Winter of the Passion Flower (The de Vargas Family) (10 page)

“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 breakfast
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.

A shape shifter! Lorca, you will stoop
to any level.