Winter of the Passion Flower (The de Vargas Family) (4 page)

“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, moving 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.