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

one is he?”
    “The one with the moustache,” replied Eloise breathlessly,
“but don’t look straight at him or he will know we’re talking about him.”
    Isabella smiled to herself. She knew some stories she
could tell Eloise. Many daughters of officers would make the journey to India to find themselves a husband. Many of them became engaged before the journey was
over. More than once she’d heard her father speak of the “husband-hunters” in
an angry tone.
    “Why do they make you so cross, Papa?” She’d been eleven.
“Isn’t it nice for them to have wives with them?”
    Her father had peered at her over his paper-strewn desk.
    “Not when I’ve got to look after a new wife as well as a
new soldier. You know how hard it can be for the new men out here. Imagine what
it’s like for the women. Most of them are little more than girls.”
    All the British soldiers posted to their camp were felled
by the heat; heat that chewed them up and spat them out. They would either die
of dysentery or plain old heatstroke; or they survived and became thinner and
tougher, their eyes permanently narrowed against the sun. These were the men who
would make India their home.
    Men like her father.
    Isabella glanced over at the group around the card table
again. They looked so young, their skin pink and white, their faces smooth and
unlined.
    “Like lambs to the slaughter,” she murmured, unaware for a
moment that she had spoken aloud.
    “Did you say something?” Rose was leaning in towards her
with a funny look on her face.
    Isabella’s cheeks flamed again. “No, sorry. I was miles
away.” She reached for her drink, hoping to hide her confusion.
    Livia handed her some cards.
    “Here you are, I’ll show you what to do.”
    “I say, if we took you to that bazaar thingy, could you
try and make me a love potion?”
    Isabella laughed and the others laughed with her; the
awkward moment was broken.
    “Yes, Eloise. All right.”
    “Excellent. Tomorrow after breakfast, then?” Eloise turned
to Livia. “Will your mother let you come if Mama chaperones us?”
    Livia took a deep breath.
    “She might. I can try.”
    “I heard you was engaged, Miss Livia.” Midge was
organising his cards so he didn’t notice Livia’s hands go still and Rose’s eyes
snap upwards, like a turtle’s.
    “Who told you that?”
    Midge put down a queen.
    “I think it was Billy Leadbetter.”
    Isabella kicked Midge under the table. Livia’s eyes jumped
to where her mother sat with Lady Molesey and took a deep breath.
    “It’s all right, Isabella. He’s right.”
    “Livia!” Rose’s voice was shocked and her little eyes
moved this way and that from worry.
    “I know, Rose. You and I have talked of it, but I want to
see what Isabella thinks.”
    “About what?”
    “About my arranged marriage.”
    “I heard you got a picture,” said Midge placing a jack
down on the table.
    Isabella frowned. Where did he get his information from?
Livia looked at Rose who burrowed in her pockets and took out a miniature and
gave it to Livia. Wordlessly Livia handed it to Isabella. It was of a man in
full army dress. He was mostly in profile but there was no mistaking the
ice-cream slump of his shoulders or the caving of the cheeks around the beaky
nose; the sunken eyes. Isabella swallowed and looked back at Livia.
    “He’s too old for you.”
    Maybe Livia had been expecting her to say something polite
and Isabella’s directness caught her unawares, but Livia’s chin wobbled and
crimson crept up her neck to her face.
    “Now look what you’ve done,” hissed Rose. She fished out a
handkerchief.
    “I haven’t done anything. Why would Livia, who looks as if
she could marry anyone she likes, have to marry this old man?” Isabella could
feel her cheeks growing hot with the injustice of it.
    “Because he’s a duke,” hissed Rose again.
    “So?” Isabella glared at Rose. She didn’t like the way
Rose looked at her.
    Livia’s voice was like rain on