by Annie Seaton
“I knew there was something strange about that man. His wife was like a dead woman, but Sofia was so taken by him.” Lucienne’s voice trembled
None of the staff from the university in Vienna had attended. Indigo had beseeched them to stay away in case of more danger and they had been unable to contact two of the researchers who were on some mysterious journey. She did not want to put the boys at further risk. Until it was discovered who was behind Sofia’s murder, they would take the utmost care and she had personally supplied funds to place a guard on the laboratory in Vienna.
Sofia’s body had not been retrieved. Even though it was summer in the Alps, there were so many crevasses and fissures, the search teams had been unable to find any sign of her. They knew she had fallen...or been pushed, as her silver cloak was caught on a protruding rock half way down the sheer rock face. The two Scottish men had disappeared and Indigo still held onto a slim hope her sister had been kidnapped. But Mr. Grimoult was adamant he had heard her scream as she had fallen, and had seen the rocks tumbling down after her.
But Indigo refused to accept her sister’s death. A month had passed and she sat by the chronometric receiver at all hours of the day and night, hoping and praying Sofia would send her a message. Finally Zane had come to get her one morning and she had looked up into his sad eyes and broken down. She had finally accepted there was no hope and organized the memorial service. She had the boys to think of, her biomes to run and Mr. Grimoult to console.
Sofia was gone.
But she planned one trip once the boys had settled.
She and Zane would travel to the Isle of Little Rothmore.
A CHILL WIND BLEW IN from the sea and the fire sputtered in the hearth of the huge fireplace. Any heat disappeared up the cavernous chimney or up into the high roof of the large room. The solid wooden door was bolted from the outside and only a glimpse of gray sky was visible through the high narrow gap at the top of the stone wall.
She knew the wind was from the sea. It was salt-tanged and occasionally a sour whiff of sour kelp would float through the room. The keening of seabirds kept her awake at night and when the wind was quiet, the soughing of the sea sweeping across pebbles slipped into her consciousness. Two days ago she had woken up to fingers of mist seeping in through the high windows. She was not in the Alps, that much she knew. But wherever it was, it was a bleak godforsaken place.
Sofia leaned against the cold stone wall and stood on her toes. If she stretched high enough she could see the green leaves of a large tree fluttering in the wind through a small gap in the stone. It was the only thing moving in her lonely prison.
The fluttering of leaves and the glowing charcoal on the fire.
Tiredness overwhelmed her. She pulled her cloak around her throat and touched her bare neck. The communication device Indigo had given her had not been around her neck when she had woken up three long days ago. Even if she’d had the device it would have been useless because she couldn’t have called for rescue; she had no idea where she was. Her thoughts were confused and ran into each other.
Woken up in a bed alone. Cold. With no idea of where she was.
She stood with her cheek pressed against the cold stone wall. She did not know where Dougal was. Nor did she really care.
He could rot in hell.
The last time she had seen him was the moment he had pushed her over the precipice. All she could remember was a kaleidoscope of images, places and people flashing past her eyes as she fell.
Like one of her nephews’ toys.
To certain death, she had thought as she screamed.
Now she was alone in this cold, cavernous room. She hadn’t seen nor spoken to another soul for three full days and nights. For a time, she had imagined she was dead. Clothed in a long white nightgown, her hair was loose and her feet were bare. So if it wasn’t heaven or hell, someone had ministered to her since she had been brought to this unknown place. If she could get out of here and find Dougal, she would kill him without a second thought.
Her throat ached with unshed tears as she imagined the grief Indigo and her family were going through. Oh, God, she prayed the twins had not seen her fall nor heard her screams. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands but refused to let the tears fall. Dropping her arms to her side, she crossed the room and climbed into the bed and turned her face into the feather pillow
Drifting in and out of sleep for another night, the room darkened and lightened with the passing of the hours, and Sofia finally awoke to a freshly stoked fire and food on a tray next to the bed.
She could not live like this. It was the path to madness.
If someone didn’t come soon...
There was a loud clang as the bolt lifted on the door and it creaked open. A small woman is a maid’s uniform and a cap covering her hair scurried in, her eyes downcast. She went over to the fire and put a large log on top of the lowering flames, before turning her attention to the bedside table and reaching for the tray.
Sofia had not touched the food. The woman raised her eyes and said in a soft voice with a strong Scottish burr in her words.
“You moost eat, ma’am.”
“Where am I?” Sofia demanded. “What is this place?”
The woman bowed her head and backed out of the room, clutching the tray. The door slammed shut behind her and the bolt dropped on the other side. Sofia climbed up into the bed and pulled the soft woolen blanket over her head and cursed the man who had taken her away from all she knew.
THE SUN SHONE FROM a palette of gold and pink as it rose into the summer sky and Dougal, Earl of Rothmore rode away from Castle Dean, turning his mount eagerly toward the coast road. He had left Edward at his manor at Kilmarnock where he had passed the night before calling into Castle Dean for a private meeting with the Leader of the Council of Five.
A financial reward in gold had been offered to them however Dougal had assured the Council the spiritual recompense of recognition by the knights was sufficient payment for their quest.
He and Edward had discussed their plans late into the night and were satisfied; they would be able to move against the Council within months. Edward would continue to meet with the local knights to gain their allegiance, under cover of his official position on the civil parish board of the Kilmarnock parish. In the meantime, Dougal was anxious to return to his castle on the island to check on the well-being of Sofia.
He would not use the Astrolaberors until he reached the coast for fear of being observed, and would travel on horseback until he reached the small, flat boat he had stored in a cave in a small bay across from his island. It was only two miles across at the closest point but once he pushed the boat off shore, and was sure he was not under observation he would to use the device to reach his island and Sofia.
As he rode, his thoughts turned to Sofia. A pang of regret lodged in his chest for the way they had staged her murder on the mountain. He knew there would be much grief and his heart ached for her family, particularly the boys who had been present. It was only a matter of time before he and Edward would be summonsed to an investigation.
Edward had reassured him over a gillie of whisky in the wee hours. “’Twas the only way, Dougal. If there had been any doubt, the Council would have sent their henchmen to dispose of her and Madame de Vargas would be deceased by now.” The young man raised his glass. “Patience. That is what you told me when we first travelled to Vienna. Although—” the young man looked at him “— I suspect you may be thinking with your heart and not your intellect. A bit of fondness for the lassie?”
Dougal had ignored Edward’s comment. “I know, we must be patient but I fear the grief caused by this event, may override any rational thinking before all can be explained. However an investigation into our involvement will be the final evidence for the Council.” He swigged his whisky and it burned all the way down his throat. “I am not looking forward to meeting with Sofia on Rothmore on the morrow.”
Now Dougal turned his mount onto the na
rrow coastal road and focused his thoughts on the meeting to come. He reached into his pocket and rubbed his fingers on the shiny black stone he had removed from around Sofia’s neck. She had lain in the huge bed, deeply asleep and breathing softly. A soft murmur had left her lips when his fingers brushed her neck as he’d released the clasp and placed the black jewel in a pouch against his heart, wanting to keep her close.
His instructions to Mary, his young, loyal housekeeper had been clear. Under no circumstances was Sofia to leave her room until he returned. He frowned, imagining how cross Sofia would be after three days locked away in that cavernous room. At least it had a privy. He would let her show her displeasure before he told her why they had to stage her murder.
But, he could not tell Sofia everything...not yet.
Mary had at first been resistant to his direction. “I see a puir woman in that room who dinna kens her place in this house an you expect me to keep her locked in there? She's just as deservin’ of some respect and you’re a fule, man...”
Eventually he had convinced her it was a matter of life and death and Mary had agreed to his request.
His horse whinnied and Dougal looked around, but it was only the proximity of the water exciting his mount who knew there was hay for him in the small enclosure on the coast. Dougal pulled on the reigns as they crested the last hill and smiled. His island, Little Rothmore, sat a short distance across the firth, jewel-like on the sea before him. Smoke puffed lazily from the kitchen chimney and the larger chimney on the eastern side where Sofia was ...resting. He would not use the term imprisoned, even in his own thoughts. She was a guest and would be a guest on his island until he and Edward achieved their quest.
After tethering his mount and ensuring it had enough hay, Dougal reached into his small knapsack and removed the Astrolaberors. He clambered down the cliff; the small stones skittered beneath his feet and disturbed the nesting seabirds. They rose into the air squawking around him. He stopped halfway down and settled to wait until the sun was at its zenith; the co-ordinates were set for midday. The wait would also ensure he had not been followed and he looked back at the cliff top to watch for any sign of a follower.
SOFIA WOKE SLOWLY AS voices drifted into her consciousness.
It was Dougal.
She would recognize the voice of the man who had haunted her dreams for the past three days, whether awake or asleep. Climbing down from the high bed, she shivered as her bare feet touched the cold stone and she reached for her cloak, before walking over to the door once more. She had pushed it and pulled at the solid oak door for the past day.
Finally deciding to wait and overpower the maid when she next came to replenish the food, she had waited in vain because the woman had not returned again. Hysteria had clawed at her throat in the dark of the night as she imagined the worst; being abandoned in this godforsaken place until she starved to death. There was no way out. She had felt her way around every inch of the sold walls pulling at every protruding piece of stone. Crawled across the floor and lifted every woven rug, looking for a trap door...to no avail.
“Mary, hand the tray to me and I will take it in.” Dougal’s voice was close.
Sofia could not understand the words of the woman who seemed to be arguing with him, but eventually her voice faded away with her footsteps. She stepped back to the side, looking wildly around the room. There was nothing she could use as a weapon. The logs on the fire had burned to ash and there was nothing small enough to pick up to fling at the murderous bastard when he came into the room.
She pressed her back against the wall waiting for him. The bolt creaked and the massive door opened slowly. The shadow of a large body darkened the floor in the doorway. Dougal stepped into the room and Sofia shrieked and jumped onto his back, reaching around for his eyes and gouging with her fingertips. The tray he was carrying crashed to the ground and he reached up behind him and grabbed her arms.
“Mord bastard.” She screeched like a banshee trying to beat at him with hands that were now held securely in his grasp. “You murdering bastard, let me go.”
“Calm down,” he said quietly. “It is all fine, now.”
“It is not,” she sobbed with frustration as he turned her around and pinned her to the wall.
“Mary,” he called. “Bolt the door.”
Sofia screamed and lunged at him fastening her teeth onto his ear and biting as hard as she could.
“You little hellion,” he yelled, releasing one hand and grabbing her chin roughly. “You’ve drawn blood.” He pushed her away before turning her and putting her over his shoulder.
“And I’ll draw more before I’m finished with you,” she panted.”You...you...festering, ignoble cur.”
Dougal lifted her and carried her across the room.
THE EARL OF ROTHMORE fought a smile as the flailing fists pounded his back and a string of curses more suited to the gutter assailed his ears. The blows barely registered on his flesh underneath the thick vest he wore over his linen shirt, but her curses grew louder as he moved across toward the large bed in the centre of the room
“When you are quite finished, Sofia. I will put you down.”
“I will kill you, Dougal. I swear by all that—”
“Enough, woman,” he roared. “If you will hold your tongue for one minute, I will put you down and we can have a civilized conversation.”
“Pah!”
He dumped her unceremoniously on the bed and took a step back as Sofia sat up and glared at him. She leaned back, her arms supported her on the woolen blankets and her chest heaved with each breath. Her face was pale except for twin spots of red, high on her cheeks.
Glaring at him, she opened her mouth to speak and he held his hand high.
“No.” Dougal tried to keep his voice soft. Despite her anger, his body was responding to her. She dropped her gaze and grabbed at the white chemise, pulling it together over her alabaster skin.
He grunted and walked across to the fire which had almost burned out. Crouching down, he looked around for something to poke at the ashes but there was nothing.
“Yes, Dougal. I have watched the fire burn away. I have not eaten, nor drunk of the wine your whore has brought me. There is nothing here.”
A reluctant smile twitched at his lips at the thought of his loyal housekeeper being referred to as his whore.
“Come, now, Sofia. That is very harsh,” he said. “Did you not hear Mary expressing her displeasure with me outside the door?”
“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.