Page 59 of Solving Sophronia

Lord Everleigh sniffed, flicking a crumb from the tablecloth. “I did. Though, I hardly see how my attendance is relevant to your article.”

“It is the society column,” Sophie said. Her voice sounded tight, as if she were covering irritation at the man’s rudeness. “Readers are interested in who does what.” She turned back to Lord Chatsworth. “Who stayed behind with you after the lecture?”

Lord Everleigh glanced up, and seeing Jonathan, he stood. “Count Brankovic, do join us.”

Jonathan gave a sharp nod. As he walked to an empty seat, he paused behind Sophie’s chair. “Pardon, but my lady is feel better?”

“Much better. Thank you, my lord,” Sophie said. She glanced up at him, but her gaze did not meet his.

“Count Brankovic, you are acquainted with these gentlemen, I believe?” Lady Mather asked.

“Da. I meet them in cardroom.”

“Lord Chatsworth is my grandson.” Lady Chatsworth gave a proud smile.

Jonathan nodded again. He sat on the other side of Lord Everleigh, leaving only one empty seat at the table, between himself and Mrs. Griffin. He motioned between Lord Chatsworth and Sophie with a wave. “I have interrupted. Please, continue to speaking.”

“I hear you are a great hunter, my lord,” Lord Chatsworth said to Jonathan. “And do tell us what game there is to be had in Serbia.”

“I love hant, yes,” Jonathan said. “Bear, wolf, deer...” He thanked the server who set his glass on the table.

“If you are still in Britain this August, my father hosts the hunting club on his estate in Scotland. You would be very welcome to join, sir, though you would find our grouse and fox to be tame prey compared to a bear.”

“Dank you.” Jonathan raised the glass. “I would like very much.”

Lord Everleigh waved to a man in the doorway, motioning for him to join them. The newcomer’s face was wide with a square jaw and stoic expression. His hair and mustache were fair, almost white, and he walked with surprisingly straight posture toward the table to join them.

Lord Everleigh greeted him, introducing him as Hans Hofman, a business associate from Germany.

Hans spoke with a thick German accent. He bowed stiffly when introduced to the ladies. And gave a familiar nod to Lord Chatsworth.

“Please, meet Count Nikola Brakovic, from Serbia,” Lord Everleigh said.

Mr. Hofman bowed.“Vy daleko ot doma.”

Jonathan blinked, and his heart stuttered. The man spoke Serbian or Russian... or was it another language? One the count could reasonably not understand?

Blast. How do I respond?From the corner of his eye, Jonathan saw Sophie and her grandmother jolt. Hoping to disguise his shock at the unexpected circumstance as well as give himself time to think, he stood, then lifted his glass in a toast, giving a wide grin and breaking into loud laughter. He clapped Hans Hofman on the shoulder. “Ah, is good hear familiar tongue. But if you don’t mind, I prefer practice Engleesh.”

The German tipped his head to the side and opened his mouth as if he’d say something else, but he was interrupted by the arrival of Miss Miller.

Seeing her, the other gentlemen stood.

“Count Brankovic, there you are,” Miss Miller said. “The two-step is about to begin, and you did promise to partner me.” She wagged her finger, giving a teasing reprimand.

“Oh,” Jonathan said. “I beg pardon, miss.” He set down his drink, excusing himself to the rest of the table, then offered his arm, leading the young lady from the room.

When they reached the entry, he let out a breath, glancing around to make certain they were alone. “That was quick thinking, Miss Miller. Another moment and I believe I’d have been exposed.”

She shrugged, looking pleased with herself. “A gentleman needs to be rescued by a lady every now and then.”

Jonathan laughed, feeling giddy with the relief that coursed through him. He glanced back over his shoulder, making certain they’d not been followed. When he turned back, a new worry occurred to him. He winced. “I beg your pardon, miss. I hope you don’t expect me to actually dance the two-step—not that I oppose your partnership—but I don’t...”

“Of course not, sir.” She curled her lip, scoffing as if the idea were preposterous.

Jonathan didn’t know whether her words were meant as an insult, but his gratitude to the young lady overrode any offense. “Then, perhaps a walk in the gardens?”

“If you’d like.” She nodded but didn’t take his arm again. Instead she clasped her hands behind her back, preceding him as they walked along the edge of the ballroom and out through the doors onto the assembly hall’s patio.

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