Summer of the Moon Flower (The de Vargas Family) (13 page)

“I am not interested in anything but
getting out of this godforsaken hole.” She turned to him, her eyes bright with
unshed tears. “Where am I? I presume by the insufferable cold and the keening
of the wind I am in Scotland?”

He nodded wearily. “Aye, we are on
Rothmore.”

She kept her gaze fixed on his face. “Why?
Why am I here?”

Dougal crossed the floor and stood by the
bed reaching his hands out. “Come. We will eat and I have a long story to tell
you.”Sofia pushed herself to the edge of the bed. A flash of a long slender
calf caught his eye as her foot reached the floor. He turned and picked up her
cloak and handed it to her, before striding across to the door.

“Unbolt the door, please Mary.”

He swung open the door when the bolt was
lifted from the other side and waited for Sofia to follow. She stood slowly and
a soft cry escaped her lips as she crumpled to the cold, hard floor.

The housekeeper pushed past him. “The wee
lass has eaten nought since you brought her here,” she admonished him. She
crouched next to Sofia and picked up her lifeless hand, and rubbed it. “
Och,
mon
. She is as cold as ice. It’s a wonder you haven’t killed her.”

Dougal scooped his hands beneath Sofia and
picked her up from the floor. He stood cradling her as her head nestled into
his chest and her eyes fluttered open. She weighed nothing and he held her
close to him as he strode to the door and pushed it open with his shoulder.
“We’ll go to the kitchens. That is where the best fire is. She needs warming.”

Mary hurried ahead of him and he walked to
the end of the long corridor and stepped quickly down the dozen stone steps
carved in the rock on the eastern wall. It was the quickest way to the kitchen.
Sofia’s head bumped gently against his chest and he tightened his grip as she
reached her hand up to his neck.

Her cold fingers spread against his skin
and he looked warily down at her, waiting for her to scratch or pinch him, but
her hand curled gently around the hair hanging past his shirt collar. Her
wide-eyed gaze held his and the confusion on her face broke his heart.

“Not long, now,” he murmured. “I will have
you warm and fed soon.”

He could not believe she had not eaten
since he had left her two days before and cursed himself. He should have taken
more care to ensure her physical well-being. No point saving her from the
machinations of the Council, if she starved to death in his care.

They crossed the long hall and the two
servants carrying in firewood looked at him curiously.

“Build up the fires in the kitchen,
please,” he instructed. They scurried to do his bidding and he strode to the
end of the room and reached the arched entrance leading to the kitchens. The
aroma of fresh baked bread preceded the warmth emanating from the first room
where the loaves of fresh baked bread were laid out along the wooden benches
along the side of the wall.

“Where is your perambulator?” Sofia
muttered and he laughed drily.

The next room, although serving as of one
of the kitchens, had a long bench in front of the fire. A large milk can filled
with water stood in the huge fireplace and gave out almost as much warmth as
the fire itself. Mary hurried in with an armful of homespun woolen shawls and
spread them on the bench but Dougal ignored them. He sat at the end of the
bench closest to the fire and cradled Sofia into the warmth of his body. Mary
looked at him without speaking and picked up a shawl wrapping it gently around
Sofia who now lay quiescent in his arms. It appeared her rage had burned out
and her energy was depleted. He looked down as she shivered and watched her
warily as her gaze took in the room around her.

“What is this place?” she asked quietly.

“It is my home,” he replied.

“Why am I here?’ Her voice quavered and he
could sense the fear behind her words.

“Don’t worry. You are safe here,” he
reassured her.

“You tried to kill me.”

He reached down and picked up one of her
hands between his and rubbed it gently. Her eyes fluttered closed and she
sighed.

“No, I saved your life. You were in grave
danger…and you still are,” he replied

She didn’t answer and as her breathing
evened out, Dougal wondered if she had even heard his reply. Mary came back in
from the main kitchen with a jug of warmed wine and a plate of bread cakes and
placed it on a low table between them and the fireplace. For a few moments, the
only sound was the crackling of the flames in the fireplace, until a log popped
and dropped into the fire. Sofia opened her eyes and pushed her hands against
his chest

Dougal slid across the bench and made room
for her between his body and the end of the bench against the wall. She looked
up at him and tucked her bare feet beneath her. He lifted the shawl and draped
it across her shoulders.

“What do you mean grave danger?” Her words
were softly spoken, but measured and calm.

He reached for the jug and poured the wine
into the pottery cups Mary had placed on the tray. He held Sofia’s gaze with
his as he passed her the hot drink. She wrapped her fingers around the warm cup
and smiled.

“Not a poisoned chalice, Dougal?” A nervous
pulse flickered in the side of her neck and he realized she was attempting to
stay calm.

He leaned forward and put his head in his
hands. “Edward of Kilmarnock and I, were entrusted with the task of killing
you.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, but she sat up straight beside him. I
am a righteous man and I am on a journey to fulfill my father’s wish to end the
corruption that is rife in our country.” He determined to tell her the whole
story and she would understand why she had to stay in the castle on his island.

“Your research in the laboratory in Vienna
has come to the attention of this evil group and you have threatened what they
believe is their God-given right to immortality.”

Her eyes were shadowed but fixed on his
mouth as he spoke. He had her attention. But she didn’t speak.

“I was sent to Vienna to observe you.” He
reached into his pocket and removed the monogrammed glove he had carried for
weeks since she had dropped it at Westbahnhof. “You eluded me at the train
station, but I could confirm to my masters it was you.”

Her gaze was icy as he continued and she
moved away from him, wrapping a second shawl around her shoulders.

“Edward and I were sent to kill you after
we had confirmed in Vienna at your salon, it was definitely you we sought.”

“So why am I alive?” she asked. “Why am I
here?”

“We had no intention of killing you, but we
had to make it look as thought you were dead.” He reached out for her hand but
she snatched it away. “Your sister and your nephews, your manservant, your
staff. They all believe you are dead.”

Despite the warmth of the fire and the warm
wine he had sipped, the look on her face chilled him to the bone,

“I demand you take me to my sister’s manor
in Cornwall immediately.” Her tone was imperious and he could see the shrewd
couturier who commanded such respect in the world of fashion. The Knights did not
know the strength of this woman working against them.

Regret filled his chest and he shook his
head, denying her request. “I am sorry, Sofia. For your own safety, you must
stay here until Edward sends a message to say it is all clear.”

“Stay here? Stay where? In this draughty
pile of stones?” She stood and walked across to the fire, the deep scarlet
shawls accentuating the pallor of her skin. “You will take me immediately to my
sister’s. If there is danger, I will hide there.” Her voice dropped as she gestured
to the walls around them. “You really expect me to live in this…this… it is
really little better than a hovel.

Anger burned up from his stomach and Dougal
clenched his jaw, highly offended. It might not be silk-lined and have the
latest in gadgets like her salon in Vienna but this castle was his home and it
had been in his family for hundreds of years. He stood and drew himself to his
full height. “You will stay here until I say it is safe.”

She laughed. “Make me.”

“Oh, I will Sofia. Have no doubt of that,”
he replied. The anger burned in his throat and he fought the attraction he had
for this woman. It was not the time to follow the urges of his body, even if
his heart was in agreement for the first time in his life. That may come later,
after he and Edward were sure the Knights were no longer a risk. Once the order
was gone, he would reconsider his feelings for Sofia.

But not before then.

“You will stay here. I will get you some
clothes from Mary and I will show you your room. There is no need to lock you
away…as there is nowhere for you to go.” He left her sitting alone in front of
the fire.

 

Chapter 12

Sofia kneeled in the kitchen garden and
tugged at the weeds between the cobblestones. The Irish wolfhound who had been
her constant companion for the past three months snored quietly beside her.
Bored with gazing at the sea between the small Isle of Rothmore and the
Scottish mainland, she now sought menial tasks to fill her days. Mary gave her
chores in the kitchen and the garden.

The cold had chapped her once flawless
hands and now green streaks from the moist plants she pulled from the cracks in
the stones, colored her fingers. Tucked behind a high stone wall, this small
courtyard where Mary grew her kitchen herbs was protected from the chill wind
which seemed to blow constantly from the sea. Sofia pushed herself to her feet
and wandered across to the bench next to the gate in the wall.

She sighed as the dog followed her and
flopped at her feet. It was almost as though he had been set to guard her.

Not that there was anywhere for her to
go
.

In the months she had been Dougal’s
prisoner she had walked around the small island every day. No one visited the
island and the servants lived in the castle and did not speak to her. She had
searched for a boat to no avail. Dougal disappeared for days on end and even
when he was in the castle, she had not been able to find his boat.

They dined together each night and after
the first few meals in stony silence, they had both thawed slightly and were
able to converse without argument as they ate the food Mary prepared for them
each night.

She now knew the Knights were fully aware
of her laboratory in Vienna and she had expressed her concern for the Professor
to Dougal. He had assured her everything was in place to ensure the safety of
her staff…and her family.

It had taken many days but she had finally
come to an understanding of the danger surrounding her quest and how close she
had come to death. However, Dougal would still not explain how they had
travelled to the Isle of Rothmore despite her insistent questioning. Although
they spoke each evening, he remained aloof and withdrawn and had not laid a
hand on her. She had been moved to a small room in the top of the castle where
sunlight streamed in during the day but she was bored.

No news of the outside world; she was keen
to hear of the ramifications to the government and the business regulations
since the assassination of Queen Victoria. Sofia had questioned Dougal at
length, but he was not forthcoming. He treated her as a person who had no cause
to be interested in the politics of the day

As a woman.

She clenched her fists; there had been
enough of that in Vienna with the refusal to let women into the university. She
would not be beholden to the whims of this man…no matter how much he felt the
need to protect her.

If it is the last thing I do, I will get
off this island.

Voices drifted over the wall and she rose
and moved to the gate. Dougal stood with Edward of Kilmarnock on the grassy
rise leading to the beach and she quickly crossed to them with hope in her
heart.

Perhaps if Edward was here, all was well
and she could leave.

Dougal watched her without expression as
she opened the small wooden gate and held it back for the wolfhound to follow
her.

“Edward.” She nodded to the young man and
smiled to herself as his face flushed a deep red.

“Sofia,” he mumbled. “It is…er…it is good
to see you looking so well.”

“And alive,” she replied sharply. “Do you
have news?”

Dougal shook his head at the younger man
and Sofia drew a deep breath.

“Do not treat me like a simpleton.” Her
voice rose. “If there is news to be had, I want to know. Anything to get off
this godforsaken island and leave this pile of stones behind me,

“When it is safe, I will tell you and you
can go back to your fancy life in Europe.” Dougal’s voice was short and a pang
of regret lodged in her chest as the harsh words about his home left her lips.
It surprised her but she had actually come to tolerate being on the island and
living in his castle.

Time to think and time to enjoy every
day.

It reminded her of the years she spent in
the wilds of Cornwall with Indigo when the twins were born. Her time in Vienna
was not her own and she had pondered on the reasons for the moonflower quest.

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