of his estate in wait for his Gabriel, who is a notorious recluse. I don’t know him well, but I feel an odd sense of duty to warn him.”
Felicity scrutinized the Duchesse. “Why would you feel a duty to—”
“I’ll do it.” Mercy stood so quickly, she became a bit lightheaded, whether from the heat of the crowded manse or the sudden pounding of her heart, she couldn’t be sure.
She blinked away the sensation before all but yanking Felicity out of her seat.
“You and the Duchesse should go for the authorities without alerting anyone. I think there will be violence here tonight.”
“Erm...” Felicity gulped and looked at the floor, her face flushing behind her mask.
“What is it?”
“Don’t be angry.”
A pang of anxiety thrummed deep in her stomach. “Felicity.”
“I engaged an errand boy before we left, and sent a note to Morley the moment we arrived.”
“What?” She forced the word out through clenched teeth.
Felicity put her hands up as if to ward off a blow. Or a gunshot. “I know you didn’t want that, but, Mercy, it was foolhardy for us to walk into such a situation without anyone knowing where we are. The moment we arrived I sensed danger, and who better to turn to than our reasonable and protective brother-in-law?”
“Felicity, you have no idea what you’ve done.” Mercy threw her hands in the air. “Morley is still obligated to take Raphael into custody.”
“Raphael? Why would you be worried about...” Felicity cocked her head in a very sparrow-like gesture. “You say his name as if you’re acquainted. Mercy, are the two of you...involved?”
Oh Lord. She was entirely unprepared to answer a question of that scope. “No! Well... Yes. That is—I—we—”
“Mon Dieu.” The Duchesse covered her mouth. “You’re in love with him.”
“I never!” The protest rang false, even to her own ears.
She felt rather than saw the Duchesse lift a dubious eyebrow from behind her mask. “Lovers, then?”
Mercy’s lips slammed together. She couldn’t bring herself to deny it. To lie. And yet, how could she explain? If he was involved with Mathilde, then would the poor grieving Duchesse have her heart broken all over again to hear of it?
“You made love to the man arrested for Mathilde’s murder?” It was Felicity’s eyes that carried the gravest of wounds. “And worse, you didn’t tell me?”
It was the first secret ever kept between them.
Mercy took her twin’s hand. “I met him in front of the wolf exhibit yesterday and he asked if he could come to me... I—I couldn’t resist him. And also, I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. Not when things are so complicated. But I promise you I’m not being sentimental when I tell you that I know he’s innocent of this crime. I have evidence.”
Felicity pulled her hand away. “But he’s guilty of a thousand other crimes! Or don’t you remember the night he might have killed us for the gold Nora’s late husband stole from him?”
“He gave that to Titus and Nora’s hospital,” Mercy pointed out.
“It was no gift. He said he’d collect on the balance, remember? I think of that every day. What sort of debt Honoria and Titus might find themselves beholden to? When will he come for our sister?”
“He won’t.” Mercy’s defense of him sounded pallid and desperate, even to her own ears. “He wants out of the Fauves. The gang was his father’s, and he was born to this life, but his plan is to leave it all behind.”
To leave her behind.
She turned to the Duchesse. “I suspect that has something to do with his reckless behavior tonight. I think...I think he might be trying to destroy what his father built.”
“Mercy, you’re speaking madness!” Felicity shook her a little.
“No...she’s not,” the Duchesse shocked them both into silence with her words. “Gabriel and Raphael Sauvageau’s father was known as le Bourreau. The executioner. He was said to have been an Englishman of some renown, though no one knew his identity. He was infamous in Monaco and France, indeed, all over the Mediterranean. I know that he used his family awfully, and broke his eldest son in the fighting pits.”
Felicity wrapped her arms around her middle, shaking her head in disbelief. “How do you know all this?”
Mercy wondered that as well.
The Duchesse’s chin gave a tremulous wobble. “Because le Bourreau hurt Mathilde. Showed her...unnatural affections when she was just a girl, even though she was the daughter of his wife’s sister, Patrice.”
Mercy gasped in horror for poor Mathilde. “You mean...”
“Yes, Mathilde and Raphael are—were cousins. This