Winter of the Passion Flower (The de Vargas Family) Read online

  “Keep your eyes on the track, woman,” he growled. “We have come this far. I don’t want to die in a vehicle that’s not even steam-powered.”

  Her driving skills and the steep descent enabled them to complete their journey down the mountain road in a much shorter time than the outward journey.

  “What time is it?” Indigo slowed the vehicle as the outskirts of the township appeared. “See if you can raise Mr. Grimoult for a revised departure time.”

  Zane did not move and looked across at her.

  “Please,” she added.

  He flipped open the chronometer and a series of dots and dashes clicked away. The reply was instant.

  “First window for departure is in twelve minutes—” he said as the clicks continued “—and the next is in forty eight hours.”

  “Tell him to surface now. We can make it.” She accelerated and shouted a warning at him. “Hang on to your hat, captain.”

  His head hit the back of the seat as the vehicle surged forward. “I’m not wearing a hat.”

  Their progress slowed as they approached the town center. It was market day in the portside town, with crowds of shoppers spilling onto the road. Colorful stalls lined the footpaths and animals wandered along with their herders, blocking the road. Children darted in and out of the stalls, forcing Indigo to slow the vehicle to a crawl.

  “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” Indigo muttered under her breath. Spotting a gap between two stalls, she swung the vehicle between them driving down a narrow alleyway. With barely an inch to spare between the vehicle and the walls of the building, she turned onto the main road toward the harbor.

  “We will have to leave the vehicle at the marina. We don’t have time to secure it.” She planted the accelerator once more. “Climb over to the back and get the stamens,’’ she ordered. “Please,” she added with a quick glance at him.

  She swung the vehicle into the car park of the marina, narrowly missing two men standing on each side of the entry. Stopping close to the water’s edge, Indigo jumped out of the vehicle and Zane passed her one of the crates. Clutching them, they ran for the end of the pier. Suddenly, shouts and thudding footsteps came from behind them. A ray of light whistled past Indigo’s head, bouncing off the post in front of her. It exploded in a white flash. She screamed at Zane.

  “Run—run quickly, they have ray guns!”

  A cloud of steam rose in front of them, and they ran into the fog, which hid them from their pursuers. The brass fin of the Artemis broke the water at the end of the pier and Indigo grabbed for Zane’s hand and they jumped for their lives as a stream of rays flashed past their heads.

  Chapter 5

  Indigo stood quietly in the doorway of the guest room, looking across at the four-poster bed. The side curtains were open and Zane’s body was hidden beneath the covers. His soft breathing broke the silence as she moved across the room closer to the bed. Black hair and tanned skin contrasted with the virginal white of the feather pillows and the soft lace edgings of the covers were at odds with the angry scratches on the side of his face.

  Indigo moved across to the side of the bed, and she watched him sleep.

  I must take care. This man is dangerous to me in more ways than I could possibly have imagined.

  Strength of character, integrity and a gentle nature. A dangerous combination.

  Indigo enjoyed flouting acceptable social norms, and was frequently criticized by members of high society. This afforded great amusement to her as those same people did not hesitate to make use of her elite holiday facilities. Now, she remained wary of the relationship forged with the captain over the past two days. Zane respected her opinions and challenged her, which was a new experience for her. Nevertheless, she was not going to pass up the opportunity of a handsome man in a bed in her guest room, particularly after experiencing such a pleasant interlude at the waterfall.

  Pulling back the covers, Indigo climbed into the bed beside him. She sighed with pleasure when her legs encountered the roughness of warm, hair-covered limbs. Zane woke slowly as she pressed her breasts to his side, and Indigo looked up to meet dark eyes, still hazy with sleep. “Good morning, my captain. I trust you slept well?”

  Her captain smiled down at her. “I did, Madame.”

  “I have a proposition I wish to discuss with you.”

  “Hmm,” he murmured as his mouth moved toward hers. “And this discussion could not wait until we breakfasted?”

  “Perhaps I have two propositions,” she murmured against his lips. “I believe we can get one out of the way before we rise.”

  Before he could answer, Indigo climbed across and straddled him. Reaching up, she pulled the red lace nightgown over her head and threw it aside. He was instantly ready for her, cupping a full breast in each hand as she flung her head back, letting her tight, wet womanhood accept him. She arched to meet each possessive thrust and he delved deeper into her with each rhythmic movement. Urgent hands held her hips and she leaned down to him, gazing at dark, dark eyes, enjoying the feel of the smooth ripple of muscle beneath warm bare skin. Indigo moved against him, hot, wet and abandoned as her pleasure increased. She cried out with unabashed delight as she reached her final shattering release, sucking in gasps of air as spasms of delight rocked through her. Zane quickly followed, groaning long and low as his pulsing life flooded her. Lying side by side, their labored breathing gradually returned to normal.

  “May I ask what the second proposition is, Madame?” Exploring fingers trailed down her body and Indigo turned to him, aware of her breasts pushed against his hard muscled chest.

  “Unfortunately, dear captain, the second proposition is of a business nature. We must not dally any longer as we have much to do.”

  Indigo ran her fingers along the scratches on his arms. “And this is the first thing we must deal with. Before we do, I need to tell you a little more about our venture.”

  She sat up and leaned against the feather pillows as her fingers played idly with his hair.

  “My father was a forward thinking man for his time and spent his life experimenting with pharmacologicals. He had experimented with the healing properties of the passionflower and was killed just as he discovered the strength of the blooms from the future.”

  She paused and looked down at Zane.

  “I have continued and expanded his research. Mr. Grimoult was on the navy ship that escorted the last expedition to the Amazon, and was the only other person privy to the knowledge that my father had overcome the temporal barriers.” She pushed the covers back, rose from the bed and walked across to the window. On the same level as the viewing room the magnificent vista overlooked the stormy sea.

  “My younger sister, Sofia has vowed to continue his work with the moonflower once she leaves her school in Paris and I am determined to see his work with the passionflower come to fruition at the Great Exhibition.” She held both hands out to him. “Are you now satisfied why we had to travel to the future to get the last of the blooms?”

  Zane reached up to her with a lazy smile on his face

  “I am very satisfied, Madam.”

  When she arose for the second time that morning, Indigo led Zane to a small room adjacent to the guest room to draw a hot bath. There were washrooms beside each bedroom in her manor, as she paid more attention to personal hygiene than was the social norm. Zane joined her for a most pleasurable bath in steaming hot water pumped from the intricate brass faucets. A steam device for warming the drying cloths interested the captain greatly.

  “Designed by Mr. Grimoult,” Indigo explained.”He has developed many devices since his retirement. I am most fortunate to have him in my employ.”

  Opening an ornate marbled cabinet, Indigo withdrew a small glass vial filled with a pale blue lotion. She inserted a wooden spatula, smearing it with the sweet-smelling lotion. “Hold out your arms,” she requested. “You will be about to experience the healing properties of the blue passionflower.”

  Mrs. Grimoult was laying the bre
akfast dishes onto the warming tray as the captain and Indigo entered the breakfast room together. Indigo glared as she saw her housekeeper wink at Mr. Grimoult and the little woman returned to her kitchen with a wide smile on her face.

  “Mr. Grimoult, would you join us for breakfast? I would like you to advise me of the progress in the laboratory.”

  “Certainly, Madame.” The little man took a seat at the table with them as Mrs. Grimoult bustled back in with a large coffee pot.

  “The product we brought back last night has already been delivered to the laboratory. The first process has been completed overnight,” he advised.

  “Good, we are not too far behind schedule if that is the case.” Indigo turned, inhaling with pleasure as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filtered across the table. She frowned at Mrs. Grimoult, who scurried back to the scullery, a guilty look on her face.

  “I often wonder who is in charge of our household and voyages? It appears your wife found time for a foray to the market at Ilo?”

  Mr. Grimoult suddenly found the contents of his plate desiring his whole attention, squirming uncomfortably in the chair. “We took the utmost care, Madame. We were only on the surface long enough for Mrs. Grimoult to disembark.”

  “No matter, all is well,” replied Indigo. She turned to Zane. “Captain, if you accept my proposition, one of the side benefits is the fine cuisine Mrs. Grimoult creates from the exotic ingredients she collects on our voyages.”

  Indigo poured more coffee. “Captain, pull up your sleeves and show us your injuries.” Zane removed the chronometer, rolled back the cuffs of his fine linen shirt, eyes narrowing. Not a mark remained where the many scratches and cuts had covered his arms the previous day.

  “The passionflower lotion?”

  “Yes.” Indigo smiled. “Now, my dear captain, I would like to thank you for your perseverance and loyalty on our recent adventure. It will not go unrewarded.”

  Zane looked at her for a long moment without speaking. He finally nodded at her, his face expressionless. “I do not seek reward, Madame, in any shape or form.” His voice lingered on the word ‘shape.’ Mrs. Grimoult smothered another smile. Indigo glared at them all as Mr. Grimoult cleared his throat loudly, looking embarrassed.

  Examining his clear skin, Zane continued. “However, I can see you are much further advanced than I thought. The comptroller general believes you are illegally importing flowers for your complex. They have no idea that you are involved in pharmacological production, but--”

  She interrupted him, thumping her fist on the table. “No, Captain, it is not about flowers or pharmacologicals. My quest is to fight against despotic governance, and their oppression of any new pharmacologicals that can help our population improve their health, whether they be rich or poor. If you are willing, we can work together. That is my proposition, for you to join our cause and unite with me.” Zane began to speak but Indigo held up her hand. “Before you decide, I will show you our laboratory. Come.”

  Zane clutched at his stomach when the perambulator dropped quickly. Cogs whirred loudly as the door slid open to reveal a large scientific laboratory. Several workers in red coats glanced up curiously and nodded at their mistress. She returned their acknowledgment with a brief lift of her hand and they continued working.

  The laboratory ran the entire length of the manor. Not a bit clinical in appearance, its decor in keeping with the rest of the rooms; the walls were embellished with vivid colors and textures. Small groups of workers conducted experiments in each corner of the laboratory. A high glass wall facing the east allowed the morning sunlight to stream in, reflecting from a huge mirror on the ceiling, bathing row upon row of glass terrariums with sunlight. Large glass tanks filled with a variety of plants lined the side walls, overhung with tubular glass containers filled with the familiar blue passionflower vines.

  “As you can see, the tropical temperature is maintained by the steam pipes.” Mr. Grimoult directed Zane’s attention to the ceiling where an intricate arrangement of brass piping protruded from each corner.

  “When the light is poor, we supplement it with luminiferous aether, the same principle we used on the Artemis.”

  Indigo walked across the room, beckoning Zane to follow. “Captain, look at this.” In the far corner of the laboratory a botanist in a white coat worked with a series of glass paraphernalia filled with steaming liquid. “This is the main production area. Once the stamen is broken down it undergoes a process to extract the elixir, the main ingredient of our pharmacologicals.”

  The botanist ignored them and tipped a clear solution into a beaker. As it filled, he looked across at Mr. Grimoult. “Sir, I would ask that you speak to the captain of the submarine. The stamens were in poor condition. It looked as though they had been carried by hand.”

  “Ahem.” Mr. Grimoult stuttered. “There was a slight difficulty experienced on the voyage. I will speak to the crew and ensure all future shipments are in top condition for you.”

  “Come, gentlemen, we shall return to our discussion.” Indigo led them back to the perambulator. As she entered the breakfast room, Mrs. Grimoult handed Indigo two sealed parchments. “A messenger has delivered these for your attention, Madame.”

  Indigo opened the first way and groaned. “Oh no, it is Sofia.”

  Mrs. Grimoult looked up with concern. “Is she all right?”

  “Probably,” replied Indigo. “I do not know why pay exorbitant fees to that school in Paris. They cannot keep track of their students. She has disappeared…again.”

  Mrs. Grimoult smiled and Zane appeared to be following the exchange with interest. Indigo turned to him to explain.

  “My half sister has an interest in the haute couture and would prefer to be in a draper’s shop rather than at school getting a fully rounded education.”

  Mrs. Grimoult interrupted. “To be fair to your sister, Madame, it is Gagelin and Opigez and she is with her friends.”

  Indigo snorted. “I would prefer her to be at school. Anyway, enough of my sister. If she does not return, I am sure they will send another letter.” She held out her hand to Mrs. Grimoult. “The other missive please?” Indigo quickly broke the seal after Mrs. Grimoult handed her the thick parchment, reading the message. “Hmm. A summons from the comptroller general. There is a meeting where I am to present my plans for the Great Exhibition. He wishes to ensure the local borough is adequately represented.”

  “That is a positive move.” Mr. Grimoult nodded.

  “It is. However, the comptroller has neglected to give much notice for the meeting. It is to be held this evening at the Market House in Tin Town.”

  “Shall I prepare the scarab, Madame?”

  “Please have it ready by four o’clock, Mr. Grimoult.”

  Mrs. Grimoult turned to Zane. “Oh I am sorry, Captain, there was a message for you also.”

  Quickly scanning his message, Zane looked at Indigo. “I will also be out this evening.” Indigo regarded him, curious as to the nature of his business.

  “Do not fear, Madame. You can trust me. I am committed to your cause and will do my utmost to support you in completing your project for the Great Exhibition.”

  * * * *

  Indigo drove slowly down the coast, enjoying the time alone. She parked the vehicle on a grassy knoll overlooking one of the scenic coves edging the ocean and sat for a time, pondering the dilemma she faced with the captain. For a change, the water was calm and had a tinge of blue reflected from the clear sky. As usual she drew her strength from the water and a peaceful calm descended on her.

  She had no doubts about the captain’s support. He had proven himself repeatedly during their adventures in the jungle. Her strong attraction to the man caused her most concern but she would not let that interfere with her quest. There was still much to complete; a dalliance may interfere with her ambition. Usually, her sexual conquests were purely for the fulfillment of her physical needs. This emotional connection concerned her greatly. Indigo did not know
how to proceed.

  It will prove dangerous to my well-being. I will leave him be from now on.

  A slight wind blew in form the water and a few small whitecaps began to appear on the glassy sea. Indigo sighed. For the first time since her father died, she felt a connection to another person and was unsure how to proceed. She forced the confusing thought away and pulled the bras starter and the scarab rose and sped swiftly above the road to Tin Town.

  The blood red sun dipped behind the horizon sending fingers of deep red across the twilight sky just as she brought the vehicle to a halt in the High Street. Indigo shivered and hoped it was not a premonition of ill to come.

  Throwing her brass goggles on the seat beside her, she gathered up her papers and strode out for the Market Hall under the light of gas lamps piercing the shadowy darkness of the street. The town looked grim and dirty as always. She placed the scarab controller in her small dilly bag, feeling in the side pocket for her knife. Her fingers closed over it and the cold blade reassured her. Goose bumps prickled down her arms and the hair rose on the back of her neck and she turned swiftly. A cold wind blew from the west, pushing leaves along the ground, the dry rustling breaking the eerie quiet. A blast of steam from the warming pipes in the gutter sent mice scurrying for cover, and a couple of dollymops leaned against the wall on the corner behind The Rattling Cat, waiting for customers.

  Indigo entered the front door and was surprised to find the hall empty with no furniture set up for a meeting. The back of her neck prickled again. More mice scurried into the dark corners as she made her way across the large room, her footsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards. She put her hand back into the small bag, clasping the handle of her knife.

  Something did not feel right.

  Looking around, a large mouse moved slowly toward her. She watched as it rose on its back legs, and its features took on the face of Mr. Brixton as the mouse got closer to her, devilish intent wrinkling his pointy face.