Emma’s cheeks flushed pink with pleasure, and Vic’s heart swelled at how thoroughly Sophia was managing to win over her closest friend. She’d never let herself harbour any illusion that Sophia might become her girlfriend. The title simply wasn’t available to either of them, but surely if one were to entertain such fantasies, winning over one’s friends would be a very good attribute to have.

“I really am the biggest fan of Vigilant,” Emma continued to gush. “From Talia’s first draft of the book, I fell in love with everything about the story, the characters, the gritty details. I’ve always been impressed with people who capture the darkest elements of human nature without making them seem monstrous. Talia did that on the page, and you brought that element to life perfectly on the screen.”

“It’s easy to do when you have an amazing script and such dedicated professionals in charge of every aspect of the project.” Sophia tried to brush off the compliment, but Vic recognised the low undercurrent of pleasure in her voice. She’d heard it before, and the memories of when and why sent a tingle across her nerve endings. She took a drink in order to soothe the dry heat building in the back of her throat.

“But how do you do it?” Emma pressed. “How do you step into a character like that, with all their moral and ethical flaws, and make her so powerfully compelling?”

“I took lessons from Vic’s mother.”

Vic snorted and nearly coughed up some of the cider she’d just swallowed.

Emma looked from one of them to the other, eyes wide in surprise.

“Sophia met the duchess last night,” Vic offered by way of explanation. “It went as well as one might expect. Or rather, even worse than that.”

Emma grimaced. “I’ve had the pleasure only a time or two in official settings, but I’ve heard the stories. No beheadings, though?”

“Everyone left with their heads attached to their shoulders.” Vic tried to play off the wash of anger-tinged embarrassment. “Much to my mother’s chagrin, she no longer has the authority to order executions. So, at least there’s one vote for modernising the nobility.”

“Which reminds me,” Emma said more seriously, “I saw Parliament adjourned without even discussing the Downton Abbey bill. I can’t remember the real name— about the successions.”

“Succession of peerage,” Vic offered dryly. “You may be the only person I know who thought they might consider it this session.”

“They’re going to have to eventually,” Emma said with a certainty Vic didn’t share. Perhaps it was her American optimism, or the relative newness of her wealth, but Emma seemed to think anything could be resolved any day now if only one had faith and good will.