Page 13 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
When the carriage came to a stop outside Hyde Park, Faye’s pulse began to race. She left the carriage, only vaguely aware of the remarkable beauty of the park. She desperately wanted to hide away in one of the lush thickets there and tell Mayson that Lord Turlington simply had not ridden that day. But she was truly fearful of her cousin, and she knew that she and her mother would be in very grave danger if she returned to him with yet another failed task.
She wandered aimlessly through the park, lingering for a moment at Roach Pool, which was fed by several streams, like Ladywood Brook. It truly was a sight to behold, and under different circumstances, Faye could have stood there for hours, admiring the surrounding scenery. But she had a mission to fulfill, one which filled her with dread. All she wanted was to complete it and then flee from the park, back to the relative safety of her bedchambers.
After a few more moments of exploring, Faye found the path that Mayson had marked on the map he had given to her before departing for the park. She checked the pocket watch she had brought with her and saw that, if her cousin’s calculations were correct, the marquess should be traversing the riding path within the next ten minutes. She looked around, examining the trees clustered around the trail. It would not do for her to be standing in the middle of the path when the marquess rode up. He would see her right away, and he would surely be able to bring his horse to a halt in time.
Her stomach twisted with guilt as she pictured herself knowingly stepping out onto the trail and directly in the marquess’s path. Even if he was a seedy man, she did not feel good about making him believe that he had carelessly injured her. But there was another reservation in her mind. What if he did hurt her badly? What if her sudden appearance on the path spooked his horse so terribly that it trampled her and left her crippled or even dead? There was no guarantee that the marquess would stop to render aid, as Mayson presumed he would. He could leave her lying there, truly injured, and she could remain undiscovered for hours. And Mayson would never care enough to come looking for her. She was, indeed, potentially in grave danger.
With a shake of her head, Faye rushed toward the largest tree, which was large enough to hide her from view yet still allow her to and see the path clearly. To further disguise herself, she crouched down, holding onto the base of the tree with both hands to maintain her balance. No matter how dangerous the job was, she knew she had no choice but to comply with her cousin’s orders. Her mother’s fate was certain if she were to disobey Mayson or fail yet again. That was enough to give her the courage to go through with the task. She sighed, pressing herself against the trunk of the tree and waiting for the sound of an approaching horse.
She did not have to wait long. In the distance, she heard the distinct sound of hooves clomping along the ground. Judging by the rhythm of the steps, the animal and its rider were moving at a rapid pace, faster than Faye had expected. She shuddered, trying to repel images of being trampled by such a large beast. With a sigh, she braced herself.All I need to do is step out onto the path,she thought, grasping for any sliver of courage she could muster.The marquess will see me and stop in time so as not to injure me.
Unconvinced, but knowing she would soon be too late to act, Faye rose to her feet. Her heart pounded in her bosom, faster than the beating hooves that were quickly approaching her position. She closed her eyes and put one foot forward in the direction of the path just on the other side of the tree that had thus far concealed her. But before she could take that step, she was suddenly flying backwards. Her arms flailed as she tried to catch herself, but there was nothing to grab onto. She landed with a hard thump in a large muddy puddle that she hadn’t noticed earlier.
The impact stunned her, and she closed her eyes, wincing as a dull pain began in her hip where she had hit the ground. Her mission temporarily forgotten, she shook her head, opening her eyes and looking around to try to figure out what had happened. No tree root beneath her feet could have caused her to fall backwards in such a fashion. Besides, had she not felt a firm tug at the waist of her dress before she fell?
Her eyes soon settled on a gentleman dressed in all black. She stared at him in shock, straight into his brilliant, blue-green eyes, still struggling to comprehend the situation. The man to whom the mesmerizing eyes belonged was incredibly handsome, and Faye found herself utterly paralyzed by the sight, forgetting she was sitting in a puddle of mud. She stared into the man’s attractive face, unable to grasp a single thought, let alone speak to him.
A soft clicking sound broke the trance into which Faye had fallen. She blinked, shaking her head to try to clear her thoughts. As she did so, she saw a too familiar glint of silver. Her heart fell into her stomach as she saw a pistol being leveled just inches away from her temple. Her mind raced as she realized she was in danger. At the same moment, she recognized the man holding the weapon, and her stomach twisted into fierce knots. He was the same man she had encountered in the study at the masquerade ball at Turlington Manor.
What is he doing here?Her mind ran wild with all the possible reasons.Is he following me?She knew it was unlikely he was tracking her as, up until very recently, she had had nothing to do with any of the criminals or seedy individuals of London. But it was very odd to her that he had appeared in both the marquess’s study and now here, at the park, at the same time as her. Now, more than ever, she wondered exactly what was going on.
She shivered as the man took another step toward her. His gaze was intense and electrifying, and the mud drying on her dress was beginning to give her a chill. She could not read his expression, but he was studying her carefully, almost as though he knew her. That was impossible, of course. She knew they had only met on the night of the ball. Before that night, she had never met or encountered the man, nor even before her father had died, she was sure of it. So why was he looking at her as though he knew exactly who she was?
The man’s husky voice broke the silence, bringing her back from her thoughts.
“You may have eluded me at the Turlington masquerade ball,” he said, “but you will not escape me now.”
Despite the situation, Faye could not help the flare of indignation that rose within her. She was getting tired of men pushing her around and putting her in situations where she had to be afraid for her life. She wanted to demand that the man step away from her and tell him that, as the daughter of a late earl, she did not appreciate such treatment from a criminal such as himself. After all, she had done nothing illegal by simply being in the park, and he could not have guessed what her reason was for being there. She could threaten to report him to the authorities if he did not release her.
But before she could speak a single word, the man swiftly scooped her up into his arms, seemingly unaffected by the mud that immediately smeared from her dress to the breast of his jacket. She instantly tensed, fearing the worst. Did he plan to do unspeakable things to her and then leave her for dead in the furthest shadows of the park? Again, fear overtook all other emotions, and she thought frantically of a way to get away from the man.
He seemed to sense her body’s desire to flee. He pulled her tightly against him, putting his lips right against her ear.
“I must advise against you attempting anything stupid right now,” he said. “It would be most unwise of you. Simply cooperate and come with me, and everything will be fine.”
For a single, wild moment, Faye considered directly disobeying him. Surely, someone would hear her if she called for help. And even though he had the gun, she could kick him, as she had on the night of the ball. That might wound or surprise him, so she could get far enough away from him that he would deem giving chase too risky. But before she could enact either plan, she noticed two things. The first was that his pistol was now pressing firmly into her side. That stilled her instantly, as one wrong move could make him pull the trigger, even if he did not yet intend to. And the second was the scent of the sandalwood cologne he wore.
As soon as the smell hit her, Faye’s heart began to race for a reason other than fear. Her mind transported her back to the night of the ball and the dance she had shared with the mysterious man. His eyes had enthralled her, even with his face hidden behind a mask, and his scent was something she had known then she would never forget. Even at that moment, with the gun pressed right up against her, she felt heady as the fragrance filled her nostrils. She found herself looking into the man’s eyes once more, drifting closer and closer to getting lost within them.
She forced herself back into the present moment, scolding herself for her foolishness. Here she was, in the arms of a man who was holding her hostage with a weapon, and she had no idea if he intended to use it on her, and here she was, fantasizing about dancing with him. She choked back a bitter laugh as she briefly wondered if she had finally gone mad. To cover her momentary delusion, she forced herself to hold his gaze with as much bravery as she could muster.
“I will do as you say,” she said. “But please, put away the weapon.”
The man seemed surprised. He stopped moving, regarding her with an odd expression.
“I do not believe that would be prudent of me, miss,” he said as he began walking with her in his arms again. “However, if you are true to your word, and you do cooperate, I shall not have to use it.”
Chapter Ten
“I know exactly what you are thinking, your ladyship,” Thomas whispered as he felt the young woman’s body tense up. “And that is precisely the kind of stupid thing I am warning you not to do.”
The young woman’s eyes grew wide, and she searched his face for anything that would indicate to her his next move. Then, she relaxed, no doubt deciding she was best suited doing as he told her to do. For a moment, Thomas felt guilty for taking her hostage. The innocence in her eyes was too much to bear. But Thomas knew she could not be as innocent as she looked. Why would an innocent woman be crouching behind a tree, clearly lying in wait for the likes of Lord Turlington and muttering to herself about stepping out in front of his horse? This was the second time Thomas had seen her skulking about near the marquess. If he had harbored any doubts about her being Gabriella Dupont before, they had just been erased.
His adrenaline coursed through his body as he carried the spy to where his horse was hidden. He had only planned to do some spying of his own on Lord Turlington in the park that day. He had not counted on leaving with a hostage. Strangely, he found himself glad he had arrived when he did. He could not fathom why the woman would want to walk out in front of a racing horse on purpose, but he was certain she would have been killed instantly had she done so. He had saved her life, he was sure, and something in him was greatly relieved to have done so.
Reluctantly, Thomas eased Gabriella onto the ground when they reached his horse. Careful to keep the gun trained directly on her, he reached into his pocket and fished out the rope he kept tucked away there for just such occasions. With a gentle but adept motion, Thomas tied Gabriella’s hands behind her back. He frowned when she did not try to fight and pull her hands away from him. Such a practiced spy should not allow herself to be taken hostage so easily. Her hands did not even seem to possess the strength to break free from him even if she wanted to.
As he finished tying the knots, Thomas heard the woman utter a shaky sigh. He realized she must not be struggling against him restraining her because she had another plan. He spun her around to face him, looking her firmly in the eyes.
