Fever Quest: A Clean Historical Mystery set in England and India (The Isabella Rockwell Trilogy Book 2) Read Free

drifted to
the bottom of the lake, her hair a halo of gold in the water around her.
Isabella felt again the heart-stopping cold of the water and the heaviness of
her own limbs as she’d dragged Alix’s dead weight to shore. The images Isabella
had tried to banish every night since sprang fully formed into her mind: Alix’s
waxy skin, the mud under her fingernails, her stilled breathing.
    Midge’s touch was feather light on her arm, and the
pictures dispersed like steam off a teacup. Her cabin came back into view.
    “Sorry.” She smiled.
    “You were miles away. You still getting them dreams?”
    “Once in a while, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Don’t
worry.” She paused. “Shall we go and get some dinner if you’re feeling better?”
    But Midge walked past her as if he hadn’t heard her.
Isabella shook her head. He was always like this after he’d talked about Ruby.
He’d pretend his tears hadn’t happened, that he’d never been upset, but the
pain of loss wasn’t something that could be fobbed off like an unwelcome dinner
guest. It had a nasty habit of coming back when it was least expected, as well
she knew.

 

    “Don’t look now, but here comes Eloise.” Midge had
finished his pudding. Isabella looked up to see Eloise Molesey, a symphony of
yellow satin, making her way towards them. “I said, don’t look up,” he
hissed. It was too late. Eloise was upon them. She sat down without being
asked.
    “Now then, you two, I want you to come to the library
after dinner and meet some friends.”
    Isabella looked at Eloise. Eloise and her mother, Lady
Molesey, had been on Isabella’s voyage to England the year before and she and
Eloise had little liking for each other. However, since Isabella’s heroic
rescue of the heir to the throne of England, Eloise had been prepared to
overlook Isabella’s previous behaviour, so she could have a friend she might
boast about.
    “Who?” Isabella shovelled the last of her melon into her
mouth. Eloise wrinkled her nose.
    “Livia Denier and Rose Pelham.”
    Isabella looked up.
    “Isn’t Livia Denier the one who’s not allowed to do
anything? Kept locked in her cabin, or something awful.” Isabella chased the
last piece of melon around her bowl with her spoon.
    Eloise raised an eyebrow. “So you do pay attention
sometimes, Isabella.”
    Midge kicked her under the table.
    “I always listen to what you say, Eloise.”
    Eloise opened her fan and leaned forward.
    “Well for once you are right. Livia’s been given special
permission to come and play cards with us in the library. My mama knows her
mama and told her Livia’d be perfectly safe.”
    “Safe from what?” asked Midge, rolling melted candle wax
into pellets and frowning.
    “Oh, I don’t know, Midge,” Eloise replied dismissively.
    “I don’t want to play cards with a load of girls.” His
blond brows met in a scowl.
    “Well you can go to bed then,” snapped Eloise.
    For once, Midge was at a loss for words.
    The library was a long low-ceilinged room and the
walls line with books. Lanterns sat on the little card tables dotted around the
room, so each had its own island of light. Candles had also been lit and
outside a giant moon hung over the lights of Mombasa, and the scent of lemon
wafted through an open hatch. Shadows flickered on the books, and low murmurs
and hushed laughter came from the card tables around them. Servants in white
hurried back and forth with drinks and cards and cigars. Even though Isabella
had visited it a few times before, the room still felt very grown-up, as if
full of things that were completely unknown to her.
    “Oh look, there’s Mama.” Eloise pointed with her fan to a
table in a corner.
    Isabella heard Midge sigh under his breath as he took his
seat at the table and fiddled with the deck of cards whilst looking out the
window. Isabella, meanwhile, watched the door. She’d heard a great deal about
Livia Denier who, because of her spectacular beauty, was