Summer of the Moon Flower (The de Vargas Family) (10 page)

Indigo grabbed her arm and interrupted her
husband. “We have had some worrying news and wish to stay in touch with you at
all times when you are sourcing the moon flowers.”

Sofia looked from her sister to her
brother-in-law. “What sort of news?”

“It has come to our attention the
information which we conveyed to you, about the passenger on the train coming
into
Westbahnof,
was given to my
man by a colleague of Duke
Lorca. We traced the message and it emanated from Scotland. A small town called
Kilmarnock.”

Sofia narrowed her gaze. “Scotland, you
say? How coincidental.”

“And the worrying thing is, there is a
chapter there in Castle Dean who have links to the Knights Templar,” Zane
continued. “So it is essential you take the utmost care in the Alps. You are
being observed.”

“Would you rather I travel alone?” Sofia
asked. “And leave the boys here?”

“We have considered that, but it will be a
good cover for you and they are looking forward to it. As a precaution, Mr.
Grimoult will travel with you.” Indigo held her gaze. “I expect you will have
more bother from the boy’s high jinks than—”

“Sofia, what did you mean by the Scottish
coincidence.” Zane interrupted his wife, concern lacing his voice.

“No…it is nothing. I recently had a
Scottish client in the salon. Not long after the incident at the station.”

“And you don’t think it was related?”
Indigo moved across to the analytical engine.”What was her name?”

Sofia shook her head. “No matter. It was
purely coincidental. This was an earl from the Little Rothmore…and an
acquaintance.”

Indigo quickly tapped a few keys and pulled
up a map.”Hmm. Little Rothmore is only thirty miles distant from Kilmarnock.”

“No, Indigo. It was purely a coincidence.”

“Sofia, you are way too trusting. There is
no such thing as coincidence.”

Sofia’s temper began to rise and warmth
suffused her face. She knew her older sister had little time for her couturier business
and undervalued her intelligence. She bit back the retort on her tongue and
decided not to mention there was chance she may hear from Dougal again, or
perhaps even cross paths with him in the Alps.

“Come, I am in need of an early night. I am
quite exhausted from my time in Paris,” she said, keeping her voice light. “You
must tell me all about your holiday biomes and about any interesting guests you
have had.”

Indigo looked back at her and obviously
thought it better not to pursue her questioning. Sofia groaned and reached for
the ear muffs as they headed toward the perambulator.

“Aunt Sofia!” The shrill, combined voices
of her nephews rang out over the whistle of the steam train as it pulled into
Salzburg station. “We’re almost there. Is this the mountains? Where’s the
snow?”

Mr. Grimoult smiled at her and reached
across to grab the shirts of the two boys who were leaning out the train window
before they fell out.

“We have a short trip in a steam carriage
and then we will be at the mountains,” Sofia replied patiently. “Although we
will not see much snow until we walk the alpine paths.” She reached up and
adjusted the light gold chain around her neck and tucked the black jewel inside
her blouse. Zane had embedded the device onto the back of a black stone and it
resembled an elegant piece of jewelry rather than a chronometric communication
device. She had already used it to transmit news of their safe arrival to
Indigo.

“Come, we have arrived.” With a flurry of
leg and arms, Sofia managed to catch the hands of the two boys while Mr.
Grimoult struggled along behind them with the luggage. She was enjoying the
company of her two nephews and had delighted in their intelligent conversations
with her on the train journey. They had a far deeper understanding of the world
than she would have expected at their age.

The steam carriage Mr. Grimoult had booked
to convey them to Schladming was waiting for them on the paved road outside the
station. The boys laughed with delight as the driver took their luggage from
Mr. Grimoult. The carriage was painted with cow bells and when it started, the
musical sound of bells rang across the still morning air covering the hissing
of the steam.

Sofia nodded with satisfaction; they
certainly looked like a family on holiday and she was glad the boys were
accompanying her.

The owners of the Schladming Inn welcomed
Sofia with affection. She was a regular visitor and had been staying there for
many years. It had been several months since her last visit and Herr Schwandt
fussed around her.

“ As you
haf
the children, we
haf
given you the large cabin.” He assisted Mr. Grimoult with their bags and
Sofia grabbed the collars of the two boys as they went flying down the path
past her.

“Just one moment, you pair,” she cautioned.
“We need to have a little discussion.”

She tucked her arms through theirs, one
child on either side and walked up the grassy incline behind their cabin. As
they crested the hill, a panoramic view met them. Snow capped mountains rose
from the low fields where cattle grazed and the ever present tinkle of cow
bells drifted across to them. In the distance, two small figures walked out of
the narrow green valley that passed between the two highest peaks.

Sofia pointed to the edge of the fields
where the cattle grazed, to a line of tall conifers edging the lower slopes of
the mountain. “That is the limit of your explorations when you are by
yourselves. You can roam the fields and explore the valley, but you are to go
no higher than the tree line.” She was met by a chorus of protest. “When Mr.
Grimoult or I are with you, we will climb into the snow.”

Jory and Jago agreed, albeit reluctantly,
and headed to the small shed at the front of the inn where Herr Schwandt had
invited them to see the woodcarver at work. Sofia stood and breathed in the
alpine air. It was a pleasure to be away from the noise and grime of the city
and she decided to rest for a couple of days before they trekked to the snow
level. The two hikers moved closer and crossed the grass fields below her. They
paused to examine the cattle before disappearing into the trees at the bottom
of the hill.

Sofia’s heart thudded in her chest.

It couldn’t be
.

Both men wore kilts, although they were too
far away for her to see the tartan. She closed her eyes and swallowed. In one
breath she hoped it was Dougal…yet in the next, she knew if it was him, it was
too much of a coincidence and he couldn’t be trusted.

Sofia opened her eyes and sighed as the
Earl of Rothmore and his manservant broke from the tree line and walked up the
grassy hill toward her. Feelings warred within her and she didn’t know if it
was joy…or sadness…or fear.

When Dougal stepped from the trees and
looked at the lone figure on the top of the hill, excitement filled his chest.

She was here.

Sofia stood at the top of the hill above
them. Her bright scarlet dress contrasted with the soft blue of the sky and her
hair was bound in coils on either side of her face. She raised a hand and waved
and he knew in that moment, he would do anything to protect her. He had not
been able to get her from his thoughts since he had left her in Vienna a week
ago and had given much consideration to the method of ensuring her safety.
Together with Edward, he had hatched a plan and they had been in the mountains
taking readings for the inclinator journey. It had to be three days hence and
after noon for the co-ordinates to be suitable for their destination.

As he watched, two young boys joined her at
the top of the hill and she reached down and put her arms around each of their
shoulders before pointing down the hill.

Damnation, who the dickens was that?

He groaned and turned to Edward. “I believe
we may have an impediment…or two to our plan.”

Edward nodded. “I see.”

They reached the top of the hill to the
excited voices of the two young boys and Dougal smiled at Sofia. “I was hoping
the Madame de Vargas, Herr Schwandt mentioned, was you, Sofia.” He bent over,
took her hand and kissed it gently, pleased to see the flush in her cheeks.

“A wonderful coincidence, Dougal.” She
smiled at him but her voice was cold.

An astute woman.

“And who have we here?” He turned to the
two boys.

“I’m Jory Thoreau.” The one on the left one
spoke first, followed quickly by the identical boy on the right.

“And I’m Jago.”

“Boys,” Sofia said. “This is the Earl of
Rothmore, an acquaintance of mine.” She inclined her head to Edward. “How do
you do, I am Sofia de Vargas.”The young man blushed and stumbled over his reply.
“Ah…Edward of Kilmarnock.”

Sofia’s eyes narrowed and Dougal sensed her
withdrawal.

She gathered up the twins and pulled her
light cloak across her shoulders. “Come young men, it is almost time for
dinner.” Holding her hand out to him, she held his gaze for a moment before
speaking. “No doubt we shall see you there, Dougal?”

Warmth shot up his arm and he ignored it as
he replied. “It will be my pleasure, Sofia.”

Dougal asked Herr Schwandt to set a table
for five. He would invite Sofia and the two young lads to join he and Edward
for dinner. The elderly innkeeper shook his head. “Nein, we will
haf sechs.
There
is her man as well.”

Dougal’s chest tightened and he frowned at
the old man. “Her man?”

“Her servant.”

The relief was profound. When this whole quest
was done with, and he and Edward had hastened the demise of the ancient order
in Kilmarnock, he had every intention of courting Sofia. The instant he had
seen her, when he had entered her salon with that damned automaton, she had
bewitched him. He was not looking forward to the events of the next few days,
but they must carry out their plan. Her life depended on it. However, now they
had the complication of the boys and her manservant to contend with.

At least the boys would not be left
alone when they took Sofia with them.

* * * *

The firelight reflected in the crystal wine
glasses on the table and brought out the deep warm hues of the timber-lined
dining room. Dougal sat back in his chair and sighed, replete from the
sumptuous meal provided by Frau Schwandt. Jory and Jago had been escorted to
their beds by Mr. Grimoult when they had begun to nod over their dinner. The
old retainer had kept them all entertained with tales from his navy days with
the boys’ father—Sofia’s brother-in-law. Edward had followed them yawning and
now Dougal and Sofia were alone in the dining room; their group were the only
guests at the inn tonight.

A bright shard of light reflected from the
unusual jewel sitting between her breasts and he leaned forward. “May I?”

He reached over and lifted it, and turned
it to the light. It was obsidian with intricate gold and silver wire holding it
to the chain. He had not seen anything like it before. “It is most unusual. Was
it handcrafted for you?”

Sofia nodded and tucked back into her bodice
as soon as he let it go. A high flush on her delicate cheekbones indicated she
was not as immune to him as she was pretending to be. She held his gaze.

“The boys’ father, Zane, tinkers with
jewelry making,” she replied. “Speaking of whom, it is time I went to check on
the boys.”

She stood and brushed against his shoulder
as she moved around the table, and he smelled the sweet fragrance of her skin.
His arm seemed to lift of its own accord to circle her tiny waist and pull her
closer to him, but she moved away from him and crossed to the doorway. Sofia
looked at him, her features warring between a frown and confusion—and if he was
correct—desire.

“Ah,” she breathed. “Dougal, you are not
good for my composure.” Her chest rose and fell quickly, and he smiled to
himself as she fought the attraction between them. He stood slowly and crossed
the room to her. He took her hands between his and lifted them to his lips.

‘Will you walk in the moonlight with me,
Sofia?”

She nodded without speaking and he sensed she
had come to a decision. Together, they strolled through the garden to the hill
where they had spoken earlier in the evening. He kept a firm grip on her hand
until they paused at the top of the hill.

She sighed and turned to him, placing her
hands on his chest. “Dougal, will you answer one question for me?” He held her
gaze and nodded. “Why are you here? I am asking you to speak the truth. Are you
following me?”

He looked down at her and rested his brow
on the top of her head and gently pressed a finger to her throat, touching the
pulse beating madly in the alabaster skin. Tonight she wore her hair loose for
the first time and he had imagined running his fingers through it all night.
Now he grasped it gently and tipped her head back looking down into her eyes.
“That is a strange question, Sofia. Why would I be following you?”