Gabriela’s kiss awoke a still groggy Sophia. Despite everything that had happened yesterday, she was feeling refreshed. When she stretched out lazily and opened her eyes, Gabriela sprinkled kisses on her cheek.
“Wake up, Mamãe,” she said impatiently, so excited she was practically bouncing on the bed. “We’re going to Craigdale.”
That made Sophia blink and fully wake up. She rubbed her eyes and pushed up, seeing Alistair standing by the edge of the bed. “Hey, good morning. We’re going to Craigdale? Today?”
“Aye.” He sat by her side. “After your therapy session. I’ve spoken with Dr. Colton—”
“You’ve spoken with Dr. Colton,” she repeated dryly, tilting her head to study his face. Sophia didn’t know if she should be irritated with the way he had decided everything without consulting her. She wasn’t used to having someone else make her decisions. “When?”
“He called about ten minutes ago. He wanted to know how you spent the night.” He tucked back a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Tavish Uilleam is coming with us, you don’t need to worry.”
He orders everyone around.
“And Alistair let me invite Ariadne, Alice, Michael, and Leonard,” Gabriela complemented. “Everyone, Mama! Can I choose your clothes?”
Sophia’s smile couldn’t be contained anymore. Gabriela’s happiness was her priority in life and if Alistair made her daughter happy, she would put up with some meddling in her life. Right now, it was the least of her problems.
Chapter 22
Kensington
Dr. Guilhermina Kent’s Office
10:04 a.m.
Dr. Kent opened the door to her office and smiled, welcoming Sophia in with a kiss on each cheek. She was Columbian and looked thirty, despite being forty-five years old. She had olive skin, very short brownish hair and brown expressive eyes. She didn’t dress conservatively; she didn’t talk pompously; she wore just a hint of makeup. She encouraged her patients to call her by her nickname, Mina, and she talked—really talked—during the sessions. And smiled a lot. No stern looks or frowns from Dr. Kent.
Edward was the one who had referred her. Based solely on her appearance and demeanor, Sophia would never have guessed she was a psychiatrist, who graduated from Stanford University, with a doctorate in psychoanalysis from the University of Essex.
“How are you, Sophia?”
“I’ve been better.” Sophia sat in the armchair instead of lying on the couch. She preferred to look at Dr. Kent’s face and the doctor was very comfortable with this arrangement.
Dr. Kent’s trained gaze swept over Sophia’s face. “You look better than yesterday. Much better.”
“I’m trying to convince myself of that as well,” Sophia said wryly.
With her lips twisting ruefully, Dr. Kent sat in her armchair, facing Sophia and crossed her legs. “You know, Sophia, you are human. You don’t have to punish yourself because you can’t always live up to the high standards you set for yourself.”
High standards? You have no idea. Sophia grimaced, “People expect me to behave according to the high expectations I’ve always set. I have always had perfect and model behavior. I—Sophia, the lawyer, the teacher, the heiress, even the widow and the mother…we are myths, hiding our dark secrets under fairy tales.”
“We are here to deconstruct these myths you have created for yourself and shed some light on those supposedly dark secrets of yours.” Dr. Kent smiled and put her elbows on her knees.
“People see what they want to see and they will react to me based on who they want me to be.”
“And who do you want to be, Sophia?” she asked quietly.
I don’t know. Sophia didn’t answer.
“Secrets,” Dr. Kent mused, “they weigh on us. How much are you carrying on your shoulders?”
“A lot,” Sophia breathed.
“You know you need to unburden yourself of your secrets, don’t you?”
“Once secrets are told…their power to wound becomes greater.”
“What hurts more, Sophia? The one time confession of a sin or an unconfessed sin that festers and rots?”
Sophia exhaled a gush of air. “Mina, if one of your patients sat right here in this armchair and told you they had committed a crime—a murder—what would you do? Would you report them to the police?”
Dr. Kent reclined slowly, resting her back on the chair and scanning Sophia’s face. She was very good at reading Sophia’s emotions, because she held nothing back in therapy. But, for the first time, Dr. Kent was puzzled and intrigued by how blank Sophia’s face was, even though her question gave much away. “Sophia, it’s not my position to judge or report a patient. And, without taking circumstances into account, I cannot examine what has led to this supposed act. Tell me, when you take on a new case, do you condemn the person at first sight?”
“Touché,” Sophia smiled. But her smile was gone as quickly as it had come. Sophia took a big envelope from her Hermès bag and handed it to Dr. Kent. “I’ve killed eleven of the men in this photo.”
Dr. Kent had to make an effort to stop her mouth from dropping open. She calmly surveyed the photo, lifted her brown eyes, pinning Sophia with her stare. “You killed these men. Very well. What kind of fantasy is this?”
Sophia looked away from the doctor and broke down sobbing. The words spilled from her mouth as she vomited the whole story. At least, the parts of it she remembered.
“Sophia, sometimes the guilty one is not the person who has committed the crime, but the person who has created the possibility for it to be committed.” Dr. Kent tried to tell her about how nature’s laws were bendable, breakable even, if done for the right reasons and that not all laws were good. She tried to reason with Sophia that other people were responsible for the dark night itself. “Many times, criminals think they have committed a crime bigger than the crime itself, because of their own guilt,” reasoned Dr. Kent.
“Are you trying to tell me that I am not guilty?” Sophia asked, drying her eyes and face. “That the men that were killed are responsible for their own deaths?”
“No, Sophia. I’m just saying that what happened was a consequence of their odious act. And that you think you’ve committed a crime worse than you have just because you have been nurturing a guilt bigger than it should be.”
Sophia could relate to the thought that some souls are full of guilt. “So…”
“Sophia, anyone who knows you and this wretched story will tell you that you have repented. I agree with Edward’s words. You are doing everything you can.”
“I was angry. I wanted to harm them. Don’t you understand, Mina? I wanted to make them suffer for everything they did to Gabriel.”
“Feeling angry is a part of us. It’s a natural response to being attacked, insulted, deceived or frustrated. They killed Gabriel. They made him suffer.”
When Sophia started to shake her head, Dr. Kent held up her hand.
“Let me finish, Sophia. Excessive anger is only a symptom of mental health problems, when it harms you or people around you. This can depend on whether you express your anger, and how you express it. Something happens that makes you angry, you express your anger and then move on. Something very serious happened. You knew the criminals wouldn’t be punished. That made you angry and you expressed it and then moved on.”
“So you are saying that anyone is allowed to take justice into their own hands?”
Dr. Kent shook her head firmly. “No. Never. I’m just saying that what you did is psychologically justifiable. You have to come to terms with it, Sophia, or it can have serious negative consequences in the long run.”
Scotland, Highlands, Ardaneaskan, Loch Carron
Craigdale Castle
3:08 p.m.
This is ridiculous.” Sophia stomped her foot on the hall marble floor. “I’m not going to bed in the middle of the day. I want to go riding with the kids. I don’t see why—”
“I said no. No riding. No running.” Alistair frowned at So
phia, crossing his arms over his chest. “Up to the bedroom, Sophia.”
“Stubborn man.” She crossed her arms and frowned up at him, imitating his stance.
“Stubborn woman,” he hissed back.
“Lord Pot meets Lady Kettle.” Lachlann chuckled and grabbed Gabriela and Ariadne by the hand. “Let’s go, girls. Michael, come on. Those two will be here all day.” Alistair’s father left the hall, heading toward the stables, with the children beside him.
“Alistair Connor, that’s a bit over the top, don’t you think?” Alice shook her head at Alistair, amazed at his overbearing protection.
Alistair whipped his head to frown at Alice this time. “Medical orders. Don’t interfere.”
Tavish went to Sophia’s aid. “I’m the doctor here. And I say—” He interrupted his sentence when Alistair stepped in his direction. “Er, I’m going to make a suggestion.”
“Suggest with caution, Tavish Uilleam,” Alistair admonished.
“We could go rowing and then have a picnic by the loch. Sophia could use some fresh air and sunlight. Tomorrow afternoon we could go riding.”
Alistair looked at Sophia and she smiled at him, pleading with her eyes. He couldn’t resist. “Rowing it is then. I’m going to change. Say…in fifteen minutes, by the loch?”
Tavish winked at Sophia and made a face at the back of Alistair’s head. Alice and Sophia walked out of the hall, giggling and whispering conspiratorially.
Leonard, who was silently observing the whole exchange, let out a chortle and slapped Alistair on the back, saying cryptically, “Keep trying, Alistair. Keep trying.”
5:01 p.m.
I need to talk with my father.” He kissed her quickly on the lips as they arrived from the loch. “I’ll head to the sauna after, and you, my lady, are going to bed for an hour, at least, before dinner. I’ll meet you later in our room, all right?”
“All right.” Sophia stood there admiring Alistair’s well shaped butt as he disappeared behind the double doors to the Laird Library.
“Sophia! Sophia!” She turned her head to see Michael bolting across the great hall toward her with the two girls behind him.
“What are you doing, kids?”
“Will you go outside and play with us? Will you, Sophia?” Ariadne begged. “Uncle Tavish Uilleam, Mummy, and Daddy are on their way to the Spa.”
Sophia looked around and asked Gabriela, “Where is Maria?”
“She went to get a ball with Flannagan. But I want you to come, Mamãe. Please?”
Sophia hesitated.
“It’s still light out. We can play in the Elm Courtyard and Maria and Flannagan can come along too,” Michael suggested. “It’ll be fun.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, laughing as the children jumped and cheered around her. “Just for a little while then.”
The children’s faces lit up, the girls grabbed her by the hands and Sophia ran along with them.
Chapter 23
What you want is immaterial, Alistair Connor. You shouldn’t rush her into making a life changing decision so quickly. Besides, she has a daughter to consider,” Lachlann muttered, rubbing his nape as he watched his son intently. “It’s too soon.”
“I can’t wait. I’m afraid of losing her. And I can’t lose her. Or Gabriela, for that matter,” Alistair countered, gazing sadly at Nathalie’s photograph on his father’s desk. “I waited too long once before and lost everything.”
With these words ringing in his ears, Lachlann rose from the chair. “So be it. You have my blessing. And, I’m sure, your mother would give hers too.” He walked to a cabinet and opened its door to reveal an enormous safe. He punched in a code, unlocking the safe. He motioned for Alistair to approach and looked up into his son’s eyes. “When you got married…well, my son, Katherine and I were very disappointed in your choice. For many long nights, we talked about what we would give you as a wedding present. We know you were surprised that we didn’t give you your share of the jewels, as well as the properties, like we did with Alice.” He waved his hand at the bottom shelves. “You can have them now. I’m sure Sophia will be steadfast and will bring you the happiness that has been missing in your life. Sophia is everything your mother and I have always hoped you would find.”
He hugged his father, the absence of his mother pressing on his heart. “Sophia already makes me happy, Father.”
“Good.” Lachlann cleared his throat as he picked up an old green jewel box from the upper shelf and caressed it reverently. “If I could choose the engagement ring for you…it would be this one.”
As Lachlann opened the box, Alistair saw that it was his mother’s favorite ring. The one she wore every day of her life. Alistair closed the box, putting his hand over his father’s. “It will be this one, then.”
“Take the jewels with you on Monday.”
Alistair nodded. “I will. Thank you, Father.”
A loud knock on the door interrupted them. Tavish opened the door and complained, “It was supposed to be a five minute talk. Leonard and I are waiting. Come on, Alistair Connor.”
Alistair turned to his father. “We’re heading to the Spa. Do you want to join us?”
Lachlann absently stroked the jewel box before putting it back in the safe and locking it. “Good idea.”
Alistair stopped dead in his tracks when he walked by the Game Room. Its windows overlooked the Elm Courtyard and he was regaled with the view of Sophia playing with the children.
“That bloody stubborn woman,” he muttered.
“What?” Tavish asked in a startled voice.
“I’m going to drag her to the bedroom by the hair.” Ignoring his family, Alistair walked through the Game Room, fury bubbling up with each stomp.
“Stubborn, impossible, unmanageable woman!” His voice resounded like thunder in the courtyard.
He hadn’t realized that they had stopped their game the moment they heard him. Nor could he notice the four ancient giant elms that stood like sentinels in each corner of the courtyard, while snowdrops, viburnums, wisteria, Scottish bluebells, purple heather and pink rhododendrons exploded in color around the borders of the lawn.
The adults followed him; Lachlann tilting his head heavenward praying for patience, Alice shaking her head, and Leonard and Tavish exchanging amazed grins.
“Pardon?” Sophia asked, with a raised eyebrow, when he stopped in front of her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he barked and Sophia winced. “I told you to go rest. In our chamber. In bed! I gave my word to Dr. Colton I would take care of you. You shouldn’t be on your feet. Much less outside running with the kids.”
“Alistair Connor, that’s more than enough,” Lachlann admonished and Alistair spun to shoot his father a dark look.
“I believe your father just suggested you’re lacking common sense,” Leonard drawled.
“She is the one lacking common sense. Clearly, I gave her too much credit.” Alistair turned back to Sophia. “Your disobedience and impulsiveness are going to get you killed.”
“Have you finished?” she asked serenely, raising her elegant brows at him, not the least bit intimidated by his fury.
“Nae,” he hissed. “You aren’t a child any—”
“I’m not, but Gabriela is.” She jutted her chin to where her daughter was watching the argument, her eyes wide.
Fuck. Alistair froze and slowly turned. They were all looking at him: the children, the employees, and his family.
Alice, who now stood near the children, grimaced at him.
Clearly he had overreacted. God spare me these stubborn women.
Sophia walked past Alistair, kneeling by the children. “I’ll play with you again tomorrow, all right?”
Gabriela looked up at Alistair who had stopped next to Sophia. “Are you still mad?”
He sighed and dropped to his haunches, and placing both hands on her shoulders, squeezed gently. “I’m not mad.”
“Oh.” Gabriela gaped at him. “So, why di
d you shout?”
“Because I’m worried. Your mother promised me she would rest.” His gaze traveled from Gabriela’s face to Sophia’s. “How can I take care of her, if she doesn’t obey orders?”
Gabriela angled her head to the side and reasoned, “Then, you have to go sleep with her.”
Tavish burst into laughter.
Alistair’s mouth dropped open. He looked to Alice for help, but his sister was too busy trying to maintain a serious face.
“Gabriela,” Lachlann grinned and ruffled her blonde hair, “you’re an astute wee lass.”
“I’ll go upstairs then.” Sophia smiled and kissed Gabriela on the cheek. “See you later, Angel.”
When Sophia rose, Alistair didn’t waste a moment. He bent, hauled her onto his shoulder and walked off toward the Game Room.
Sophia giggled and waved with both hands to the children, blowing kisses.
Alistair heard laughter and taunts behind him, but didn’t look back, walking all the way to the lifts with sure strides in a moody silence.
Sophia didn’t know if she should laugh or if she should frown at him. He had every right to be aggravated with her, but that gave him no right to shout at her.
He put Sophia down only when the lift door closed and scowled down at her, “What were you thinking? How can you be so careless?”
“Alistair Connor.” She smiled, unable to find fault in his concern, despite his overbearing behavior. “Calm down. I feel okay.”
He snorted and dragged her down the long corridor, shoved her inside his bedchamber and slammed the door behind them. “Stubborn, infuriating woman. To the shower. Now!”
Ignoring his order, Sophia stopped in the middle of his room.