Shades of Trust

by Cristiane Serruya

  “Neither death was Alistair’s fault, of course. But Tavish Uilleam thinks differently.”

  “It’s quite presumptuous of him to judge his own brother like that.”

  “Sophia, Alistair Connor’s life was—”

  Sophia raised a hand interrupting her. “Alice, I’d rather hear this from Alistair himself. And where was your mighty brother, Lieutenant-Colonel Doctor Lord Tavish Uilleam, when Nathalie and your mother died?”

  Alice shifted on her seat, arranged the pleats of her long skirt, and watched her warily. “Please, Sophia, this stays between us, okay?”

  “Yeah. Of course.” What could be so bad?

  “He was in London.” Alice fidgeted in the armchair and looked down at her hands. “In a psychiatric clinic, recovering from being a prisoner of war.”

  The air was suddenly too heavy in the room.

  Sophia asked in a whisper, “Captured?”

  “The Taliban captured him in 2008. And he escaped, or was rescued—or both together—only a few days before Christmas. Nathalie died in January but—” Alice’s voice broke and a tear roll down her face. “Tavish Uilleam almost died himself. From a gunshot wound. And he was…psychologically incapacitated for a while. And—”

  “You don’t have to tell me more,” Sophia murmured, putting her hand over Alice’s. “I forgive him.”

  Relieved, Alice slumped in the armchair. “Thank you, Sophia. You don’t know what it means to my father. He was looking forward to this weekend.”

  So was I. And it is not Lord Arrogant who will spoil my weekend. “Don’t you worry Alice.” Sophia pasted a smile on her face and rose from the armchair. “Why don’t we join the other in the library then?”

  Chapter 10

  Saturday, March 6, 2010

  10:41 a.m.

  Sophia opened the door of her suite after the impatient third knock just to melted at the sight of Alistair impatiently hitting his brown leather crop against his shiny brown leather boots.

  Dressed in a brown-and-red tweed hacking jacket with dark brown velvet lapels over a flannel white shirt and butterscotch breeches with leather patches on the inner sides of his knees, he looked hot and immediately naughty thoughts filled Sophia’s mind.

  Oh, my! How do I ensnare this god? “Come in.” She breathed deeply and stepped back to let him into the anteroom. Incapable of holding back, she blurted, “You look so handsome,” and threw her arms around his neck dragging him down for a kiss. Why are you always so dumb around handsome men?

  “Thanks.” He smiled smugly when she broke the kiss. He looked her over, and frowned when he reached her feet. “Why are you still in socks?”

  “Alistair, I don’t have the right clothes,” she motioned from his gear to her black, studded, leather jacket over a white turtleneck sweater and black faded jeans.

  “You’re stalling.” Alistair dragged Sophia by the hand to an armchair. “Sit. Where are your sneakers?”

  “Alistair, stop it.” She smiled amused. “I can dress myself.”

  “Stay put,” he ordered. “Don’t move from that chair.”

  “Aye, sir,” she mumbled when he went into the dressing room.

  “Everyone is waiting for us.” His voice came from inside the room, muffled. “Father has even brought the horses to the front door. And two pairs of boots for you to try on.”

  “Really?” she smiled when he emerged from the closet, bringing her black LV monogram sneakers and a red patterned shahtoosh.

  “Here. Put these on. It’s cold outside. And it doesn’t matter that you’re wearing jeans or that you don’t have the right clothes. I want to go riding with you.” And I will.

  “Humpf,” she complained, lacing her sneakers. “This isn’t right.”

  He hit the arm of the armchair hard with his crop, startling Sophia, who craned her head to look up at him.

  “Maybe it’s not right, but it’s what I want.” He smiled and dropped onto his haunches to stare into her eyes. “And what I want, I get.”

  The sound of the crop hitting the armchair rhythmically rang out in the room.

  Hello, Lord big-ego-Julius-Caesar! “Should I bow, say amen, or something similar, my Lord Ells?” she mocked, scooting to the edge of the armchair, caging him between her thighs.

  “Aye, it’s better if you start learn—”

  Oh, please. She grabbed him by the velvet lapels and pulled him for an open-mouthed, scorching kiss.

  He fell to his knees and his arms went around her, hauling her flush to his body, the shahtoosh, and his crop dropping from his hands behind her.

  He was breathing heavily when she stopped the kiss.

  She shoved the armchair back and jumped off it with an agile movement.

  “Dream on, my lord,” she sang, and ran away from him, waving, “Dream on!”

  Alistair watched dumbfounded as Sophia flew through the door, leaving him kneeling in the room. He picked up the fallen items and looked at them, daftly.

  Unbidden, a smile spread on his lips and his sun shone brighter than it had in many months.

  3:22 p.m.

  Sophia pushed open the doors to the pool lounge and looked around, searching for Alistair or Alice but there was no one. She entered the artfully decorated room. Palm trees in earthenware pots were placed around the high-ceilinged room. The remoteness of the place appealed to her.

  She took off her gold and diamond H. Stern Havaianas and lay down on the reclining chair, and switched on her Kindle. With the soft music playing in the background, she became engrossed in the story and didn’t notice the door open and close, or the approaching steps.

  Tavish cleared his throat, disgusted by the woman in her small bikini and barely there styled transparent jacket lying on the chair.

  Looking up, Sophia viewed two strong legs wearing long Vilebrequin shorts in a Bengal tiger print. A blue linen long-sleeved opened shirt showed off a spectacular torso with sculptured abs, broad chest, and wide shoulders. Hot.

  She lifted her gaze and became acutely conscious of Tavish’s turbulent stare taking in her Adriana Degreas bikini and how his brows were lifted with scorn. Oh, please, spare me. I’m not in the mood for a bullying, rugged giant right now.

  “There’s a shop upstairs that sells clothes and bathing suits,” he snorted.

  My bikini is just fine, Lord Bully. You should see the real skimpy Brazilian bikinis. Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward, but didn’t utter a word and turned back to her Kindle.

  “So, what’s your plan? This feigned naïve behavior doesn’t fool me. No innocent young woman would hang around Alistair.”

  What? Why not? She raised her brows at him and lifted her Kindle to avoid his stare, giving him the cold shoulder.

  “Oh, nae,” he said, walking to her side. “Ye won’t dismiss me as if you dinna understand a word of what I’ve just said. I won’t be dismissed by someone like ye.”

  And he sat by her thigh.

  Such a bold move startled Sophia. She snapped her Jimmy Choo Kindle cover shut and put it on the table with a grim look on her face. She rose from her lounge chair, spine stiff, asking, “Someone like me?”

  He stood up carefully and circled the reclining chair. As he walked toward her, attempting to maintain a nonchalant pose, Sophia noticed his slight limp.

  Pity filled her heart, but she stuffed it deep down in her irritation.

  “Why are ye here?” Tavish hissed at her. “Aren’t ye like the others?”

  “What cryptic questions, my lord,” her voice was icy. “I came because of your father’s invitation. And how would I know how the others behaved? I can understand your words, but your manner of questioning must be old Scottish. Maybe it’s derived from your ancient barbaric Picts’ ways of torture, because I can’t make heads or tails of it. And quite frankly,” she lifted one eyebrow at him, “I don’t care.”

  She put on her sari and stepped away from him toward the door, too angry to care about her bag, Havaianas, and Kindle.

 
; “Stop!” He gripped her left arm. “I want tae talk tae ye.”

  “But I don’t,” she answered, moving her arm brusquely away from his grip. She winced as a shock of pain lashed through it.

  “What are ye planning, Mrs. Leibowitz? I want tae know why ye really came here. Ye doona need his money.”

  “Pardon?” she asked, flabbergasted. Breathe, Sophia, breathe. Remember your promise to Alice.

  “Do ye want the title? His international status? Want a replacement for yer late husband? A man tae father yer daughter?”

  Sophia’s face fell at the aggressive and incoherent accusations.

  She looked straight ahead at the glass windows, focusing on the view of the extensive lawns outside, inhaling and exhaling deep and loud. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

  “Coward,” he muttered under his breath. “Just like the others.”

  Her eyes darkened. She turned her head slowly to look at him, her chin high. “Did you just call me a coward?”

  “I did. Go ahead,” he taunted, “run back tae the arms of your dark lover and complain about my fucking bad manners.”

  Go screw yourself, Lieutenant-Colonel-Doctor-Lord-Arrogance. No one talks about my family like that. Or calls me a coward. After everything I’ve been through, that is one thing I am not. Her anger bubbled and spilled, and she fisted her hands, trying to control her temper. “Oh, you do have bad manners, my lord. And your language is deplorable.”

  She stomped toward him and whipped her neck back to look at his face. She felt a joint crack with her sharp movement. Damn. Does he have to be so tall? “I don’t need a replacement husband. Gabriela and I are doing just fine. And I don’t look for anyone’s protection.” I’m going to show you who is the coward here.

  Tavish’s face showed his surprise. None of Alistair’s other women would have the audacity to confront him. “Really? So what do ye want?”

  “Let me make some things clear, my lord,” she spat the words, past all reason, taunting him. “I don’t like this bullying of yours. I don’t understand what I’ve done to prompt such antagonism. But, you know what? I don’t give a damn. I’ve had enough of your abuse. Do you think you can go around throwing unfair accusations or creating scenes just because you were a prisoner of war? Do you? Well, let me tell one thing. You’re still alive and you have to live the best way you can. I won’t take pity on you. And people will tire of your wailings.”

  Tavish didn’t even flinch, his jaw locked so hard he thought he might break his teeth.

  She stepped in his direction, furious, and invaded his personal space, poking at his chest. “Come on, man up. Look around. There are people suffering much worse than you.”

  He narrowed his eyes, struggling to decipher the enraged woman before him. “And what would ye know about real life, Mrs. Leibowitz? So rich, so pampered.”

  “As if,” she snorted. “My lord, you have no idea what I know about life. But you’re not going to see me complaining or judging others unfairly. You want to be miserable, be miserable. By yourself. Don’t bother the ones who are trying to rebuild their lives. Leave your brother and me alone.”

  He bared his teeth at her in an animalistic gesture. “But that’s no’ what ye want, is it, Mrs. Leibowitz? Ye can fool all of them, but ye doona fool me. This time I won’t let Alistair and our family be hurt.”

  This guy is really crazy. “Huh?”

  “I see the way ye look at me. Ye find me hot.”

  His words left Sophia astounded. I think you are handsome, yes, but in the same way I find my brother handsome. Observation of beauty. She opened her mouth and shut it again, without uttering a word.

  “Ye want me too. Ye want us both.”

  “What?”

  “Aye, Alistair and me. In yer bed. Fuck—”

  Sophia slapped him hard. “Enough!”

  He backed away, unsteady, and put his hand on his burning cheek.

  “You’re arrogant, presumptuous, and sick. I don’t know where you got that disgusting idea from. And I don’t have to listen to you.”

  She turned, determined to leave the pool lounge just as the doors opened and Alistair, Alice, and Leonard entered, laughing.

  Alice was the first to notice the strained air between Sophia and her brother. She paled.

  Leonard stopped mid-stride by her side.

  Surprise flickered in Alistair’s face.

  And Sophia froze in place.

  “What’s going on here?” Alistair asked ominously when he saw Sophia’s hand imprinted on Tavish’s cheek. “Tavish Uilleam?”

  Sophia looked over her shoulder at Tavish. It appeared that he had no intention of answering his brother and Sophia wondered why.

  Tavish looked thoughtfully at her for a second, as if waiting for a response from her, then finally said, “A…misunderstanding.”

  “Sophia?” Alistair walked up to her, scowling.

  She studied Alistair’s stance and recalled Alice’s plea and her pledge in return. I stood my ground and said my piece. She peered at the red mark on Tavish’s face and smiled, unbidden. Yeah, I said my piece all right. Feeling lighter, she decided to let it go. “It’s as he said. A misunderstanding.”

  Tavish shoved his brother aside. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to him. He whispered, “I’m sorry. I mistook ye for someone else.”

  Sophia’s eyes opened wide. The gesture and words were so unexpected and confounding. She glanced at Alistair, who was rooted to the ground, watching the scene, with his lips tightened in one harsh line.

  “Apology accepted,” she whispered back, and disengaged from his hold to walk to Alistair’s side and put her arm around his waist.

  Alistair put his arm loosely over her shoulder.

  Before one of them could say a word, Alice blurted out, “What a beautiful outfit, Sophia.”

  “Thanks. Felipe brought the fabric from India, and Victoria made it for me.” She inhaled quietly, trying to calm her emotions. “She is studying fashion design at the Polimoda Institute in Florence.”

  “There’s a wonderful fashion school in London, too. Our mother studied there.” Alice caught her hand and pulled her to the farthest reclining chair, sitting by her. “Why did she choose Florence?”

  “Oh, you know how twins are. Valentina was awarded a scholarship at Lorenzo de’ Medici, where she studies art and interior design, so Vic followed. She wanted to go to Paris but Val didn’t want to lose her scholarship because she is not so sure of what she wants to be, and there she has a range of subjects to choose from.”

  Alice stared into Sophia’s eyes and asked in a whisper, “What happened, Sophia?”

  “Nothing, Alice. Nothing.” No need to upset her.

  “He must have—”

  “He apologized. It’s all fine.” After a silent minute, Sophia tilted her head and asked, “He said,” she made quotes in the air, “he mistook me for someone else. What did he mean by that?”

  “Sophia, Heather was…” Alice sighed and waved her hand in the air, forlornly. “She was despicable. Tavish Uilleam hated her. From the very beginning.”

  “But what happened to make him hate her so much?”

  “I don’t know. They were best friends, Alistair Connor and Tavish Uilleam. But Alistair Connor didn’t heed his advice, stubborn as he is. He was young and in love.” She shook her head, dejected. “She was a ravishing seductress. Men fell at her feet like leaves in autumn. Alistair Connor was the richest and most handsome of them all. She trapped him in her diseased, dark net.”

  Sophia’s jealousy raged so that the two last sentences didn’t register.

  So, Heather was Aphrodite. And Alistair had been in love with her. She felt her heart constrict in her chest with sadness, for him and for herself. You know how it goes, Sophia. That is why he doesn’t want another serious relationship. He probably misses her still. Sophia tilted her head to the side and looked thoughtfully at the three men talking at the other side of the pool. She only s
aw Alistair. How will I measure against his first love?

  He caught her looking at him and flashed his stunning smile at her.

  Tavish noticed the exchange, seeing a hint of love in Alistair’s smile, something not seen in a long while.

  In fact, he had never seen Alistair smile like that at any woman.

  Ever.

  Chapter 11

  5:18 p.m.

  Hand in hand, Sophia and Alistair strolled in the gardens, heading toward the maze; the sun just beginning to set. The sky started to color pink and orange, turning an already lovely landscape into a superlative vista.

  “Your brother is quite the contradiction,” she said, hesitantly, her hand brushing the trimmed leaves of the cypress hedges that formed the enormous and tall maze. “He’s mean one moment, then nice the next. Threatening one moment, then protective. He’s so difficult to figure out. Even with you, he has mercurial moods.” Both of you have.

  “He’s distrustful of you and it’s my fault,” he scowled himself. “Give him some time to know you. He’ll come around.”

  “And in spite of his rudeness, there is something…something that makes me like him. He’s intelligent, creative, and caring. He’s very protective of your family. But he’s also very stern.”

  “You’d have liked the Tavish Uilleam from before the war. He was quick-witted, always high-spirited. He used to make everyone around him laugh,” he sighed. “Now, he’s blue and serious.”

  “What happened?”

  “He never talks about it with us.” He shook his head, sorrowfully. “All we know is, he was captured during an ambush, and held prisoner of war for months. Him—and his girlfriend—were captured. She was beheaded, and he was shot in the thigh as he escaped and then rescued by a special-ops team.”

  “Oh my god!” Sophia gasped. “And he doesn’t talk about that? At all?”

  “Nae,” Alistair answered as he sat beside her on a bench in the middle of the maze. “He sees his shrink in London, twice a week, but that’s all.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Aye, me too,” he sighed.

  She turned, resting her upper leg and knee on the bench and he put an arm around her shoulders, entwining the hair that fell over it in his fingers.