Cristiane Serruya - Trust: Betrayed

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?”

“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.”

“That’s a fantastic idea,” exclaimed Angelica. “And I can help with the catering.”

Alistair was following the exchange, his turn now to be at a loss for words with the look of panic on Sophia’s face.

“Victoria can make your dress and Gabriela’s,” Carolina prompted. “And I’m sure Alistair’s sister and her sister-in-law will be delighted to help you with the seating charts and all the protocol.”

“My dear, do as we do in Hollywood: hire. Hire the best wedding planner, cake designer and so on. The best in the United Kingdom, at least,” Drake finished. “With this I can help, I have the best contacts all around the world.”

Sophia looked from one to another, openmouthed. “You’ve got my life all planned, haven’t you?” She whipped her head to stare at Alistair as she refilled her wine glass. “So it is settled. August the seventh, at Airgead Caisteal. Starting with a small formal reception at my house to announce our engagement as soon as we arrive back in London.” She swirled the wine in her glass and drank some. “In August, Airgead will be our meeting point. All the parties you want. Four hundred people give or take. We are going to be the talk of the town.”

“Sophia-” he tried to stop her but Sophia was angry.

“To the widow and the widower. The new love birds,” she sneered, raising a toast to him with her glass. She set it back on the table with a thump and wine spilled from it. Pushing her chair back, she got up, flinging her napkin on the table with rage. “Just don’t expect me to wear white. I might wear black. Excuse me.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What got in to her? Alistair rose also, but was too astonished to move as she marched to the door.

“The future Marchioness has teeth,” Drake smirked.

Felipe stood, surprised at her outburst and ordered, “Sophia, come back. You’re being rude!”

At the door, Sophia tossed her hair back and looked at him over her shoulder. “Screw you, Felipe.”

She banged the door closed, but they heard her exclaiming, “Screw all of you!”

Alistair winced. Sophia didn’t yell often, and when she did, it was jarring.

“She doesn’t want to marry you anymore, Alistair?” Gabriela’s small voice broke the silence.

Fuck! He gazed into Gabriela’s eyes. “Nae. It’s no’ this. She’s a wee nervous, dearling. Brides aft get nervous afore a mairiage. Don’t you ken that?”

She smiled, “You are talking funny. Are you nervous, too?”

“You bricht wee lass.” Get a grip, for Christ’s sake, Alistair Connor. He cleared his throat and said, “Feudaidh e a bhith, tha beagan.” Immediately translating, “Maybe I am a little.”

Gabriela’s laughter tinkled inside him and he smiled, relieved.

“What kind of heathen language is that?” Drake asked. “So masculine.”

“Scottish Gaelic.” Alistair didn’t even look in his direction. Standing up, he gazed at Angelica. “I’m so sorry. I guess this is entirely my fault. I should have talked with her first.”

“Still, my son, that doesn’t excuse her behavior.” Angelica’s face was serious and pale. “I apologize for her.”

“Don’t, please. She’s had a bad day...” he trailed off. “Could you show me where she is?”

“Come with me.” Felipe strolled to the door. “I know where she’ll be.”

Before leaving, Alistair turned and kissed Gabriela’s head, “I’ll be back with your mother, Fairy. And I’m sure she will let you choose your flower girl dress, okay?”

“And my bouquet,” she demanded.

“Everything you want, Fairy.”

9.45 p.m.

Felipe closed the dining room door behind them and paused.”What happened today?”

Alistair closed his eyes for a second. A pounding headache was forming behind his eyelids. “She ran into her in-laws.”

“Fuck!” The expletive came out as a hurled knife from Felipe’s mouth.

“Exactly,” he thinned his lips and shook his head. “It was not pretty.”

“It never is where Alberto is concerned. He’s a son of a bitch!” There was so much anger in Felipe’s voice that the air resonated with it. “Fucking bad luck! Still, she’s completely wrong to take it out on you.”

“Don’t, please. As I said to your grandmother, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. I ought to have talked to her first. Besides, she was really making an effort to be here tonight. She was very distressed by the argument she had with the Leibowitzes. Alberto almost slapped her.”

“What?” The slow and controlled way the word left Sophia’s brother’s lips told Alistair that Felipe’s anger had reached its peak and that the man had a formidable control over it.

Alistair rubbed his temples. “He would have, if I hadn’t been there.”

There was murder in Felipe’s blazing hazel eyes. “I’ll kill the bastard. Tell me what happened.”