Summer of the Moon Flower (The de Vargas Family)

by Seaton, Annie

  It was not difficult for Dougal to guess the tenor of the Leader’s thoughts for he made no effort to be amenable. Everything about him, from his posture to the set of his mouth, spoke of mistrust. Poor Edward appeared increasingly nervous as the minutes passed. The flames crackling in the fireplace was the only sound to be heard. The first words spoken by the Leader after they had partaken of refreshments in absolute silence confirmed Dougal’s suspicion.

  The Leader of the Five fixed Dougal with a steely glare.

  “Your father was not devoted to our quest.”

  The safest response was to plead ignorance.

  “My Lord, I had no knowledge of the quest until this evening. I have been inducted into the petitions of the lodge and am learning more about the charters each day,” replied Dougal with his head bowed in an attempt to appear compliant. When he finished speaking he lifted his gaze to meet the hawk-like stare of the older man.

  The old man nodded, before turning to the younger man.

  “Edward of Kilmarnock, I will allow you to accompany the earl as I know you to be loyal to our quest.” Dougal almost choked on his ale; by implication the Leader was telling him that he was not fully trusted.

  The old man stared into space and spoke in a deep sonorous tone. “Four hundred and two score years ago…”

  For thirty minutes, he regaled them with the history of the Knights and their quest for immortality through deeds. He explained each of the forty-five charters in great detail and by the time he reached the description of the Unutterable Degree, Dougal’s eyes were heavy and he stifled a yawn.

  Suddenly, the Leader brought his goblet to the table with a loud crash as his voice rose. “I will not let that woman in Vienna destroy the work of four centuries.”

  He turned to Dougal and his voice was hard and cold as he questioned him about the events in Vienna.

  “Are you certain, you were not able to see who was awaiting the delivery at the station?”

  Dougal held the dark gaze as he lied.

  “No, my Lord. It was dark and the observer took flight as soon as they escaped the clutches of the automatons.”

  “Could it have been a woman?” the old man asked tersely.

  “I do not think so, my Lord. “The strength required to pull away from the mechanicals would surpass that of a woman.”

  “So be it.” The old man stood and pushed his chair behind him and his manservant ran across the room to assist him but took a step back when the Leader shook his head. “Now, it has come to my attention that the research in Vienna is close to completion and that will threaten our entire existence.

  The lieutenant sitting across the table from Dougal raised his hand. “My Lord, may I speak?”

  The Leader nodded.

  “What about the sister in Cornwall, is she also a part of this research in Vienna? It is of concern as her husband is now in the employ of Queen Victoria.”

  A peculiar smile spread across the face of the Leader and Dougal shivered. Evil emanated from the old man as he smiled at the three men at the table

  “He is no longer in the employ of Queen Victoria.”

  The lieutenant looked confused. “I beg to differ, my Lord. It is only three days ago since we fed the information about the cargo to Lord Lorca and ensured Captain Thoreau would receive it as Sheriff of Cornwall?”

  “Oh…” replied their Leader. “ Captain Thoreau is still the Sheriff, however he is no longer in the employ of the Queen.”

  He looked across at them as a satisfied smile lifted his pallid lips and his dark eyes gleamed.

  “You may not have heard the sad news from England. Queen Victoria died earlier to-day. I believe she was poisoned.”

  Once the shock of his announcement passed, Dougal’s mind worked furiously.

  You evil bastard…you are obviously behind it. You are a much greater player than I gave you credit for. Edward and I will have to be on our guard. I need to know more.

  He bowed to the Leader.

  “My Lord, may I seek further information? If I am to achieve our quest—” he turned to Edward and inclined his head, “—the Earl of Kilmarnock and I shall need to know more detail of the two sisters and how their work is threatening the Knights?”

  For a moment, Dougal thought his question was to be ignored.

  After a lengthy silence the old man spoke. “Very well.”

  He looked to his manservant and the man assisted him back to his chair.

  “Many years ago, one of Queen Victoria’s leading botanical scientists was financed by the realm to undertake research around the globe to discover the healing properties of plants which would enhance the health of her majesty’s subjects.”

  He paused and took a sip of his ale.

  “Unfortunately, Professor de Vargas was a little too successful and discovered a plant high above the snows in the Austrian Alps with properties that—shall we say—conflicted with our spiritual goals.”

  He smiled coldly, his bloodless lips set in a thin line. “Professor de Vargas unfortunately met with an untimely end in the Amazon jungle about twenty years ago.” He raised his brows and his smile grew. “I believe he was killed by bandits.”

  I’m sure there is more to it than that, Dougal thought.

  “The professor had two daughters. Indigo de Vargas y Irausquínno, the elder daughter is married to the Sherriff of Cornwall, Captain Thoreau She traveled with her father to the Amazon and after his death she continued his research into the passionflower. It is of no consequence and is used merely for its medicinal properties.”

  He frowned and looked from Dougal to Edward. “The second daughter by a later marriage, Sofia de Vargas, is a couturier of note in Vienna.”

  “Captain Thoreau and his wife have a holiday complex in Cornwall where research is also carried out, and they have four children. The cosmecuticals she plays around with are merely a product for vanity and pose no threat to us. We have a loyal, if foolish, member, Duke Lorca of Cornwall, who keeps us informed of the doings of Madam Thoreau.” He paused and took a long draught from his goblet, before turning to the men listening to him. “She is of little concern to us. However, we have received intelligence that the de Vargas sister in Vienna is close to succeeding in the research she leads. Ten years ago, we were advised she had retrieved her father’s notes and we have observed her activities closely since that time.”

  Dougal watched with fascination as two bright red spots flared on the papery cheeks of the Grand Master contrasting with the his pale face and white robes. The older man placed his goblet on the table with a resounding thud.

  “And you know what that will mean for us.”

  He turned to the automatons. “That fool, Lorca played right into our hands by sharing the information we fed him. The imbecile almost broke his skinny little legs in his enthusiasm to help our cause. He has a vendetta against Madam Thoreau and the Sheriff.”

  Dougal interrupted. “But with all respect, my Lord, there is no evidence it was Madam de Vargas at the station?”

  The Leader glared back at Dougal and his voice shook as he replied.

  “It was her at the station…it had to be. Now we just need you to destroy their laboratory and all research notes and kill Sofia de Vargas. It is but a simple task for you and the Earl of Kilmarnock which will prove your allegiance to the order and assist you to begin your spiritual growth.”

  The Earl of Kilmarnock raised his hand tentatively. In a trembling voice, he asked naively.

  “My Lord… if…if we take the life of another…will that not condemn us to hell and end our spiritual growth?”

  The Leader looked across at the red-faced young man and smiled. “Our spiritual growth culminates in immortality and if it is necessary to kill to preserve our order, it will move you through the petitions even more quickly, my son.”

  He stood and gestured to his manservant before turning back to the two young men.

  “We will not allow non-believers access to our quest for im
mortality. Dabbling in the physical sciences is sinful. It will end our quest and it will end our lives.” He moved across and stood between Dougal and Edward. “Can I trust you, gentlemen, to undertake this task?”

  Dougal and Edward stood and bowed to their Leader.

  They both replied. “Yes, my Lord.”

  Chapter 4

  A soft tap at the door of her boudoir informed Sofia the first clients for the day had arrived and were waiting downstairs in her salon. She twisted the final silver ringlet with her hair steamer and it fell gently to the shoulder of her tunic. Glancing in the mirror, she frowned at her reflection. Her silver white curls accentuated the pallor of her cheeks and she reached for her pot of rouge. She was a little heavier-handed than was her norm and applied more color to her cheeks.

  A week had passed since the incident at the railway station, the cargo being safely delivered to the flower stalls in the Naschmarkt as had been arranged. Johann had strolled past the markets situated on the roof of the Wienfluss and purchased his usual bouquet from the stallholder on his way to the University. The cargo for the laboratory was secreted in the bouquet amongst the white tulips, bellflowers, and snowdrops. Once the shipment had arrived at the laboratory, Sofia and the professor had spent the past few nights deliberating on her plan to visit the Alps.

  Ernst had shaken his head. “It was only one instance, Sofia, and it was obviously a trap. However, I believe we should continue with the train and the flower market for the delivery of the flowers.

  “No. I believe it is fraught with danger. We are too close to success to risk both losing the cargo and being discovered. It is time to sit quietly and bide our time.”

  “Johann and—”

  Sofia cut him off. “Ernst, it is decided. I have deposited the funds for Johann and Genevieve to embark on their trip. I expect you will keep writing up your research. She looked at him intently. “It is imperative you take care of things at the University.”

  “And what about you?” he asked, his beetling eyebrows almost meeting as he frowned at her.

  “What about me?” She laughed. “Madam Sofia de Vargas has a spring showing in her salon to organize. She has three dirigibles arriving from the colonies over the next week full of New York mamas and their eligible daughters to outfit for the upcoming season. I shall continue to be a doyenne of European society. When the show is finished, I will travel to Cornwall to visit my sister and collect my two scallywag nephews and take them on a wonderful holiday, skiing in the Austrian Alps.

  As the Professor opened his mouth to argue, Sofia stood and raised her hand

  “Enough, Ernst.” She kept her voice firm.”We have worked for this outcome for almost ten years and we will wait until we are sure our research is not in jeopardy. One month of rest will not hurt.”

  The professor had been unhappy with her decree and she had not heard from him for several days.

  Another soft tap on her door broke into Sofia’s’ reverie.

  “Enter.”

  Madam Lucienne de Voisy, the elegant salon manager stood in the doorway.

  “Madame, the dirigible has docked and the ladies have disembarked and are currently taking refreshment in the lounge. They will be ready for you in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you, Lucienne, I am coming now.” Sofia stood and smoothed down her close fitting silver tunic.

  Following the taller woman into the narrow perambulator at the end of the hall, Sofia lightly touched the descent cog, and there was a quiet whoosh of steam as the machine slid noiselessly to the ground floor. As they descended, Sofia smiled at the memory of her introduction to the perambulator in Indigo’s ancient manor in Cornwall. The workings of that machine were so archaic, it was necessary to wear earmuffs to block the noise of the hissing steam and the clunking cogs.

  Stepping out of the perambulator, Sofia walked to the doorway of the Salon de Sofia and paused, taking in the scene before her. As always she took a great deal of pleasure in looking around the business; she had established the salon from her humble beginnings as a seamstress when she had moved to Vienna, after attending Indigo’s wedding in Cornwall just before her own twentieth birthday.

  The greeting salon was simple and understated in its decor. Sofia’s signature color—silver—was evident in the furnishings and the walls were draped with soft gray silk. The morning sunlight streamed through the long narrow windows at the eastern end of the long room and refracted from the crystals hanging from the ceiling. The rainbows provided the only color in the room. Two waiters with silver trays of champagne in crystal goblets circulated among the excited clients.

  Watching the dozen or so women chatter and laugh as they indulged in elegant pattiseries washed down with the finest of French champagne, Sofia knew this group would be easy to work with.

  I hope so. There is much to plan before the day is out.

  She caught Lucienne’s eye and the salon manager clapped her hands as Sofia stepped into the room.

  “Attention, Mesdames and Mademoiselles.” The women fell silent as Lucienne introduced Madam de Vargas, and Sofia smiled at them in welcome.

  “Welcome to my salon. I trust you had a pleasant journey in my dirigible?” Sofia spread her arms wide in welcome. “As you can see we have the latest in exquisite fabrics and accoutrements to prepare you for the upcoming season in New York.”

  Five assistants entered the room as she spoke, each carrying either a bolt of cloth or a box of adornments. Sofia reached for a bolt of silk, holding it high as it slipped sinuously to the ground, the sunlight catching the rainbow colors of the fabric. She smiled with satisfaction at the many oohs and aahs from the assembled women.

  She had paid a small fortune for that bolt of fabric from Turkey, and it was the most expensive item in her salon. As she lightly clapped her hands, another six assistant couturiers dressed in silver tunics stepped from the cubicles on each side of the salon and Lucienne introduced each client to their own personal assistant. Sofia would spend time with each group to ensure they had the attention of the couturier herself to meet their needs.

  Lucienne lightly touched Sofia’s arm and drew her aside as the women sat with their advisers. “Sofia, are you able to have a personal appointment this afternoon? A messenger has arrived from the Earl of Rothmore. He is in Vienna with his wife and they depart tomorrow. He begs your forgiveness for the short notice and has asked for an appointment for late this afternoon.”

  “The Earl of Rothmore?” Sofia frowned and tried to remember the name. “Has his wife been here before?”

  “His message seemed to indicate his wife has been here before. Perhaps before they married?” Lucienne replied.

  “No matter.” Sofia walked to the back of the room and slipped behind the velvet curtain, smiling to herself as she heard a young lady beseech her mother.

  “Oh, Mama, I must have the rainbow silk.”

  Tapping the alphabet keys in front of the analytical engine, she searched for Rothmore in her customer list. Her memory was excellent, and she had no recall of that name and her records confirmed this.

  “It is all right, Lucienne. I shall see the earl and his lady at four this afternoon.”

  “Very well, Madame. I shall send a messenger.”

  Sofia returned to her clients and was kept busy as many orders were placed. Salon de Vargas was becoming known across the globe and providing the dirigible service to the colonies had resulted in a tenfold increase in the number of clients who visited and spent their money each season. She smiled to herself. There would be no problem funding the upcoming trip to the Alps to collect the next shipment for the university.

  * * * *

  Dougal leaned forward in his seat and lifted the hood from his wife’s head and shoulders. The hum of the dirigible covered the sound as the hood folded down from the side of the airship and he secured the straps to the hooks on the wall. He smiled at the automaton and patted her hand gently. “I will wake you when we arrive, my dear.”

  Da
wn was breaking, and Edward pointed to the ground as fingers of sunlight dappled the treetops of the forest below. They had left the English Channel behind and were moving swiftly over the French countryside as they made good time to their destination.

  “Have you had a reply from the messenger?” asked Edward.

  “Yes,” Dougal smiled. “Sweet Celestine and I have an appointment at four o’clock.” Dougal pointed to the quiet woman staring vacantly at the side of the dirigible.

  Edward reached over and flicked a lever on the control panel of the steam-powered air ship. “We had better make haste, then.”

  Dougal looked at the young man and decided to broach the subject that had been at the forefront of his mind since the meeting at Castle Dean. Their conversations to date had concerned their journey and collecting Dougal’s ‘wife’. Edward, surprisingly, was familiar with the steam propulsion system of this airship and explained to Dougal he had spent some time in France learning the intricacies of steam-powered travel.

  “Edward, may we speak?” The younger man looked up eagerly.

  “Don’t worry, Dougal, we shall arrive in Vienna before noon.”

  Dougal waved his hand dismissively.

  “Oh, I have no fear of that Dougal. I need to have a conversation with you regarding the purpose of our visit.”

  The young man’s eyes widened and Dougal watched with interest, as Edward swallowed nervously and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. The younger man adjusted the large cog on the side of the control panel and secured it with a brass chain, before turning to Dougal.

  “There. Our course is set.”

  Dougal leaned back in his set and steepled his fingers, looking at Edward and he realized the life of this eager young man was in his hands.

  “Edward, tell me about your vows.”

  “Well… I understand that I have committed to this task and my vows will ensure my loyalty to you and the completion of the task,” he replied. The young man’s reply was cryptic and Dougal sensed he was not being completely honest.

  “And your thoughts on the termination of Madam de Vargas?”Edward held Dougal’s gaze silently for a full minute, the only sound to be heard was the gentle whooshing of the steam from the cylinders and the soft rushing of the air past the side of the airship.