Summer of the Moon Flower (The de Vargas Family) (7 page)

Sofia’s gaze moved to the man who had
followed the drab woman into the salon. He was tall and broad…one of the
tallest men she had ever seen and he was clad in full Scottish regalia. The
dull colors of his wife’s attire accentuated the colors in his tartan kilt and
cape. Bright magenta, umber brown and a deep sky-blue edged with a fine white
line contrasted with her drab black dress. Thin brogues encased his feet, past
a short colorful buskin tied above his calf with a striped pair of garters.
Bare knees, a glimpse of muscular thighs, and a broad chest and shoulders
flashed past her vision as she met his amused stare.

Deep blue eyes crinkled as the Earl of
Rothmore smiled at her. “You will not have seen much Scottish dress in
Wien
,
Madame?” His voice was deep and full of laughter, and Sofia had to listen
carefully to understand the words beneath his strong Scottish accent. She
walked across the room to him and nodded to Lucienne.

“Refreshments, please. I am sure our guests
would like to partake of a cool drink?”

Lucienne went to the rear of the salon and
pulled the bell rope to summon the maid.

“No, sir. I have not” Sofia extended her
hand to the earl. “I apologize for staring but the magnificent colors in your
kilt caught my attention.”

“It is the Rothmore tartan, Madame. The
blue is the glimmer of light on the sea around my island and the white is the
sudden shaft of sunlight on the waves. The purple represents the heather.”

“Fascinating and very beautiful,” she
replied looking down at the strong hand still grasping hers. “Please forgive my
rudeness. I am Sofia de Vargas and I welcome you and your wife to my
establishment.”

He raised her hand to his mouth and gently
kissed the edge of her wrist and Sofia looked at him curiously.

An unusual man, well spoken and
confident. Not what she had been expecting at all.

“A pleasure to meet you, Madame. This is
my… er…Celestine. The small woman nodded and lowered her head before her
husband led her to a seat in the corner. He tucked her shawl around her
shoulders and patted her on the knee. “Are you comfortable, my dear?”

The woman nodded without speaking and the
earl crossed the room back to Sofia. He took her arm and led her across to the
window and lowered his head. Sofia shivered when his warm breath touched her
ear. “My wife is most unwell and has been in a decline since the sudden death
of Queen Victoria. She is English and mourns her monarch deeply. I thought a
visit to your salon may help her recover.” He took her hand again. “She hasn’t
spoken since the news of the Queen’s death reached us.”

Sofia looked down at her hand still in his
grasp. He turned it over and looked at it with unusual interest before she
pulled it back and spoke briskly.

“I am very sorry to hear of your wife’s
illness. The death of Queen Victoria was most unexpected. Now shall we begin?”
She clapped her hands and two of her assistants came immediately into the
salon. “Jeannie and Belle will take your wife’s measurements and I will show
her some fabrics.” She looked up to find his gaze was fixed on her face.
“Perhaps you would like to retire to the room we have set aside for gentlemen?”

“No,” he replied. “I will choose the
fabrics. My…wife is not in any state to make decisions.”

“Very well.” Sofia walked to the end of the
long salon and gestured to him to follow.

Many bolts of fabric lay draped over the
large tables at the back of the room and she watched with growing pleasure as
he reached over to the Turkish silk.

Yes, that would be a very nice purchase.

“A wonderful fabric—suitable for an
afternoon dress,” she commented as the sinuous silk slipped between his
fingers.

“Yes,” he replied. “We will order one of
these for each day in seven different colors.”

Sofia nodded. “And what else do you
require?”

“After we depart
Wien
, I am taking
my wife into the Alps for a summer holiday, so some bright dresses and evening
clothes will be required.”

Sofia nodded. “The mountain air should help
her recover. The Alps are wonderfully restorative.”

“Can you recommend an establishment high in
the mountains?” he asked.

Sofia looked up and warmth filled her as
his intent gaze fixed on her lips. She stared at him and he lifted his eyes to
meet hers. A feeling such as she had never experienced before pooled in her
chest and the warmth travelled down to her stomach and her legs trembled.

He held her stare while she sought the
words that would not come to her lips.

“Ah…ah…there is an excellent inn at
Schladming. I have stayed there myself on many occasions and the service and
the accommodation are first class. It has been there for many years.” She
gathered her thoughts together, despite the trembling of her limbs.” I believe
the poet Wordsworth stayed there and is oft quoted as lauding the wild spaces
of the mountains as sublime and a countervailing force to the corrupting
influences of civilization.”

She turned away from him and reached for a
bolt of serviceable fabric, cross with herself for her response to his touch
and look. “Now, if you are walking in the Alps, your wife will need some warmer
dresses as the cool afternoons can bring on a chill.” She called for Lucienne
before turning back to the earl and was dismayed to see his gaze still firmly
fixed on her face. “Lucienne, would you please take the details for the—”

“Dougal,” he interrupted. “Please call me
Dougal.”

“Very well. For Dougal.” She knew her voice
was clipped. She needed to get away from his intense blue gaze. It was strange but
it was as though he could see her innermost thoughts and no-one was allowed
into her mind. Not even Ernst…the only person who she was open with was Indigo
and they met very rarely.

She nodded at the earl and turned back to
look at his wife who was being measured by the one of the assistants. Celestine
did not move and stared into the distance as though she was uninterested.

“Very well…Dougal.” Sofia held out her
hand, determined not to let his touch affect her this time. “My staff will take
care of your needs. It has been a pleasure meeting you and—” she turned to the
woman standing immobile in the corner “—your wife.” I hope the alpine air has
the desired benefits for her health.”

Dougal lowered his lips and kissed her hand
once more and smiled down at her. “The pleasure has been mine…Madame.”

She turned and left the salon without a
backward glance although her legs were trembling and her heart was pounding.
When she reached the safety of the perambulator, she drew a deep shaking breath
and closed her eyes.

Never before, had she been so enthralled by
a man. And the earl had simply provoked those feelings with his intense blue
stare and the touch of his hand on hers. Sofia raised her wrist and held it
against her mouth, imagining she could still feel his lips pressing against her
skin.

****

Dougal walked across to the window and
stared out, deep in thought. He reached down and fingered the glove in the
small leather bag on his hip.

She was the one.

Not only would her tiny hand be perfect fit
for the small glove, but her height and the way she moved were identical to the
cloaked figure in the station. And she had mentioned visiting the Alps.

He had no doubt it was her.

For the time being, Sofia de Vargas was
safe. He and Edward had been given the task of disposing of her and if the
Grand Master could be trusted, no one else would be pursuing her just yet.

He smiled grimly. Edward had shared his
despair with the Charter of the lodge and his distrust of the Council of Five.
They’d had a lengthy conversation before they had disembarked from the
dirigible when it had touched down at the landing stage in the Prater, the
former imperial hunting ground, one of the most modern landing areas on the
continent.

Edward was still on board the small airship
awaiting Dougal’s instructions for their next move. It would be necessary to
find lodgings in Vienna for a few days while he sought more information on
Sofia’s trip to the Alps. A plan was beginning to form in Dougal’s mind. He
would take the automaton back to the dirigible and then he and Edward would
seek some lodgings.

He turned to the salon manager. “How long
will it be before we can take delivery of my wife’s garments?”

“Less than a week,” she replied. “Madame de
Vargas has a team of reliable seamstresses awaiting her direction.”

“Very well.” He walked over to the
automaton who was sitting with her head bowed.”Come along, my dear, we shall go
to our lodgings.” Dougal place his hand under the elbow of his ‘wife’ and was
dismayed to hear a whirring sound. To cover the malfunction, he bent and swept
the automaton into his arms and walked quickly to the door.

“My wife is feeling poorly,” he called over
his shoulder. “I shall return with the details of our accommodation on the
morrow.”

The salon manager ran past him and opened
the door to the street for him. “I hope your wife recovers quickly. Are you
sure you would not rather she rest here until she recovers her breath?”

Dougal shook his head and stepped through
the door and thanked the salon manager before striding across to his carriage.
After he had lifted the whirring and clicking Celestine into the vehicle, he
glanced up and smiled to himself. A shadowed figure stood at the window of the
apartment looking down at him. He vowed to himself he would do everything in
his power to see Sofia de Vargas remained safe. Her guarded reaction to him
indicated she was well aware of the danger around her.

Climbing into the vehicle next to his
‘wife’, Dougal grimaced at the array of springs beginning to protrude from her
body. Luckily, she had managed to stay intact while they were in the salon. He
was sure the chapter could have afforded to fund their quest to a more
satisfactory level and at least let them purchase an automaton that would last
longer than one day. As it was he and Edward had already put their own funds to
the hire of the dirigible and the carriage. Shaking his head, he reached for
the brass headset and placed it over his ears before flicking the power cog to
start the carriage.

The drive to the Prater was slow as both
air and ground traffic were heavy, and it was nearly dark by the time Dougal
turned into the carriage bay closest to their airship. Edward sat on the steps
of the dirigible awaiting his return and jumped to his feet as Dougal slid from
the vehicle.

“Was it her? Did you find her?” His voice
was full of excitement.

“Yes, I became acquainted with Madame de
Vargas and I am sure she is the cloaked woman from the station last week,”
Dougal replied. He removed his gloves and ran a hand though his hair in
frustration. “Are you talented with mechanicals?” he asked the younger man. “My
wife appears to have lost some springs.”

“I
canna
fix those creatures,” said
Edward. “They spook me almost as much as the Grand Master.”

Dougal laughed. “Well, I seem to have
become a widower very quickly. Anyway, not to matter. I have established
contact with Madame de Vargas and we now have to find ourselves some lodgings
for a few nights.”

“Very well,’ replied Edward. “But first a
meal, I think?”

Dougal nodded. “I will just store poor
Celestine safely in the airship and we will go and find a good
Kaffeehäuser.
”

There was a sharp snap as Sofia drew the
cogs together on the front door of the salon. Lucienne had been the last to leave
and had relayed her misgivings about the earl’s wife as she had prepared to
leave for the day.

“There is something very strange about that
woman,” she insisted.”She may as well have been comatose when Bella took her
measurements. Bella was most upset. She said it was like touching a corpse. Her
skin was cold and she did not move.” She shook her head at Sofia. “I fear if we
have any more visits from her, the young ladies will be reluctant to attend to
her.”

“Yes, the earl and his lady wife were
certainly not what I expected,” Sofia agreed. “Anyway, it was a very good sale.
I will reward Bella for her trouble this afternoon.”

Sofia stood with her back against the door
and surveyed the room. As usual, her staff had cleared everything away before
they departed. The expensive bolts of fabric were locked in the storeroom and
the room had been restored to its immaculate condition. She wandered through
the salon and into the small office at the back of the lower level, running her
fingers through the silk hanging in the doorway. Sitting at her rosewood
writing table, she rested her chin in her hand and closed her eyes. She should
contact Indigo and let her know she would be coming to Cornwall to collect the
two boys for a visit to the Alps, but she was restless.

Impatiently she stood again, and walked
across to the cloakroom and pulled out her long silver coat. Tomorrow would be
soon enough to send a missive to her sister. For the moment she needed a walk
to clear her head. The Earl of Rothmore would not leave her thoughts and she
must have clear head to plan her journey.