Page 38 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
“He is very charming and handsome,” she admitted. “But I do not believe that his interest in me extends beyond the work with which I am helping Lord Daleshire and him.”
The countess nodded her head eagerly.
“Believe me, my dear,” she said, “I know Thomas very well. He does not look at anyone in the same way that he looks at you. It is true that he cares about the safety and wellbeing of all the innocent people of London. But he does not fear for their safety as he clearly does yours. Trust me, Lady Faye, when I say he has feelings for you.”
Faye took a deep breath, unsure of how to react. The countess was certain of her beliefs, but Faye still knew it would not do to discuss such a matter. Even if they did have mutual feelings for one another, etiquette dictated it was not something to be discussed with someone she barely knew even though the countess was clearly very kind and genuine and seemed more than happy to make fast friends with Faye.
“Perhaps we shall see after our work together is done,” she said, trying to sound as casual as possible. But as she spoke, she realized just how much she hoped it would be the case.
The countess looked as dreamy as Faye felt. She did not know what her connection to Mr. Kenworthy was, apart from the work with which she helped him. But, in that moment, Faye thought that Lady Salisdene looked rather like a proud, wistful mother who is thinking about her beloved child.
“That really would be wonderful,” she said, looking at Faye hopefully. “Thomas is a good man, and he deserves to find a good wife and settle down. He has been through a great deal in his life, and he deserves to find happiness.”
Faye wondered what the countess meant. She recalled how compassionate Mr. Kenworthy had been when he told her that he understood how it felt to care deeply for someone. There had been a look in his eyes that told her he could, in fact, relate to her experience. But she did not know enough about him to understand exactlyhowhe knew what she was feeling. She realized it might be a good time to find out, assuming the countess would tell her. But, before she could ask, the carriage slowed and began its ascent up the winding drive leading up to the country seat of Lord Turlington, and Faye drew in a sharp breath.
Even from the end of the driveway, Faye could see the country manor had a grand, lavish garden. Shades of blue and pink Faye hardly knew existed in flowering plants stood out proudly amongst the greenery provided by tall shrubs around which they grew. The grounds at the front of the mansion were dotted with meticulously trimmed box hedges, some cut into fabulous shapes of animals. Faye marveled at the detail. Some of them even had various colored flowers that represented clothing the figures were wearing or objects the figures held or leaned against. In that moment, it was easy for her to forget what kind of man the marquess was.
“One would think that an upstanding, reputable family resided here,” Lady Salisdene said, echoing Faye’s thoughts almost precisely.
Faye nodded silently, fear twisting in her stomach. She quickly remembered that was not the case and that the marquess was both very dangerous and malicious. She prayed they would get through their time at the manor without incident, but, deep down, she feared they might not.
A footman was waiting for them when they disembarked from the carriage. He was tall and thin, and the expression on his face was one of a man who had a mouthful of something horribly bitter. She smiled warmly at him, unsurprised when his expression did not change. She exchanged a look with Lady Salisdene as the man led them into the house. They followed him down the dim, somewhat foreboding hallway of the marquess’s country manor, and Faye struggled to keep herself from visibly shuddering.
The butler awaited them further down the hallway. He, too, was very tall and slender, and he wore an expression identical to that of the footman. This time, Faye did not bother smiling, as the butler’s eyes were regarding her with a look fit to send chills up her spine. From beside her, the countess silently took her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. Faye smiled back, grateful the countess was there with her but wishing with her entire soul that she had never agreed to come to Lord Turlington’s party.
Wordlessly, the butler escorted them to a large, elegant drawing-room. It was empty save for the marquess, and Faye realized they had arrived hours early for the party. The trip had not taken quite as long as she had thought it would, and now the urge to flee and return to London immediately became almost overwhelming.
The marquess rose, glancing at Lady Salisdene questioningly. Faye held her breath, wondering if he had expected her to come alone. If he had, would he force the countess to leave?
Lady Salisdene curtseyed stiffly and gave the marquess a smile that did not reach her eyes.
“I do hope you do not mind,” she said coolly. “But I have come to act as Lady Faye’s chaperone in her mother’s stead. My husband received an invitation to your party, but he is otherwise engaged, unfortunately. We felt sure that you would not mind my attendance, instead.”
Lord Turlington surveyed her for a moment, his eyes calculating and chilling. Then, he gave her a smile that, to Faye, was far too wide.
“Not at all, my lady,” he said, bowing just as stiffly as the countess had curtseyed. “It is good to see Lady Faye is in such good company.”
Faye could not help noticing the sarcasm in his voice. She cleared her throat, hoping to interrupt the conversation between the countess and the marquess and draw his attention to her. It worked. He turned to her, his smile becoming something resembling sincere, though it held a certain smug pride. He bowed to her, as well, more politely than he had the countess, and he stepped forward, reaching for her hands.
“Lady Faye,” he said. “Even in your traveling outfit, you look positively ravishing. It is truly wonderful to see you again.”
Faye blushed, but not because of the flummery. She felt exposed under the marquess’s gaze, and she wanted nothing more than to get away from him.
“Speaking of outfits,” she said, taking the opportunity to step away from him. “I should like somewhere to change into my evening dress, if that is possible, sir.”
The marquess’s eyebrows raised quickly, no doubt at the thought of her undressing, and Faye felt her stomach flip. For a moment, she feared she might be sick right where she stood. But, this time, it was the countess who cleared her throat, and the marquess’s expression settled once more.
“Of course, my dear,” he said, giving Lady Salisdene a half glance over his shoulder. “I should imagine that both you ladies would like to make ready for the party. But since we have so much time until it begins, I wonder if you might be interested in a tour of the gardens?”
Faye had admired the little she had seen of the gardens as they rode up to the manor. But the thought of taking a walk with the marquess made her blood run cold. But she could hardly refuse, as her whole mission at the marquess’s country home depended on her getting close to him.
“That would be lovely,” she said, trying to hide the strain in her voice.
The marquess half turned to the countess and gave her a smirk.
“And, of course, you may come along as chaperone if you like,” he said.
Lady Salisdene met his smirk with a confident, brilliant smile.
