by Annie Seaton
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 days. 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.
For a brief moment, she pondered the possibility of breaching the garden one night and collecting the specimens from there, but quickly realized there were few flowers in bloom. She stretched on her toes and froze as a cold metallic finger brushed her arm. Turning swi
ftly, she put her hand on her rapidly beating heart, and let a relieved breath out when she realized it was only a decorative piece of the fence rail.
Looking around at the mist settling in the spring evening, she tucked her head down and walked briskly toward the Café Schwarzenberg, crossing the great Ringstrasse boulevard which was in the midst of construction.
She pushed open the door and smiled at the seated cashier who was flirting coquettishly with a young man in a kilt. Sofia closed her eyes. The city is full of Scots today.
“Willkommen.” The booming voice of Herr Hochleitner greeted her. “Madame de Vargas. It is such a pleasure. We have not seen you for a few weeks.”
Sofia glanced across at the young man staring at her with his mouth open, before she reached across and took Herr Hochleitner’s arm. “Yes, Hans. The salon has been busy and I have come to say farewell before I depart for the Alps to take some mountain air.”
She watched curiously as the young man scurried into the gambling room at the back of the coffee house. Herr Hochleitner smiled down at her affectionately before leading her to the special lady parlour.
“Now tell me what has your dear wife prepared today?” she asked as she slid into a single bench along the window.
“An egg in a glass, or a sweet perhaps?” he asked. “Maria has made some Buchtein this afternoon with jam from the spring plums in our garden.”
“Then I must sample one,” she replied. Settling back against the timber-lined wall, she positioned herself where she could observe the evening crowd who would soon be making their way to the opera. It was early and she was the first customer in the parlour. The gilt edged mirrors reflected the candlelight coming from the many ornate chandeliers hanging low from the high ceiling. A low buzz of noise drifted from the smoky atmosphere of the gambling room across from her. She glanced across to the room; it was full of men, lounging around on the padded seats or leaning over the pool tables.
Sofia turned her attention to the street as a carriage hovered past outside the window. A footman ran forward and pulled down the steps and she smiled as she recognized an evening gown from her salon. Business had been brisk over the past few weeks as local society prepared for the spring launch of the musical season. The Vienna State Opera hall had recently been commissioned by the Viennese City Expansion Fund and would provide further opportunities for her salon once completed.
Sofia sighed. As soon as her staff had completed the creation of the elixir from this expedition to the Alps, she was going to hand the research over to Ernst and Johann. It was time—
“A penny for your thoughts, Madame?”
The warm rolling words of a deep Scottish brogue interrupted her thoughts. She turned slowly from the window, knowing before she looked up the voice belonged to the Earl of Rothmore.
“Sir.” She nodded to him. “It is a surprise to see you so soon.”
“It is a pleasure to see you again too, Madame.” The earl slid onto the bench beside her.
“You are unaware, sir, this is the ladies parlour?” She was determined not to let the warmth of his thigh pressing against her leg affect her and she moved away. “Are you with your wife? I trust she has recovered?”
Dougal reached across and held her chin gently with his hand. “I know it is the ladies room. However when my manservant told me you had entered the establishment, I could not resist coming in to see you.” The warmth from his strong fingers travelled down her neck and lodged in her chest, just above her fast beating heart.
“And your wife, sir?” she repeated.
He looked at her with a strange expression on his face and did not answer.
“I am not a courtesan, sir. I may be liberal and forward minded, however I am not in the habit of partaking of a dalliance with a married man,” she said firmly. “However flattered I am by your attention, it is unwelcome. I am about to partake of my meal. It has been a long day and I am tired.” She turned and waited for him to leave but the grip on her chin tightened and the first prickle of unease flickered across her skin.
“Sofia?” His voice was soft. “May I call you Sofia?
She did not reply and tried to inject displeasure into the stare she directed at him. He let go of her face and trailed gentle fingers down her neck before placing his hands on the table.
“Sofia, I am an honest man and not used to deception.” He held her gaze and continued. “I do not have a wife. The woman you met this afternoon is... my...” He paused and looked at her.”She is the wife of an acquaintance who knew I was travelling to Vienna.”
Her first reaction was relief, but then discomfort covered her like the cold fingers of the mist outside as suspicion began to build in her mind.
“Why, then sir, did you pretend she was your wife?” Her voice was heavy with displeasure. He hesitated and she sensed he was being less than truthful with her.
“I did not want you to think I—”
“Why were you in my salon?” She cut off his words before he could complete the lie she knew was about to come from his lips.
“The truth?”
She nodded.
“I wanted to meet you and it seemed the only way to make your acquaintance. You do not mix widely in society.”
“No, that’s true,” she replied. “However, sir, you have me intrigued. Why would you wish to meet me? So far from your earldom and your island...or is that all a fancy as well?”
Dougal straightened in the seat and smiled at her. “I apologise for the one and only untruth I told you today, Sofia. Yes, I am an earl. I have a castle on Little Rothmore and I am travelling to the Alps to take the mountain air. I am with my manservant, Edward and I will be leaving the...my acquaintance’s wife in Vienna until her garments are ready.”
“And her health?”
“Er...she is indisposed and is need of medical attention which has been arranged.”
He turned his gaze to the window as he spoke and she knew once more, he was not telling the truth. Despite his lies, she was pleased he was sitting here with her. It was not often she had the company of intelligent men in a social setting. The time she spent in the laboratory with Ernst and Johann was fraught with tension, and Henri, her own manservant was more like a father to her.
“Would you like to join me for coffee?”
His features relaxed as a smile broke over his face and he reached across and picked up her hand. “I would be delighted, Madame.”
Hans returned with her Buchtein and sweetened milky coffee. He assured Dougal it was acceptable for him to stay in the ladies parlour until more customers arrived later in the evening. Sofia sipped on her coffee and observed the man sitting across from her.
His dark hair was pulled back and tied in a tail with a strip of leather, and left his features clear for close inspection. Deep blue eyes of a clarity she had not seen before, were framed by dark curling lashes. Her gaze travelled down to his full lips and on closer inspection, discovered a narrow white scar ran from the side of his mouth to the centre of his cheek.. His cheeks had the ruddy glow of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors and the hand that had held hers was work-roughened.
“Tell me about yourself, Dougal. Why are you in Vienna?”
“I had business to attend to and then I am taking a holiday in the mountains,” he replied. “There is an Austrian cattle breed which survives in the rocky conditions and cold temperatures in the alpine pastures I wish to inspect.
“The rocky condition and bitter temperatures are the same as my island home.” He laughed. “Very different to the sophistication of Vienna.”
“I am well used to travelling in your country. My sister lives in Cornwall and I visit her.” Sofia sighed. “Although not as frequently as I would like.”
The sound of laughter drifted in from the foyer and Dougal stood and held his hand out to her.
“I shall depart the ladies parlour,” he said with a smile. “Perhaps you will allow me to escort you to your apartment?”
Sofia looked u
p at him, torn between her suspicions of him and her intuition he was a good man.
She shrugged. “Certainly, it is a lengthy walk, but a pleasant evening. I would appreciate the company.”
Dougal insisted on paying the cashier for Sofia’s coffee and after a quick word with his young manservant, led her out onto the street. Sofia shivered as the cold wind from the Alps met them. Dougal’s warm fingers brushed her throat as he tucked her cloak more snugly about her shoulders and she shivered again, but not from the cold this time.
“If we walk close together, it will shield the wind from you,” he said thoughtfully. “I am used to the cold. My castle is cold and draughty and the wind blows from the sea in all directions.
They walked soft-footed in the stillness of the clear night and only her occasional direction to take a turn, here or there, broke their companionable silence. It seemed to be no time at all before they reached the Lindengasse and they stood together under the gas lamp outside the door of her salon.
Sofia gasped as a rhythmic clicking surrounded them and looked over her shoulder waiting for the metallic grasp of an automaton. Dougal pulled her close and his arms banded tight around her.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
She grasped his shirt and burrowed into his hard chest trying to control her shaking.
“Can you see it? Where is it?” She was barely able to get the words out as fear snaked up her spine. Lifting her head, she peeked around his solid bulk. A piece of metal had come loose from the gas lamp and the wind was blowing it against the lamppost. She drew a shaky breath and let go of his shirt.
His hold gentled and he reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Why so timid?” he asked gently.
Her heart was thudding in her chest and she leaned into him once more. It was safe...and warm...and comforting. She could get used to this very quickly.