Dancing With Danger (Goode Girls #3) - Kerrigan Byrne Page 0,11
he didn’t disembark again. He’ll be in France by now.”
“I know.” Mercy pursed her lips. Lips that still tasted of Raphael, even hours later. Lips she kept pressing her fingertips to, remembering the pressure of a startling—searing kiss.
No. She couldn’t let that indiscretion derail her. She had a murder to solve. Even Detective Eddard Sharpe didn’t allow the sultry Miss Georgina Crenshaw to distract him in the middle of a case.
“You...found Mathilde’s dead body?” Felicity sniffed as if holding in a torrent of emotion. “Are you all right? Was there blood? Did she suffer?”
Mercy wanted to spare her sister the answers to her rapid-fire questions, but her twin always knew when she was lying. “No blood. But yes, her death was... a violent one. Someone throttled her, and broke her neck.”
Felicity released her hand to slide her fingers to her own neck. “Do you think it was her lover? Did you ever find out who he was?”
“You’ll never guess,” Mercy said, admittedly gorging a bit on the drama of it all.
“Tell me.”
“Raphael Sauvageau.” The name tasted lush on her tongue.
Just as he had.
Her sister blanched as pale as startled milk.
Felicity was, no doubt, remembering the night at the docks when she’d stumbled into Gabriel Sauvageau’s arms. The man had been wearing a wicked mask and brandished a long, sinister blade.
He’d not cut her. In fact, he’d not hurt her in the least.
But they couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t have, had the night gone differently.
“What’s this about Raphael Sauvageau?” Pru asked, approaching with a knobby, bent officer whose age dictated that the largest responsibility he could handle was the keys.
“Found with the dead body, he was,” the sergeant rasped, shaking his finger at the door as if the man in question stood there. “You’re lucky he didn’t slit your throat before he escaped the prison cart. Or worse.” He eyed Mercy with a grandfatherly warning.
“He was arrested with you?” Pru gasped.
“And he escaped?” Felicity cried at the same time.
“In the wind, that one. Unlikely we’ll ever catch him again.” Sgt. Treadwell attempted to thread the key into the lock three times before the tremors in his liver-spotted hand would allow it.
Mercy waited until they’d thanked the officer, who released her with a stern word and told her that Trout had dropped all charges when he learned who her family was.
No doubt, the inspector didn’t want to be the man who’d struck Chief Inspector Carlton Morley’s sister-in-law.
The she struck me first argument didn’t hold much water.
Once they’d bundled into the coach, Mercy regaled them with the horrors of the afternoon as quickly as she could, knowing that once she got home, she’d have to spend at least an hour in the bath to scrub the day away.
She told them about everything.
Everything...but the kiss.
Their eyes were both big and round as the full moon when she finished her tale, and no one spoke for a full half minute.
It was Felicity who broke the silence. “Do you think the Fauves supplied Mathilde with all the...medicines she took?”
“Who else?” Mercy surmised. “They’re brigands and we know they’ve smuggled cocaine before. Let us not forget the inconsiderate bastards didn’t spring me from the prison cart. They left me there!”
“Yes, their most heinous crime, indeed.” Pru chuffed out a little laugh as she studied Mercy with a quick, level look. “Did he truly break Trout’s nose?”
“Possibly his jaw...and a few fingers.” Mercy wondered how a man’s features could be both savage and eerily blank all at once as he methodically put Trout in his place. “Sauvageau threatened to break every bone below the man’s elbow.”
“Did he?” Pru’s lips quirked in a faint smile. “It sounds to me like he fancies you.”
“I agree.” Felicity nodded.
“Fancies me?” Mercy huffed, sliding her palms against one another, wishing they’d not taken her gloves on such a cold day. “Over the corpse of his freshly murdered lover? I don’t care if he is the handsomest rake in the empire, I’d not consider such a thing in this lifetime.”
Felicity chewed on the inside of her cheek, her eyes looking at some distant spot outside the window. “So, his brother leapt onto the carriage, picked the padlock, and sprang him without the drivers knowing? That sounds rather...Well, it’s a bit extraordinary, isn’t it? Like something out of an adventure novel.”
“Extraordinarily infuriating is what it was.” Mercy swatted Felicity’s knee. “Or did you forget the part where they left me there? It’s not funny!”
“I’m not laughing,” Pru said from behind her hand as her shoulders