Winter of the Passion Flower (The de Vargas Family) Read Free Page A

topped with a soft uncollared shirt,
the short sleeves barely covering his small biceps. Mr. Grimoult noticed her
disapproval and his face colored.
     “I didn’t think to change back,
Madame. I returned with haste. I did not expect we would have company.”
    “Not quite company,” Indigo said shortly.
“No matter. We have more important things at hand.” Indigo waved a dismissive
hand as the perambulator door slid open once more. Mrs. Grimoult stepped out
with a silver tray holding a plate of Turkish delight, a large jug of mulled
wine and three goblets, and then walked across with her head lowered before
placing the tray on the table.
    Indigo stood quietly for a moment as the
captain examined their surroundings. A considerable sum spent during a recent
voyage to visit Sofia in Paris had equipped her sanctum with the most modern
technological devices. In the center of the inner circle, two analytical
engines with large black glass rectangles covered with brass knobs sat side by
side. A tray with the letters of the alphabet inscribed in a peculiar mix of
buttons sat on the table in front of each engine. A periscope head hung from
each side and an ornate timepiece, comprised of coils of copper wire and brass
screws, with a small light bulb on each side, sat next to each of the alphabet
rectangles.
    Indigo observed the captain as he moved
around the room, examining the equipment. His fingers played with the alphabet
tray and he took a hurried step backward when a picture of a submarine with a
fish shaped prow appeared in a series of colored lights on the black glass. She
let him explore for a few moments, and then tapped her fingers on the table
impatiently.
    “Sit down, Captain, we don’t have much
time.” Looking across at Mrs. Grimoult, a silent message passed between the two
women. Mrs. Grimoult nodded and entered the perambulator; the door slid shut
and the machine descended noisily. Indigo sat at the head of the table and then
looked pointedly at the captain as Mr. Grimoult poured the wine into the
elaborate goblets. “All right, Mr. Thoreau, Zane or Captain Dogooder or whoever
you may be, you can start with your explanation. Why are you here and what do
you want with me?”
    She regretted her words as soon as they left
her lips, unsure if it was his proximity or the level of her worry causing her
heart to pound erratically. Her breathing quickened as she awaited his reply.
Attempting to meet his eye, Indigo noted the captain’s gaze fixed on the top of
her bustier, and folded her arms across her cleavage when he replied.
    “I received an urgent missive from Edward,
your captain. He advised you were in need of immediate assistance with your
next shipment and that you required a master for the Artemis . I have no
idea of your cargo, or your destination, however I would trust Edward with my
life. I am available immediately, as my vessel is currently under repair.”
    Mr. Grimoult interrupted. “Madame, if I may
speak? Zane is trustworthy. We were in the merchant navy together. His nickname
is well deserved.” He turned to the captain, smiling. “I would trust Captain
Dogooder with my life.”
    “And I am here simply to offer my
services,” he said, but Indigo felt his smile was a little too innocent. She
was slow to trust; the death of her father in the Amazon had left her wary of
ever trusting readily again. She sat staring the captain as her mind worked
furiously. All would be lost without one more voyage. It would be necessary to
trust him and Mr. Grimoult seemed certain of the man’s worth.
    Rising slowly from her chair, she moved
around the table, turning her back to him. “Unlace me.”
    The captain sat without moving, his face
expressionless.
    “Go ahead, lad. Do as Madame says,” said
Mr. Grimoult.
    Zane rose, pushing the chair aside. He paused,
fingers brushing against the ribbon lacing at the back of her bustier. Indigo
raised one shoulder, waiting for him to undo the ruby colored lace at the