Trust (36 page)
“She says that, but keeps skipping lunch and who knows what else.”
“Well, then. Let me entreat you to try our delicious food while you’re in Craigdale.” He winked at her in the mirror. “Make sure Alistair Connor gives you a quick tour before tea. We have our private rooms. Basically, on the west wing, the ground floor and the third and fourth floors are ours. The spa is at the back of the ground floor and the entire lower ground.”
“Ah, Father,” Alistair cleared his throat. “What room did you reserve for Sophia?”
Lachlann gazed at Alistair with a surprised look on his face before returning his attention to the windy road. “Aren’t you both staying in your room?”
“Err…” Alistair shifted on the seat to stare at Sophia with a raised eyebrow. She shook her head and he sighed before saying, “I am. She isn’t.”
Lachlann, who followed the exchange from the corner of his eyes, gawked at Alistair for a second in utter disbelief and grinned. “I don’t believe it.”
“And what is so funny?” Alistair gave his father a black look and then at Sophia as she tittered on the front seat.
“I wish your mother could see this,” he chortled, amazed. “Well done, my girl, well done,” Lachlann spoke under his breath before glancing at her in the mirror with a huge smile. “Your daughter is staying with Ariadne on the third floor, near Alice. Alistair’s rooms are on the fourth floor. Soooo,” he peeked at Alistair, a delighted smile on his face, “which room do you think we should give her?”
“Near Alice,” said Sophia at the same time Alistair answered, “Near me in the Empress Catherine Suite.”
“Ah-ah!” He smirked at Alistair. “The Queen Mary Suite, next to Alice. Elena is staying in the Czar Nicholas II on the same floor.” He smiled at her in the mirror, his green eyes gleamed like Alistair’s. “You will like the room, my dear. It’s all done in red and off-white damask with a seventeenth century four-poster bed. It has a very comfortable sitting area with views over the loch. From the bathroom, there are great views over the surrounding mountains. And” his smile broadened, which didn’t seem possible, “it’s at the end of the corridor, after Alice, Elena, and the children’s suites.”
I got you, Your Grace. Far from your son. And with barriers
. Lachlann’s pleasure with the situation was so blatant that Sophia felt it fill the car.
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” she concurred and wiggled her brows at Alistair, who scowled and crossed his strong arms over his chest, muttering something unintelligible that made Lachlann chuckle more.
Ardaneaskan, Loch Carron. Craigdale Castle
4.39 p.m.
Sophia sucked in a breath when they neared Craigdale Castle. She could only describe it as one of the loveliest and most romantic spots that she had ever seen. Surrounded by tall and broad walls, with its very own loch, it offered one of the most stunning Scottish panoramas.
“Mama, it is beautiful. And huge!” Gabriela, who had been awake and chattering with them for a while, was ecstatic.
“Yes, my angel. It’s more than beautiful. It’s… enchanting.”
Lachlann smiled, “I like that. Enchanting. Yes, Craigdale is enchanting.”
“Do you have fairies here?” Gabriela asked.
The old man smiled widely, “Yes, my dear. I’m going to show them to you. They come out at night and if we’re very quiet, they appear in the garden.”
The little girl clapped her hands, “Oh, I want to see them. I’ll keep quiet, I promise.”
Alistair smiled happily at Sophia as his father and Gabriela made plans for the evening.
Lachlann parked in front of the enormous double doors and immediately a liveried red-haired man came to open the Range Rover door as another took the keys from his hand.
Gabriela hopped on the ground craning her neck to study the high turrets and tugged at Sophia’s hand, “Look, Mama. They have towers.” She eyed Alistair. “Do you keep prisoners in them?”
He crouched by her side and wiggled his brows, “Only people who misbehave. Children included.”
“Oh,” the little girl breathed at the unexpected answer.
“Stop, Alistair Connor. You’re going to scare the girl,” Lachlann admonished.
“I don’t misbehave. I’m very polite and a good girl.” She wound her arms around Sophia’s leg. “Aren’t I, Mama?”
Sophia bent down and picked her up in her arms, “Yes, my love. You are. Just perfect.”
The little girl turned to Lachlann with a broad and confident smile, “See? I don’t need to fear the towers.”
“Indeed,” he nodded at her, smiling.
Alistair took Gabriela from Sophia’s arms, smiling, “Come on, little imp.” And he stretched his free hand to grip Sophia’s.
We look like a happy family
. He stopped for a second and looked around at his childhood home.
A happy family
. He scolded at the thought but it didn’t leave his mind.
They climbed the stairs and the double doors opened as if commanded by magic.
“I hope you find everything to your liking, my dear,” Lachlann said. “We place particular emphasis in matching the elegant surroundings and atmosphere of the hotel with a warm welcome and friendly, efficient service. In the evening, you will find a newsletter on your bed, informing you of the exercise classes, swimming, aqua aerobics classes, and outdoor activities offered by the hotel, should you wish to participate.”
“Father, Sophia is mine for the weekend. She is going nowhere without me.” Alistair stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m your private guide.”
Lachlann had a permanent grin stuck on his face. “The spa is a very attractive self-contained complex. We have a semi-Olympic pool, a leisure pool with loungers, a Jacuzzi, and an outdoor heated pool. There’s a gymnasium, an aerobics dance studio, steam baths, and saunas.” He beamed at her. “Feel free to use the beauty parlor also.”
“Thank you, Your Grace, but I don’t usually go to hairdressers. Although, I am sure I’ll love the massages.”
“No need for formality with me, my girl. Lachlann is fine. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends. I’ll leave you in Alistair Connor’s hands.” He patted her shoulder, smiled, and strolled to the desk in the corner of the hall to give some orders to a man dressed in a suit.
After tea, Alistair ushered Sophia and Gabriela through a quick tour and directed them to Sophia’s suite. Gabriela entered the room to explore it.
“As soon as you’re ready for dinner, come meet me in the Laird Library.” He looked at his watch. “Around eight thirty, I think. Do you remember where it is?”
“Sure. What are you going to do?”
“Workout a bit and swim. Then chat in the sauna with Leo. They should arrive in thirty minutes or so. I’ll stay with Gabriela in the game room waiting for them because Ariadne expressly stated that she wants to see her when she arrives.” His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush to his body and he warned her, his lips brushing hers, “Don’t you dare flaunt yourself in those skimpy bikinis when I’m not at your side.”
“I’m going to work out for half an hour. Then, I’m going to relax with the Thai treatment your father booked for me. I promise: no bikinis,” Sophia smiled mischievously at him, “today.”
8.18 p.m.
Sophia chose a navy column-like wool dress, with a tight bodice and long sleeves. Turquoise-and-coral jewelry adorned her ears and right wrist. Her marine belt had a silver clasp and her feet were encased in marine leather pumps. As she braided her hair, she looked in the mirror.
Sophia hated the insecurity that crept in, despite her best efforts to keep it at bay.
Am I doing the right thing? Gabriela is so involved with him already
. She shook her head trying to avoid the thoughts that had been nagging her since her conversation with Alistair the night before. She picked up her short coral Chanel jacket and put her iPhone in the inner pocket.
She left her suite and looked around. Furnishings throughout the castle were of the highest quality with rich fabrics, elegant furniture, and fine antiques. Sophia appreciated the caring and loving approach evident throughout. The perfect lighting illuminated the stairs and huge elaborate French tapestries, while a large number of paintings encased in golden frames were scattered throughout the five floors. From the light and airy hall to the deep ruby of the Red Drawing Room and from the magnificent dining room to the paneled Laird Library, Craigdale seemed far, far away from the real world.
She began to relax in the midst of all the beauty. She pushed the library doors and halted just on the threshold as she heard two male voices. She looked inside and located the source.
A Scottish accent, yes, but it isn’t Alistair
. Two tall men in an heated argument stood at the end of the library.
“How dare he bring one of his bloody whores here!” The tallest man thundered, “Worst of all, how did you allow it?”
“She’s not like the others. You’ll see. Alice-”
“Alice knows nothing. She’s too innocent. I know his type,” he sniggered.
“Excuse me,” Sophia said, in a low voice, not sure she should interrupt the argument.
The tallest man stepped forward, “This is a private part of-”
Lachlann put a hand on his arm and whispered, “It’s her.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” he stared down at Lachlann and back at Sophia, disbelief clearly showing on his face. “No way,” he shook his head, “No. Fucking. Way.”
“Yes, it’s her,” Lachlann reaffirmed in a murmur. And still looking at Sophia, scolded his son, “Language, Tavish Uilleam.”
Lachlann strolled to Sophia his arms stretched and grabbed her hands, “You look beautiful, my girl. Let me introduce you to my youngest son, Tavish Uilleam.”
Sophia craned her neck up and up and up to stare at a younger and more turbulent version of Alistair. A strange sensation chilled her. If possible, Tavish appeared even taller and more handsome than Alistair did. In front of her stood a man to be reckoned with. A force of nature. Uncontrollable.
“I’m Sophia,” she breathed, still astonished by him. She tentatively outstretched her hand as she noticed his contemptuous and slow survey of her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tavish.”
“Lieutenant-Colonel Doctor Lord Tavish Uilleam,” he corrected her, in a stern voice, his face grim. No smile, no outstretched hand. His held his stiff posture, his hands gripped at his back.
“Oh?” Sophia raised her brows and withdrew her hand, straightening as much as she could, never before so conscious of her average height. She dipped in a low, mocking bow, “Noted, my lord. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
She turned to Lachlann with a strained smile on her face. “Perhaps you know where Gabriela is?”
“I haven’t seen-”
“Who is Gabriela? A friend of yours?” Tavish harshly interrupted Lachlann, bristling with anger.
Why do you ask with such scorn?
Sophia looked over her shoulder and in an icy voice informed, “My daughter.” She lifted her chin higher.
What is your problem, Lieutenant-Colonel-Doctor-Lord-Arrogance? How dare you treat me like this
.
The scene stupefied Lachlann.
“Your daughter?” Tavish repeated, dumbfounded.
She slowly spun to look again at the turbulent sea-green eyes. “Yes, my three-year-old daughter. Gabriela Espírito Santo Leibowitz,” she informed him in a dry voice.
Tavish’s face showed his surprise at Gabriela’s name and he mused, “Surely, you are not the missing widow…”
“Yes, I’m Gabriel Leibowitz’s widow. Why? Is there a problem?” Her eyes narrowed at him. She waited for the next dig, not entirely comprehending Tavish’s behavior.
“Leonard told me you like to read, Sophia,” Lachlann interrupted, looking at Tavish with censure in his eyes. He relaxed when she whirled around to him, smiling.
“Oh, yes. I do. I love books.” Sophia looked around her, noticing the floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books. She did her best to avoid Tavish’s sharp gaze. “You have a beautiful library.”
“I am delighted to give you a tour. We have a few interesting originals here. Come and see.” Lachlann gripped her hand and towed her to one of the three locked cases in the middle of the room, opening the glass lid, “Originals by Shakespeare. My favorite is the prompt book of
The Tragedy of Macbeth
.”
Tavish interrupted, “I don’t know why you like it so much, Father. The story of King Macbeth as told by Shakespeare bears no relation to real events in Scottish history. The historical Macbeth was an admired monarch.”
Lachlann shrugged, sighed softly, and pointed at other books. “The first quarto edition of
Midsummer Night’s Dream
, published in 1600; the first quarto of
The Tragedy of Othello
, from 1622, and
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark
, the enlarged version of 1605; and, of course,” he turned to Sophia and smiled, “a Scottish original,
Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
by Robert Louis Stevenson, published in1886.”
Lachlann moved to another case and showed it to her. “These are my absolute favorites, all first editions:
Valerius Terminus
by Sir Francis Bacon.” And he motioned to the last five books, “
Leviathan
by Thomas Hobbes,
A Letter Concerning Toleration
by John Locke - the second and the third letters - and
The Theory of Moral Sentiments
by Sir Adam Smith.”
She gaped at him. “Oh, my,” she murmured, lowering her gaze to the books in the case. “All first editions? The originals?”
“Is there any other meaning to
original
?” Tavish asked from behind.
“Indeed, my lord, there is.” She bent her head backwards to stare at his green eyes. “I have read numerous works in their original, in several languages, meaning that I’ve read them in their original written language,” she boasted and then turned to look at the ancient book, still astonished. “But never such time-honored first editions. May I see the John Locke?” she asked Lachlann, who took the book reverentially from the velvet-lined case and put it in her hands. “I’ve always been interested in his ideas about peace and religious toleration in a civil society.”
“Locke was a demagogue,” Tavish continued, “he defended that all men were created equal but gave absolute power to the slave masters.”