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Summer of the Moon Flower (The de Vargas Family)

Page 5

by Seaton, Annie


  “May I be frank, Dougal?”

  “You may.”

  “Your father was a very good friend to mine and they shared a common goal. I am unsure of your allegiance to your father’s philosophies or if you were indeed aware of his goal before he died. At Castle Dean when our Leader asked for someone to join you in this task, I prayed to myself that you were privy to the thoughts of your father. That is why I volunteered and took the vows.”

  Douglas smiled. The expression in the young man’s voice as he mentioned the vows left him in no doubt that they were of the same mind.

  “Well then, Edward. We have an interesting task ahead.”

  He leaned back and closed his eyes.

  “Wake me when we are over Vienna.”

  Chapter 5

  At precisely four o’clock, a carriage drew to a halt in the Lindengasse across from the salon. Sofia sat on a velvet-lined love seat beneath the window sipping a cup of chamomile tea and glanced across at Lucienne who waited at the entrance to greet the Earl of Rothmore and his wife.

  “Ah…merveilleux,” Lucienne exclaimed.

  “What is it?” asked Sofia.

  “We have a very wealthy client by all appearances.” The petite salon manager peered through the spy hole on the main door. “He drives one of those new horseless carriages. There are only a few in the city and they are costly.”

  Sofia’s curiosity was aroused. She’d had no clients from Scotland before and would be interested to hear how a wealthy earl and his wife had come to hear of Salon de Vargas.

  “Ooh, la la,” chirped Lucienne. “And his wife is very drab. We will have some work to do here.”

  Sofia stood and patted her hand over her hair now coiled in braids around her forehead. A short rest after the departure of the ladies from the colonies had refreshed her and now she looked forward to meeting a new client…especially one with a wealthy husband. A substantial sale would be well received financially, with Johann and Genevieve’s trip to England looming and her own trip to the Alps in the preparation stage.

  The bell on the front door rang and Sofia stepped back into the shadows at the side of the room to observe her new customer. Lucienne ushered a short woman dressed from head to toe in black through the door and into the main salon. Her black dress was fashioned from Henrietta crepe, a bland fabric Sofia detested. A weeping veil of more black crepe covered her face and she wore no adornments. Her head was lowered and she didn’t speak.

  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 h
er 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.”

  Chapter 6

  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.

  Sofia let herself out the door and stepped on to the footpath. All was quiet. The gas lights shone dimly in the early evening gloom and cast eerie shadows onto the deserted street. She shook herself, irritation settling in her chest. Since the attack at Westbahnof, she had avoided going anywhere alone, but tonight she was determined to overcome her trepidation. A visit to Café Schwarzenberg and Herr Hochleitner would help her regain her confidence. The Kaffeehäuser was on the Kartner Strasse on the other side of the Ringstrasse and a two mile walk from her salon and she set off, composing the message to Indigo in her head as she headed toward the palace on the Museumplatz.

  If she left the Rothmore order under Lucienne’s direction, she could leave for Cornwall within a couple of day
s. She had warned Indigo the visit was imminent so it should not be a problem to collect the boys. The last she’d heard Jago and Jory had been sent home from their boarding school because of their spirited behavior. She smiled to herself; the chaos in her sister’s household kept her in a constant state of amazement.

  Sofia enjoyed her own quiet life alone in her apartment above the salon. Granted, it did become lonely at times but she would not be able to function in the noisy chaos that was Indigo’s manor house. The boys had all inherited their mother’s strong will and were determined to demonstrate it at every opportunity. Unfortunately, none of the schools they had attended were predisposed to dealing with such boisterous young men.

  The noise and chaos were kept in check to some extent by Mr. and Mrs. Grimoult, Indigo’s trusted servants. Nevertheless, Sofia loved visiting, and it gave her respite from the constant worry of overseeing the moonflower research at the laboratory.

  She paused as a carriage sped past her and blinked in confusion. As it had flashed past it had reminded her of the carriage the earl…Dougal…had entered earlier. Biting her lip, she determined to forget this man who had occupied her thoughts since the moment he had walked into the salon.

  Even if she had been interested in a liaison, it was out of the question. He was a client—or rather his wife was— and that was the gist of the problem. He was married and therefore she would give him no more thought. Taking a deep breath she thought of the forthcoming expedition, as the sweet fragrance of the spring flowers in the Burggarten drifted out to her. There was a gap in the wall and a viewing area for the public to see the private garden and Sofia stood with her hand on the cold fence rail. The night flowers were illuminated by the rising moon and she craned her neck to get a glimpse of the moonflower which she knew was growing amongst the ferny fronds behind the fountain. It was the only place she knew where the moonflower had been propagated successfully out of the Alpine region.

 

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