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Indigo reached over and squeezed the older man’s hand. “It was all thanks to you, Mr. Grimoult. You risked your life to retrieve his research papers and I am forever in your debt.”
She stood and spoke briskly. “Now, enough of this reminiscing. I need to be certain of one thing. Can I trust Captain Dogooder?”
Chapter 2
As the sun rose over the Cornish landscape, Duke Leopold of Lorca paced around the second mezzanine ring deck of his ancestral home, Castle Lorcathian. Accessible via a long suspension bridge, only a select few were privy to the knowledge of a steam door for underwater craft, which provided a less dangerous entry to the castle. The castle dominated the coastline, the huge moving cog on the eastern parapet used by mariners for navigation past the treacherous rocks.
Leopold did not notice the soft pink light creeping over the broad open fields to the east nor did he notice the small man shadowing his steps. Closely followed by Brixton, his faithful retainer, the duke stopped frequently, peering out across the ocean through a long glass monocular with a large brass handle. Muttering as he fiddled with the cogs on the device, the duke headed off for another circuit of the deck. He paid no attention to the automatic gas lamps dying as the morning sun touched the walls of the castle. Stopping suddenly, Leopold turned around and the little man scurrying along behind him tripped over the duke’s feet.
“Get up, man.” The duke cuffed the small man’s head. “Tell me again, Brixton, you are sure you didn’t see where her crew went?”
Brixton, whose little face complimented the sharp rat-like features of the duke, climbed back to his feet, clinging to the edge of the parapet. “No, your Grace.” His voice trembled. “But, it has been confirmed that neither does Madame de Vargas know.”
“What about the cargo?” The duke raised his voice and Brixton flinched
“Gone also, your Grace.”
Brixton’s eyes widened as the duke threw the monocular toward him in a fit of temper. He ducked and the large device whistled past his pointy ears. It bounced off the edge of the parapet before clattering down the side of the castle, pieces of brass landing on the rocks far below.
To his great disgust, the duke could see the de Vargas holiday complex from most points of his ancestral home castle, further fueling his jealousy of Madame de Vargas’ successful enterprise.
“It will all be mine soon,” he muttered. “I will ensure that before the month is out.” Madame de Vargas had foiled each of his previous schemes, including a marriage proposal. Clenching his jaw, Leopold recalled her cruel laughter as she coldly rejected his proposal.
“Is she attending my soiree this evening?” The duke looked down at the little man beside him.
“Madame de Vargas has accepted the invitation, your Grace. Her brother is accompanying her.” Brixton replied.
“Her brother? What brother? I was unaware she had a brother,” he asked crossly. “ She has a sister. No matter, he may distract her from her task. What about Henry Cole? Have we heard back from him?”
“Confirmed, your Grace. The dirigible transporting Mr. Cole will arrive at eight o’clock.”
The duke rubbed his hands together with a smirk, satisfied with the turn of events. If all went to plan, he would have the better of Madame de Vargas, sooner rather than later.
“In that case, please activate the carriage to ferry him across the bridge. But only Henry, Brixton. Madame de Vargas and her brother can walk. With any luck, she will fall from the bridge and then my troubles will be over.” Leopold pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bring my snuffbox. I must keep my wits about me.” Scurrying away, the little man’s head bobbed in agreement.
Duke Lorca entertained frequently. Guests attending functions at the castle crossed the suspension bridge in a steam-powered rail carriage if the duke was feeling sociable. Those out of favor walked across the swinging bridge. Feeling more satisfied by the moment, the duke chuckled as he awaited his snuff. “As the Prince Consort says, if you need steam, get Cole.”
INDIGO SAT IN THE BREAKFAST room going over their plan, toying with the idea of entrusting Zane with the true reason for their Amazon voyage. Two hours passed as she waited for him to make an appearance, her temper growing as the clock struck noon. The lingering memory of that strong, muscular body pinning her to the wall had given her a sleepless night. It had been some months since her last sexual escapade, she reasoned to herself. That explained the way her body responded to him. Although she found Captain Dogooder most intriguing, he was only another man.
Nothing special.
But he did not seem intimidated by her, as most gentlemen in her acquaintance were. Traveling to South America in the Artemis provided occasional contact with men of a different time, who were receptive of her confidence. The captain appeared not at all perturbed, and a thoughtful smile curved her lips as Indigo recalled his interest. However, she would forget all thoughts of a dalliance until after the voyage. Having come to a decision, she returned to the matter in hand.
Indigo rang the breakfast bell impatiently. “Mrs. Grimoult, is there any sign of the captain rising from his bed? Would you go and wake him please.”
The housekeeper came from the kitchen, carefully placing a fresh pot of tea in front of her mistress. “I believe Captain Dogooder has gone back to the Skip Shaft Inn in Tin Town to collect his kit. He did not know what welcome you would give him, so he did not come prepared to spend a night. You do have a fearsome reputation, my dear.”
“Good.” That perception pleased Indigo greatly. “Does the captain have evening attire for the soiree at Castle Lorcathian this evening?”
“I believe so.” Mrs. Grimoult looked down, smoothing her apron, not meeting the eyes of her mistress. “Have you told him about the—”
“Enough.” Indigo held up an imperious hand. “I will tell him when the time is right.”
“Very well, Madame.” Mrs. Grimoult bustled from the room.
Indigo laughed at the disapproving look on her housekeeper’s face. Moving across the chilly room to the chair beside the window she sat, chin in hand, looking out at the Atlantic Ocean, wondering for the umpteenth time why her crew had disappeared and where they were.
ZANE SAUNTERED INTO the salon as the last blood red rays of the setting sun shot from the horizon. Tight lipped, Indigo looked at him from head to foot. Dressed beautifully in golden breeches tucked into high, buckled boots, the outfit was topped with a gold embossed smoking jacket, and the captain looked the epitome of elegance. A large, brass, cogged timepiece hung from a golden chain around his neck, matching the brass goggles on top of his head.
“It is a pleasure to finally have your company, Captain.” Indigo welcomed him, keeping her face expressionless and her hand across her bare neck, concealing the fast beating pulse in her throat.
“No, Madame, the pleasure is mine,” he drawled. “May I say how fetching you look this evening?”
Indigo burst out laughing, appreciating his blatant admiration of her attire. Dressing with deliberation, she had planned to upset the equilibrium of Duke Lorca this evening. A prudish stickler for convention, it was rumored the sight of a piano leg would offend him. Servants draped shawls over the offending furniture in the castle. The sight of her, scandalously attired in an incestuous clinch with her supposed brother would distress the priggish duke, distracting him from the attention of Mr. Henry Cole.
“Come, dear brother, it is time to leave and seek out our information.” Indigo flashed the captain an appreciative smile.
Wisps of mist puffed from their mouths in the icy air as they hurried to the streamlined scarab vehicle for the short journey to the castle. Mr. Grimoult hovered around the vehicle, flipping back the glass roof of the sleek three-wheeled contraption with a brass hook. Zane proffered a hand to assist Indigo and a frisson of warmth shot up her arm as his strong fingers brushed hers, distracting her from the task in hand.
“I will drive,” she announced crossly. Zane smiled and deferred to her, mo
ving across to the passenger side, pulling the brass goggles over his eyes. Sitting with him in the confined space of the vehicle sent sharp thrills coursing through her body and she attempted to ignore the effect his proximity appeared to have on her traitorous limbs. Pulling out the brass stops on the ornate dashboard with shaking fingers, she laughed loudly as loud shots of steam hissed from the large pipes coiled on each side of the vehicle. Zane jumped in surprise, grabbing the support bar in front of the sloping glass screen as the vehicle shot forward at great speed. Roaring down the cobbled road to Castle Lorcathian, Indigo glanced across the road to the ocean. The wind was still gusting strongly and the water was decked with white-capped waves. She smiled when she saw there was no steam carriage waiting at the end of the road for the guests. The duke obviously expected them to walk across the suspension bridge in the wintry winds which swirled in off the ocean. Putting the scarab into overdrive, the wheels folded up underneath the chassis as the airlift engaged. The vehicle flew over several well-dressed guests who clung bravely to the sides of the swaying rope bridge, hundreds of feet above the angry waves crashing on the rocks below.
“You certainly enjoy living dangerously, Madame,” the captain commented.
Glancing across at him, she smothered a laugh. His posture was stiff, white knuckles still gripping the bar even as their speed slowed. Perspiration trickled past his collar despite the cold. The poor man had experienced a wealth of new technology in her manor house over the past day and Indigo smiled at the thought of the voyage ahead of him later tonight.
The scarab stopped outside the entry to the Grand Hall with a final hiss of steam. Waving the duke’s valet away with a dismissive hand, she reminded Zane of his role. “Just follow my lead as we planned. You should enjoy the evening. If our plan works, we should get what we want from Mr. Cole in a timely fashion. The Grimoults are preparing the Artemis for departure now and we shall depart for the Amazon as soon as we return from here.”
Indigo and Zane entered the Grand Entrance Hall of Castle Lorcathian, arms entwined. Several demurely clad matrons sitting on cloth-shrouded furniture gaped at Indigo’s attire. Shocked gasps were heard across the hall as she strutted over to join the duke, her voluptuous body the center of attention. Leopold stood with a tall man in a far corner hidden by large ferns. Wearing a morning suit with a top hat, holding a monocle against one eye, the man had the appearance of an important dignitary. Indigo broke away from Zane and tapped Leopold on the shoulder. As the duke turned, Indigo reached over, took his heavily bejeweled hand and placed it firmly against her breast. Bending down, she leaned into him, placing her open mouth on his slimy lips, hiding the revulsion that coursed through her veins. She thought of inserting her tongue; however, she decided she would rather lose her entire enterprise than sink to those depths.
“Leopold, dahling,” she drawled, keeping her voice bored. “What a wonderful occasion. Thank you so much for our invitation.”
The duke pulled back from her grip with a surprised gasp, his face reddening as her breasts wobbled under his chin. Her ruby red corset fit her like a glove, and when Indigo leaned forward the tips of her dusky pink nipples were just visible. The steel bars pushed her bosom upward, further enhancing her cleavage. She watched with delight as Leopold’s gaze traveled down to the sheer lace skirt brushing her mid thigh, exposing bare legs clad in high black boots. Her satisfaction grew as his ruddy complexion deepened and his bulbous nose turned purple as he struggled for words. The duke truly was an ugly little man, both inside and out.
“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Indigo flicked Leopold’s cheek with a finger bared by fingerless lace gloves. The duke bowed rigidly, turning to the tall man beside him. “Mr. Henry Cole, may I present to you Madame de Vargas y Irausquínno.”
“A pleasure, Mr. Cole. I believe we have some business to discuss.” Turning her back on Leopold, she took the arm of the speechless Mr. Cole, before walking him across to the long windows on the far side of the room. Delighted to hear more gasps of displeasure from the Victorian matrons, Indigo engaged Mr. Cole in an immediate discussion of the forthcoming Great Exhibition.
She remained aware of the intense interest the duke was displaying in their conversation. Keeping Leopold in her sight as he stared intently from the other side of the large room, she noticed when he summoned Brixton with a snap of his fingers. The duke hissed instructions into the little man’s ear, not taking his eyes off Indigo and Mr. Cole, who remained deep in conversation. Brixton moved across the room, sidling across to stand behind Indigo, his pointy ears twitching. Zane came up behind the little servant, winking at Indigo as he gripped the little man’s arm.
“Brixton, I believe?” Zane held the little arm in an iron grip. “Come, my man, I would like an introduction to the duke, as my dear sister is otherwise occupied. I am Captain Zane de Vargas y Irausquínno.” He dragged the small man back across the room to the duke.
As the little man squeaked over the introduction, Henry Cole laughed heartily and Leopold glared across the room. Mr. Cole reached down, took Indigo’s hand, and placed it against his lips.
“I wish you all the best with your enterprise, Madame,” Mr. Cole’s imposing voice boomed across the room.
Indigo winked at him and walked back to the small group of interested onlookers surrounding the duke, her hips moving in an exaggerated sexy sway. She smiled at the captain willing him to keep a straight face. With a bored look at Leopold, Indigo leaned against Zane, running her fingers down the front of his tight breeches. “Come, brother, the entertainment is sadly lacking here tonight. Take me home. Together we will make our own pleasure.” Reaching up, she placed her hands on each side of Zane’s face, placing her lips on his, smiling as Leopold spluttered next to her.
“Disgraceful, incestuous behavior, Madame!” His face colored as red as Indigo’s corset, knotty veins appearing above his frilled collar. “Be gone. You are not welcome in my abode, any longer.” The duke threw them one last disgusted look and grunted rudely, before stalking over to rejoin Mr. Cole.
Walking through the Grand Entrance Hall, Indigo waggled her fingertips as she bid farewell to the speechless guests.
Looking down at her with admiration as they passed through the castle entrance, the captain appeared most impressed. “By God, Madame, you should be on the stage.”
She nodded at him briefly, her heart still pounding from their kiss. His taste lingered on her lips and Indigo’s nipples tightened as his eyes locked with hers. It was too soon, much too soon.
There was no time for dalliance. Not yet.
Her flirtatious demeanor disappeared and she responded impatiently as they entered the scarab.
“You can drive.” She sat back, waiting impatiently for the vehicle to move. Pulling out three brass stops on the dashboard before the vehicle rose, the vehicle flipped on its side and teetered over the edge as it roared across the suspension bridge.
“Jesus, man,” Indigo yelled above the roar of the steam, “Are you trying to kill us?”
“I’m a submariner, not a landlubber.” The captain laughed, fiddling with the brass speed stops. The vehicle left the bridge and rose, gaining height, and flew above the road at a great speed. Approaching the manor, Indigo reached over and pulled a lever under the dashboard. A camouflaged door rose vertically in front of them and Zane steered the scarab through the entry with a whisker to spare on either side.
INDIGO’S EXPECTATION that the Grimoults would be ready to leave on their return received a setback as she followed Zane from the vehicle storage room. Mr. and Mrs. Grimoult sat in a small salon at the end of the corridor, drinking tea. When she strode across to the table, Zane caught her arm, pulling her back.
“Now, don’t go off half-cocked before I explain to you what is happening,” he said.
Indigo glared at him, shaking his hands away angrily. Her anger grew as the Grimoults smiled at each other.
“Before you explain?” Her voice was ominously quiet
.
“Yes, there are things that must be said before we embark on this voyage. If you want the expedition to succeed, sit down and pour yourself a cup of tea while I explain,” said the captain.
Mrs. Grimoult hurriedly picked up the teapot, pouring a cup of fragrant tea for her mistress. Zane pulled out a chair, placed his hands on Indigo’s shoulders and pushed her down onto the chair, none too gently.
“Stop the mouthing. I know that the visit to the castle gave you the information you were seeking. Now it’s time to share everything, both ways”
“Just who are you?” Indigo spat the words at him as her bottom hit the chair.
“I am Captain Zane Thoreau. That is my real name. I am an excise man, working for the government seeking illegal traders. The Comptroller General has information about the flowers in your complex. You are under investigation for illegal importation.”
“Get out.” Indigo screamed at him and rose from the chair, lunging at him, her fists balled.
“Madame,” Mr. Grimoult interjected. “Please listen to the captain.”
She paused, turning to her two faithful retainers with a look of dismay. “Please don’t tell me you already knew this?”
“Would you please listen to me?” Zane ran his hand through his hair. “I will explain and then you can decide if you want me to leave or navigate your vessel. It is to your advantage I pilot your vessel. It does not affect me one way or the other.”
Indigo sat back in her chair and reached for her teacup, her hand shaking with rage. Her eyes locked onto his, all thoughts of passion gone in an instant.
“You have five minutes, captain. Be warned, I do not like deceit.”
The captain spoke quietly. Indigo calmed and her confidence returned, her heart resuming a normal beat. Sitting back, she sipped her tea and listened intently as the captain explained why he had come to her door last evening.