“I can see you enjoyed your day, Gabriela. You don’t even remember that you have a mother anymore.” Sophia said and the little girl turned serious.
“I’m sorry, Mama. Good evening,” she said composed, then started giggling again. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, love,” Sophia smiled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss her daughter. “So you had fun with your aunt?” She pushed the door to a huge square room, all done in soft pastel colors with modern paintings hanging on the wall.
“Yes, she had. Almost drove Grandma crazy. Too much energy,” said Carol, seriously.
“Oh! She didn’t! She was just being a child. You are too protective.” Angelica huffed from behind. “Would you believe, Sophia, that Carol asked me to go rest, in the middle of the afternoon, with the false pretense that the beach had tired me? I’m sure that she wanted to have Gabriela for herself.”
“Oh, no, my little niece is in trouble again.” A mellifluous voice came from behind them.
Sophia and Alistair spun around.
Sophia’s smile opened wide and she threw herself in Felipe’s arms. He was informally dressed, wearing a light-pink shirt, with its long sleeves rolled up and navy slacks. He laughed, kissed and hugged her. He smiled and extended his hand to Alistair, “Nice to see you again, Alistair. How are you?”
“Please, let’s sit. We are waiting for Carolina’s err...” Angelica looked at Carolina.
“Fiancé,” Felipe snorted.
“You are engaged, Carol? Congratulations.” Sophia hugged her sister. “I didn’t know.”
“Seems they decided it last night,” Felipe explained, thinning his lips. “He’s finished filming the scenes here and he wants Carolina to move with him to Hollywood.”
“You’re moving?” Sophia was astonished. “You?”
“Why not?” she asked defensively. “You, Valentina and Victoria did. Why not me?”
“Yes, why not?” Felipe derided.
Angelica tactfully changed the subject, as she rose and took Alistair by the arm, commanding everyone to the veranda, asking Alistair about his family.
When Drake Westwood entered the living room, carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses, for the first time in the evening, Carolina really smiled. She pushed from the rail of the balcony, where she was eagerly watching the door and walked swiftly to receive him.
He dipped her over one arm and kissed her as if they were alone in the room. He gave her the flowers and she threw her arms around his neck. He hugged and kissed her again.
“See what I meant?” Felipe was scowling.
“Oh, Felipe,” Sophia, who was eyeing the scene raptly, sighed with longing. “We had our time, too, remember?”
Had?! What she meant by ‘had’?
“Had?” Alistair murmured in her ear.
She explained, startled. “It’s Carol’s first real boyfriend,” she said, looking up at his face. “It’s... first love. I mean... It’s not the same.”
Oh. Is not? How is it for you, then?
“Nae?” A hurt look appeared on his face and he stepped further back into the shadows and stayed there looking at the waning crescent moon partially obscured by the rainy clouds.
Oh, Alistair Connor.
“It’s not-” Sophia’s apology and explanation were interrupted by Drake’s presence on the balcony.
Thomas Drake Westwood was not what one would expect from a Hollywood movie director. He looked like an elegant Al Capone. He even had the cigars, which could be seen in a special leather pouch in his tweed jacket pocket. He was tall and lean but not handsome or muscular. His brown hair was receding and thinning. Nonetheless, all in all, Drake had flair and a commanding presence. His clothes were expensive but understated. However, what truly called one’s attention were his eagle sharp brown eyes. Eyes that scanned a person and discovered their most private wishes. Eyes that offered fulfillment of these secrets.
He flashed a smile at Angelica, who stretched her hand to him. He kissed it with a flourish.
“This is my great-granddaughter, Gabriela,” Angelica introduced the girl to him.
He picked Gabriela up in his arms with a flourish and exclaimed, “A fairy!”
Gabriela’s mouth formed a big O, before she tilted her head to the side and asked intrigued, “How do you know?”
“I am a magician. After dinner, I’m going to make you disappear!” He kissed the wide-eyed little girl and put her back on the floor, advancing purposely toward Felipe.
“Felipe, my friend, how are you?” Drake slapped him on the back.
Felipe grimaced at Sophia over the man’s shoulder, who, in turn, giggled.
At the lilting sound, Drake turned slowly to look at her, taking in her presence for the first time. His dark eyes sparkled when he saw her standing under the light, her one shoulder red top hugging her figure and the leather black miniskirt revealing her long, beautiful legs. A wolfish smile appeared on his features and he appraised her from head to toe.
“Where have you been hiding?” He grinned at Sophia.
“This is my sister, Sophia. Sophia, this is Carol’s fiancé, Thomas Drake Westwood,” Felipe introduced.
“Drake to my friends.”
He leaned in to kiss her, but Alistair’s arm snatched her by the waist, pulling her back to his body.
Drake straightened up and craned his neck to look up at Alistair’s face.
“
This
is the future Marchioness of Ells, my fiancée.”
Let’s set boundaries here.
Alistair towered over the much shorter man. “I’m Alistair Connor MacCraig, the Marquis of Ells and CEO of The City of London Bank, among other things.” He stretched his hand, keeping Sophia out of Drake’s reach.
Felipe’s forehead furrowed and he looked at Sophia, who discreetly lifted a shoulder, smiling at Alistair’s immediate reaction.
Lord Caveman is staking his claim. Let him.
Drake didn’t even blink and put his hand in Alistair’s, letting it linger there. “A pleasure, milord. Congratulations on your engagement.” His stare moved from Alistair to Sophia as he inspected them both with the same boldness. In a hoarse, intimate voice, he said, “You make a breathtaking couple.”
“Indeed,” Alistair answered drily and quirked one black eyebrow, snatching his hand from Drake’s grip.
This man’s gaze is unpleasant.
Alistair’s countenance darkened.
How dare he look at Sophia like that?
Carolina exiting the kitchen, carrying a huge crystal vase with the roses and announcing dinner was served, distracted him from his unpleasant thoughts.
“So, Sophia, have you and Alistair set a date yet?” Angelica asked from the head of the table, after making a toast to them and to Carolina and Drake.
“Not yet, Grand-”
“August the seventh, at Airgead Caisteal,” Gabriela interrupted.
Sophia lost her breath. “What?”
Chapter 27
“It was supposed to be a surprise, Fairy, remember?” Alistair groaned inwardly as Sophia’s head popped up.
Gabriela’s blue eyes widened, “Oops. Sorry.”
He shook his head and crossed his arms, but a huge grin belied his stern stance.
“I beg your pardon?” Sophia was staring at him, surprised.
How dare he?
“August the seventh, at Airgead Caisteal,” he repeated Gabriela’s words, flashing her a bright smile, his emerald eyes shining with love.
“I heard what she said. First of all, August the seventh is too soon. Second, Airgead is too far away and I’ve never even been there. Third... Third...”
Alistair didn’t let her come up with another new excuse. “This can be easily remedied. The staff will help you put the wedding together in less than a month. They do this all the time. It’s the best time of the year to be on the West coast of Scotland. And Airgead is wonderful.”
“Staff?” Angelica asked.
“Airgead Caisteal is an exclusive five star resort and spa,” Alistair explained.
“And what is the average temperature during the best time of the year in the Highlands?” Drake jeered at Sophia.
Alistair quirked an eyebrow at the mocking grin. “Fairly good. Much nicer than the hot summers in California.”
“I prefer something smaller. Just family. Maybe a small lunch at our house, in December,” Sophia almost begged.
“No. It’s going to be perfect.” He shook his head. “Imagine... We’ll have the castle to ourselves. At this time of the year it’s closed to the public for two weeks, from July the twenty-sixth to August ninth. Lovely warm weather and the grounds all to us and our guests. A reception for... four hundred, give or take.” He looked at Sophia’s grandmother, smiling. “I’m proud to be marrying your granddaughter. I’ll be eager to show her off on my arm all in white.”
“Have you gone insane?” Sophia gasped, astonished. “White? I’m a widow.” She shook her head. “Four hundred people? No way, Alistair Connor.”
“Alistair said I could be the flower girl,” Gabriela beamed, almost jumping on her chair. “Can I choose my dress? Can I, Mama?”
Sophia looked at her daughter’s happy face, but found no voice to answer her.
Alistair, excitedly, launched into an explanation of his ideas. “We can receive all the international guests with a dinner at Atwood House and Alice can plan a weekend at Galewick Hall. For the wedding, we can have a round of parties starting on Thursday, with a dinner at Tavish Uilleam’s property, Dryad Manor, a lunch on Friday with a riding tournament at Craigdale Castle, my Father’s home. They are all close, within forty-five minutes of each other. Just a couple of minutes in the chopper. And they will also be shut during that period.”
His green eyes sparkled with joy. He released the silverware he was holding, turned to Sophia and grabbed her hand. “We have sixty-five rooms at my father’s place, fifty-seven at Airgead, forty-three at Tavish Uilleam’s. That’s... a hundred-and-sixty-five spacious rooms, most of them double suites. Every guest could be housed within our properties, except for the ones who have homes nearby. We could have the ceremony in the morning. Let’s say... eleven-thirty. Then have lunch and the party in the afternoon and evening. I’ve already imagined the photos we’ll take. On the beach, near the loch with the mountains capped with snow at the back. On the next day, Sunday, we say our farewells at a brunch at Airgead and leave for our honeymoon. One month. Thailand, Cambodia and the Maldives. What do you think?” He looked at her like a small boy eager for approval.
Sophia was gaping at him. “There is no time to prepare all this. The guest list, all the stationary, invitations, menus, seating charts. We’d have to send the save the date cards next week. Then the invitations, keep track of the RSVPs, plan the catering, flowers, music, photographers, so many things.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “God. Choose the theme, the colors, the best maids, arrange the fittings. The cake, the favors. And a bunch of other stuff I can’t even remember. Organizing all this. It’s impossible.”
“It isn’t, dear.” Angelica smiled at Sophia and then at Alistair and squeezed Sophia’s hand. “We’ve already done something similar.”
“But Grandma, it was all done here and much more informal. There were no dukes or royals with rigid protocols I’m not familiar with. And there are too many parties, too many people.” She was trying to take in all he had said.
Things are moving too quickly.
“Dukes?” Drake was following the conversation with bored curiosity, more interested in observing Sophia, who was sitting in front of him.
“Alistair is the heir to a dukedom,” Carolina explained to him, “and his brother-in-law is a duke.”
“Fascinating.” He gave his fiancée a little smile.
“There is no difference, Sophia. Besides you are more experienced now. How many parties have you held with almost no notice? And we can all help,” Carolina said.
“Indeed, Carolina.” Sophia’s sarcasm was evident. “You will all move to England and Scotland to help me. The same way you did when-” she interrupted what she was saying, but the meaning was clear.
“Sophia.” Felipe didn’t raise his voice, but the criticism was there. “Circumstances are different. We couldn’t help then.”
“The circumstances will always be different-” she interrupted herself again and breathed deep. “The least people are going to say is that I’m pregnant.”
Oh, damn. You and your big mouth, Sophia.
She checked Alistair’s face.
No harm done.
“Who is going to deal with the Royal Family?” she raised her brows at Alistair. “You can’t invite them with such short notice.”
“Royal Family?” Drake muttered under his breath. “This gets more interesting by the minute.”
“It is not like that, Beauty.” Alistair curled his finger under Sophia’s chin, his green eyes burying into her honey ones. “They are not just the Royal Family. Well, they are. But they are my friends. And you already know most of them.”
“Right. Next, you will tell me you’ll invite the Queen. That she’s-” Her voice disappeared when he lifted his broad shoulders and looked at her sheepishly. “No way, Alistair Connor. No way.”
“Yes way, Mama!” Gabriela exclaimed. “I’ve always dreamed of meeting the Queen!”
“You and Gabriel decided to marry in less than three months and everything was perfect, and you had a thousand guests.”
“Leave Gabriel out of this, Felipe,” Sophia lowered her tone, angered. “Anyway, I can’t be traveling to Scotland every week. Airgead is not exactly around the corner, you know?”
Alistair felt a sudden uneasiness. He drank some wine to ease the feeling, but it tasted acid on his tongue. He could hardly swallow it and put the glass down.
“We can help. Before you leave, I can design the main theme for the stationary with you.” Carolina put her chin on her steepled fingers, a dreamy look on her face. “I can draw Airgead Caisteal with your initials entwined over it. And for the riding tournament, we can use a photo of you two riding and I’ll make a watercolor of it. Valentina can do some of the others so they don’t look too similar. And you can have them printed in Italy in a few days. I know an exceptional printer there.”