been led onto a dance floor hundreds of times, she’d never felt the fluttering in her chest that she felt now. All around, the eyes of thetonwatched her walk with the mysterious count to take their places on the dance floor. He faced her, taking her hand and slipping his other around her waist. She gathered her skirts, feeling as though the usual dance position was much more intimate in this situation and much less routine. Was it because the two were embroiled in a pretense? Sharing a secret certainly contributed to the confusing emotions. But that couldn’t account for the entirety.

The waltz began, and Detective Graham drew her to the side, sweeping her along with the beat of the music. He moved confidently, his shoulders square and head held high. Nobody would believe he’d learned to dance only yesterday.

Sophie’s breath felt strained, and the heat from her blush had increased. She followed along, her feet remembering the motions that her mind could not. Her head felt rather light. When had she last eaten? The lightheaded feeling threatened to make her dizzy. She looked up to tell her partner that she needed to stop. But when her gaze met Detective Graham’s, the troubling feelings stilled. His eyes held a smile. His face was familiar, warm—the face of her friend.

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