“I suggest a press conference, tomorrow at lunch time. That way I’ll have time to call those I think are most malleable and block the worst scum,” Ashley lifted her eyes waiting for Sophia’s agreement.
Sophia searched Alistair’s strength.
He tightened his arms around her. “I’m here to support your decision even though I think a press conference should be held.”
Oh, damn. Here it comes again. “Tomorrow, midday then. Ash, limit the number to ten journalists-” Ashley shook her head. “Twenty then. One question each. After that I’ll spend a month in an abbey in confinement.”
“Airgead,” suggested Alistair. “I can work from the Inverness office if needed.”
Home. She nodded, “Airgead, it is then.”
“So, let’s prepare ourselves for tomorrow,” said Ashley in her business like way.
“Wait!” Alistair interjected. “I have an idea. If it works, the press conference will be much easier to handle.”
London, Chelsea, Fulham Road.
Chelsea and Westminster Hospital.
Thursday, June 3rd, 2010.
4.58 p.m.
The flashes and the excited voices swarmed Emma as she exited the hospital.
A microphone was thrown in her face by a thin man. “Ms. Miller, Ms. Miller! Why did you stab Mrs. Leibowitz?”
“Ms. Miller, were you jealous of your brother-in-law? What kind of relationship do you have?” That came from a woman in black.
Emma smiled softly and raised her hands. “Ladies, Gentlemen. As Mrs. Leibowitz and Lord Ells have already explained it was all a big misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” Another journalist snorted. “That was your blade in Mrs. Leibowitz’s stomach. Did you try to kill her?”
Emma made a horrified face. “How could you think that? Dear Sophia tripped and fell on some broken glass. She cut herself. I was just trying to help take away the shards. But I slipped on some water on the floor and I fell. Unfortunately, it all happened so quick that the blade flew from my hand. I tried to balance myself, but hit my head on the vase. Seems we were both unlucky.”
“Do you honestly expect us to believe that, Ms. Miller?” asked the thin man.
Emma shrugged. “You can believe what you want. My brother-in-law was here this morning again. He visited me for a whole hour. You can check the register, if you want. Do you think if I had tried to kill his fiancée, he would have visited me? And poor Sophia, she is a well known lawyer. Do you think she wouldn’t have pressed charges if I had tried to kill her?”
“So Ms. Miller, what you’re saying is that you and Lord Ells are still good friends?”
The ironic tone of the question wasn’t missed by Emma. “Good friends? No. Alistair, Lord Ells, I mean, he was married to my sister for many years and, during that time, we were friends. Now, we’re acquaintances who wish each other well. That’s it. Ladies, gentlemen, I must go. I’m still recovering from my fall and that dramatic evening.” She raised her hand stopping any more questions. “I thank you, but I really must go.”
She crossed the street and entered the black car that was waiting for her near the curb. She closed the door and turned to the young man inside, “How was that, honey?”
“I didn’t know you were such an accomplished actress, my dear,” he gave her a peck on the lips.
“Money works miracles, my dear. It works miracles.” Emma smiled at him. “And now I have Alistair at my beck and call, I will keep it coming.”
Airgead Caisteal.
Saturday, June 5th, 2010.
4.05 p.m.
They followed the kids to the center of the biggest maze Sophia had ever seen.
“You sit here and rest,” Alistair pointed to the bench in the center.
If she could, she would have bowed. Instead, she waved her hand in the air with a flourish and mocked, “Yes, sire. Any other orders?”
Alistair didn’t smile, though. “I’m not kidding, Sophia. How can I go play with the kids if I have to keep an eye on you?”
“Relax,” Tavish put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of her.”
Tavish sat next to Sophia as Alistair and Alice took Gabriela, Ariadne and Michael to play hide and seek. His mind filled with images of Alistair and him playing warriors there as children. Two happy and innocent boys, that couldn’t have imagined what life had in store for them.
Tavish observed his brother as he picked Gabriela up in his arms and threw her up in the air. He didn’t want to think what would have happened to his brother if Sophia and Gabriela hadn’t appeared in Alistair’s life. He had been in danger of becoming too jaded as he tasted every sin, drowned himself in every sensation.
Tavish leaned back, crossed his hands behind his head and stretched his long legs. He looked at the woman responsible for the remarkable changes in his brother and concern made him ask, “Have you had any more flashbacks?”
When she turned to look at him, she had an uneasy look on her face.
“I- I don’t know...” She hesitated. Talking about her amnesia was awkward and hurtful. It made her remember how broken she was. “I- Nothing like the one at Ells Hall. I’ve talked with Felipe, my brother, and with my grandmother. I don’t know if it could be called a flashback, but... a few things they’ve told me helped me remember facts that were fuzzy in mind.”
He shifted on the seat to look at her. “Amnesia is not easy to deal with.”
“Understatement of the year, Tavish Uilleam,” she put a hand on his forearm. “It’s horrible not to know things I should. It leaves me with a... helpless, fragile sensation. I’m not so sure of myself anymore.”
His warm hand covered hers and with a grimace he said, “I know.”
Sophia had had enough time and information from Alistair and Alice to realize that Tavish had also been through many dramatic, traumatic events. “You know what? In a way, I look at you and I see myself,” she told him.
Tavish stared at her for a long time.
“Some things weren’t supposed to happen,” he finally said, his voice gruff as the heavy weight that darkened his soul. He shook his head to send away the bad memories of those dark days. “You looked well on TV and in the newspapers. How did you do it, Sophia? They were there, wanting blood and in the end you had them wagging their tails at you.”
Sophia’s laugh ended in a gasp. She put a hand on her stomach. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, contrite. “I forgot...”
“No. Don’t be,” she answered with a smile on her face. “It’s good to laugh.”
Tavish tilted his head to the side, “From your behavior so far, no one would guess you had been through all that.”
“There’s no point in whining and complaining. I don’t have much patience for self-pity. And I find it immensely boring to be fussed over all the time.”
Tavish was eyeing her intently with a strange look in his face.
What?
He shifted on the seat and his eyes roamed over the maze. “Alistair Connor told me you aren’t pressing charges. Do you really think it’s wise?”
Sophia took a long time to answer. “No. I don’t think it’s wise. Not at all. However... I don’t want to draw more attention to myself. Yeah, she deserves punishment, but... Can you imagine what she would say about, uh, Alistair’s relationship with...” she made a vague gesture with her hand. Shut up, Sophia. You don’t know if he knows.
“With?” Tavish put a leg on the bench, facing her. When she thinned her lips, he said gently, “Alistair Connor’s relationship with the two sisters?”
Dammit! She exhaled a loud breath of air and closed her eyes. “Is it common knowledge?”
“Nae. But I knew,” he answered. “So, you are protecting Alistair Connor.”
“And myself, and Gabriela and the future of our relationship. I was shocked when she told me he-” She opened her eyes and raised her eyebrows high. “Can you imagine the scandal?”
/>
Tavish nodded, “Indeed. Looking at it that way...”
“Tavish Uilleam?” She bit her lip and lowered her lashes. Should I ask? Well, he’s a doctor. But, Sophia, he will guess...
“Sophia, you can ask me whatever you want,” he said and waited patiently.
Oh. Dammit. “Have you heard about a STD called Mycoplasma genitalium?”
He frowned, “Yes. Why?”
“Is it true... that it can cause sterility?”
“Human reproduction... or gynecology were never my speciality, but...” he studied her blushing face, intrigued.
Oh. God. He thinks the problem is mine. She didn’t correct him.
“What I have heard recently is that it is often quite difficult to diagnose because it usually occurs in conjunction with other infections, but it can easily be treated with antibiotics.” He didn’t know what to make of her question. Sophia didn’t look like a promiscuous woman. “Well, to answer you, if Mycoplasma genitalium is left untreated, it may cause infertility, yes.”
Sophia’s previous happiness deflected, “Oh... And is there any-”
“Mama, Mama.” Gabriela arrived running, interrupting them. “Mama, Alistair told me there’re daffodils near the loch. Can we go there?”
Alice and Sophia followed Tavish and Alistair out of the maze and down toward the loch through a lane lined with tall, old sequoias. The girls ran ahead together, shrieking at Michael that he was a rotten egg.
She turned to Alice, “The estate is enormous.”
“Yes, it is. And it’s very costly to maintain. That’s why they are all resorts. We’re building airstrips and helipads at each one to make them more accessible.”
They talked about inane things until they reached an open lawn.
Sophia stopped short with her mouth agape.
To their left were the famous Airgead gardens. They covered sixteen acres of formal lawns and flowerbeds, in vibrant yellows, oranges and reds along with Conifers and fine specimens such as Sequoiadendron Wellingtonia, Cryptomeria Japonica and others, backed by an extensive woodland and forested mountains. On the other side, the castle gleamed under the sun with the Craigdale coat of arms flag on the top of the roof waving at them and in front of them the loch beckoned with its calm waters.
“This is...” Sophia had no words to describe the amazing view.
Alice smiled. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Otherworldly. This is where I want to get married. In an impulse, Sophia turned to Alice and taking her hand, asked, “Alice, you have received me with opened arms into your family and in your home. Would you help me with the wedding?”
“Oh, Sophia! I’d be delighted. Delighted,” Alice’s smile was emotional as she hugged Sophia. “We’re so happy that Alistair Connor has found you.”
“The traditions here are so different from Brazil. I went crazy with all those princes and peers on Alistair’s and your father’s guest lists. There are so many things to do and... I’m lost. I won’t be able to do it all alone. And Alistair is not very forthcoming with help.”
“You can count on me. For anything.”
They smiled at each other and followed the men down to the loch, chatting and laughing about Sophia’s inventive ideas for the wedding.
Chapter 32
Ethan Ashford’s Penthouse.
Friday, July 2nd, 2010.
3.07 p.m.
“I’ve never seen him so depressed. He’s thinner. And unshaved. What’s happening Scott?” Barbara’s leg was jerking up and down nervously as she sat in Scott’s office on the first floor of Ethan’s penthouse. “Do you think it’s something I’ve done?”
“Oh. Don’t flatter yourself, my dear. The problem is this. Or rather, her.” Scott handed her the biggest of the cream envelopes that were under a glass weight on his desk. “He has been like this since this arrived yesterday morning.”
“What is it?” Barbara took out a beautiful invitation from the envelope. A watercolor painting depicted the Craigdale coat of arms over the imposing entrance to Airgead flanked by sequoias and flowery shrubs. At the bottom of the card there was a stylized monogram with the letters S and AC . She opened the heavy card. “Ah... I see. Is he going?” she asked handing back the envelope and card to Scott.
“Of course. To all the events,” he tapped on the envelopes.
She raised her eyebrows and picked them up. She whistled. “Five parties in a row! I’ve never seen such beautiful invitations! All hand-made. Am I going?”
Scott crossed his arms and smirked at her, “Yes. And no! You are accompanying him but no, you aren’t going to the parties. But don’t you worry, my dear, he has already asked me to buy you a consolation prize.”
“A consolation prize! I bet he is buying her something memorable. This is so unfair,” she huffed. “You could help me with him, Scott. Praise me to him.”
“Mr. Ashford may seem frivolous and selfish. Sometimes, he is scary and insufferable, I know.” He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. “But let me tell you one thing, Sophia. I thank God every day for having met him. He has been my fairy godfather. He knows how to value the people that serve him well. Do you remember that loan you asked him?” Scott opened a drawer and took out an envelope. “He is planning to give you the promissory note you signed as a birthday present. Plus the other present for accompanying him to Scotland for a week. Don’t be an idiot, Sophia. You have a treasure in your hands.”
Barbara blinked at Scott’s fierce defense. “Bu-but, Scott-”
“Don’t but me. Think. Use your brain! He loves that woman. Say a word against her and you are fired. Don’t you think that I am shocked by his ways sometimes? Oh, yes. However, my dear, this is real life. I have a sick mother and younger siblings to raise. Understand Mr. Ashford’s ways. Learn how to manage him.” Scott leaned back, fixing Barbara with his eyes, and twirled his Montblanc in his fingers. A wry smile appeared on his thin face when he finished, “Use him as he is using you.”
Essex, Saffron Walden. Galewick Hall.
Saturday, July 31st, 2010.
8.03 a.m.
Running his fingers through her long hair, Alistair sat on the bed and looked down at her. She was sleeping on her side, breathing softly. Her cheeks were pink from the warm air that was coming in through the open window. The bed covers were deliciously rumpled, smelling of vanilla. He spooned her and wrapped his arms around her body. In less than a week, you’ll be mine forever, you neurotic, domineering bride.
If Alistair thought himself a perfectionist, Sophia was obsessive.
If she thought him a tyrant, she was every inch the despot.
She’d asked for advice from her siblings, her grandmother, Alice and Domitila, had hired an army of people and, just like a maestrina, she conducted them all, supervising every little detail.
She chaired the wedding meetings as if she were dealing with a business transaction, with smoothness and an iron will. She decided on every color, taste, gift; she made sure she knew every person that was going to be invited, where they were going to be housed, what were their preferences and idiosyncrasies. Each room had been planned for its guests’ particularities with a personalized gift.
The wedding teams at Craigdale Castle, Airgead Caisteal and Dryad Manor were in love with her ideas and creativity.
Alistair could not say the same, though.
She had wanted his opinion on the cake, the favors, the menus, the seating plans, and things he had never imagined could exist. Every time he complained, his father and Leonard teased him that he should have married in Las Vegas.
When Alexander and Tavish also started to pester him, he cursed them with the same fate. Alexander shuddered, made the sign of the cross and never again teased him. Tavish had just smiled and said that if he wanted to change places he would oblige, and almost got punched in the eye.
And still I love this crazy woman just as she is. He chuckled happily. Soon you’ll be telling me what I can or can’t do.
“Wh
at?” she asked lazily, stretching against his warmth, as the rumble of his joy woke her up.
“You. If I’d had the faintest idea what I was creating when I gave you such a short deadline for marrying me, I would have eloped.”
“Hmm?”
“My own private paranoid, obsessive-compulsive Nessie,” Alistair squeezed her in his arms.
“A monster? Me? Ah! You shouldn’t have!” She turned to look at him. “What about you? You are an insensitive, obnoxious, overbearing, stubborn troglodyte, Lord Ells. It would have been easier to have done something small, just for the family or postponed the wedding till next year. But, you,” she poked in his chest, “you wanted to marry quickly and in style. I had to do everything alone.”
“Hey! Not totally alone. When I wasn’t making love to you, you were driving me crazy with unnecessary details,” he kissed her lips, as deep contentment filled his soul. “We really should have eloped.”
She laughed and jumped out of the bed. Sauntering happily to the bathroom, she retorted, “We should have. Too late now, Handsome.”
He smiled wickedly, stretching his arms above his head, waiting for her reaction to what he left on the sink. He licked his lips. My wedding gift.
Sophia looked at her body in the mirror. Her fingers ran over the small scar on her belly and stopped short when she noticed a small white toiletries bag leaning on the mirror. Propped on it, was an envelope with a message in Alistair’s handwriting.
Sweetheart,
If you feel like trying, I’d love to be your teacher.
Alistair Connor
What the hell? She opened the envelope and took out a sheet of paper. Her mouth fell open as she read the directions on how to use the contents of the bag. She could hear his husky voice whispering them in her ear and anticipation made desire pool between her thighs.
Well, well, well. She looked at her flaming cheeks in the mirror and raised her eyebrows at herself. So, Sophia, what is it going to be?
Alistair suppressed a feral grin when many minutes later Sophia emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a bath robe with wide eyes and a telltale flush in her face.
Trust: Betrayed Page 50
