Page 39 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
“It would be my pleasure,” she said.
With that, the countess excused them, and they followed a short, portly maid up to a room that had been prepared for them to change into their party clothes. Their belongings had already been brought up for them as well. Faye was glad to be left alone with the countess when the maid finally exited and closed the door behind her.
“It is all right, darling,” the countess said, embracing her tightly. “I will not let you out of my sight for a moment with that man.”
Faye returned the embrace, thanking the heavens for having made such a fast and true friend.
“Thank you, my lady,” she said.
The countess pulled away from her and shook her head.
“Faye, darling,” she said. “Please, call me Selina.”
Faye nodded, smiling gratefully at the countess.
“Thank you, Selina,” she echoed.
Faye first helped the countess into her dress, which was a beautifully rich purple trimmed with bright gold lace. Then, it was Faye’s turn. She had found a yellow silk dress in her wardrobe, which she had not yet been able to wear. It was trimmed with white satin and had a wide white ribbon around the waist. It was trimmed with seed pearls, as were the matching shoes. The bright primrose-colored gloves had a white pearl trim at the top and a line of pearls running from her second finger up the entire length of the glove. She loved the dress, although she had hoped to wear it for an event she would truly enjoy.
When the women were dressed, they met the marquess at the bottom of the stairs. Faye wondered if he had waited there for them the entire time. Then, a more horrible thought occurred to her. What if he had been spying on them somehow as they dressed? Surely, even a man like him would not do something like that. Would he?
The women let him lead them out the back of the manor, and Faye had to concentrate on not shuddering as she held onto the marquess’s arm. Even though she was wearing gloves and he was wearing a coat, she could hardly stomach the thought of him toughing her. But she reminded herself that this was the perfect opportunity to get to know more about Lord Turlington.
As they walked through the gardens, Selina stayed close behind them. Faye could tell it irritated the marquess, which brought her a measure of amusement. She listened to him drone on and on about some business venture, and, even though she knew little about the sugar trade, she was almost certain he was lying. But she let him talk, as she thought something he said might prove useful to Mr. Kenworthy and Lord Daleshire.
“Oh, listen to me prattle on,” Lord Turlington said, at last, giving a clearly fake chuckle. “Please, Lady Faye, tell me what your interests are.”
Faye thought for a moment. She did not want him to know more about her than was necessary, but she knew she must give him something. She thought for a moment, then smiled.
“I love to read,” she said. “My mother has told me that she would often find me in my room holding books many years before I could even read.”
The marquess looked at her with a strange kind of surprise, as though he was either surprised or disappointed that she would have a love for anything intellectual.Heprobably is disappointed,she thought with mild amusement.
To her astonishment, he smiled brightly at her.
“That is a pleasant surprise,” he mused. “Many women merely enjoy attending balls and gossiping at their parties. It is refreshing to hear that a lovely young woman enjoys reading in her spare time. Please, feel free to make use of my library as much as you like while you are here, my dear.”
Faye bit her lip, not doubting the marquess’s words were some kind of barb meant for the countess. But neither she nor Selina reacted to the remark. Rather, Faye feigned humble joy.
“Oh, thank you, my lord,” she said, looking away coquettishly. “You are very kind.”
In truth, she intended to take him up on the offer. She truly did love to read, and she had had little time to do so since her mother had fallen ill. She looked forward to having some time to read, even if it was at the home of an unsavory man.
A short time later, the trio returned to the manor, just in time for the first party guests to begin arriving. It was late afternoon, but the luncheon feast was spectacular, and Faye found herself actually having a nice time. She stayed close to the countess the entire time. Apart from a few interactions with other guests and the marquess introducing her to some people who looked not much more trustworthy than himself, she did not have to spend a great deal of time with him. The party lasted well into the early hours of the morning, and she was exhausted by the time the last guests departed. But she was beginning to feel confident that she could, indeed, earn the marquess’s trust, and complete the mission that Mr. Kenworthy and Lord Daleshire had given her.
Chapter Twenty-five
Faye was all too happy to retire almost as soon as the party had ended. She feigned an overwhelming fatigue to avoid being invited to have tea with the marquess, quickly making her way up to the room that had been prepared for her. But not before the countess gave Faye her word, she would keep a close eye on her throughout the night. Faye had brought a piece of crocheting with her for the trip, and she sat at the small desk in her room, fiddling with some of the stitchwork. But her mind could hardly concentrate on the yarn and hook. Instead, it was back in London, dwelling on the handsome Mr. Kenworthy.
After several hours of attempting to work on her crocheting, Faye at last gave up. Then, she changed into a very modest nightgown, chosen specifically with the uncomfortable way the marquess looked at her in mind and climbed into bed. Yet, despite the long trip and the party, which had continued for so many hours, Faye found herself still too alert and restless for sleep. She prayed her mother had not forgotten to take her medicine as Faye had instructed her. Briefly, she wished she had asked Bretta to see to that as well as her meals.
She tossed in bed, trying for sleep until she gave herself a mild headache. Exasperated with her racing mind, she sat up, trying to decide what she could do to try lulling herself into sleepiness. Then, she remembered the marquess’s offer for her to use his library at any time she wished and his grand production of showing her where it was just before they had joined the luncheon guests. Thinking a good story would slow her chaotic thoughts, she slipped on a robe even more modest than her nightgown and tiptoed quietly out of her room and down the stairs.
Even in the dim lighting, she remembered easily where the library was. To her delight, there were a few candles still alight inside, as though the marquess had anticipated her visit to the library in the night. She was unsure whether that was a kind gesture or a calculating one, but she chose to believe it was the latter. He had, after all, consumed a great deal of alcohol during the luncheon, and she had no doubt he had continued drinking, taking brandy with some of the gentlemen after the party had ended.
Rather than closing the door and, perhaps, alerting the marquess to the fact the library was in use, she opted to leave it open and take up a far corner of the room, which concealed her presence to anyone simply passing by. Then, she began to peruse the shelves, where the books were more plentiful than in any library she had seen in her entire twenty years of life.
She stared in awe, trying to decide where to start with the vast selection of books, which had clearly been carefully collected over many years. Given that the marquess was so many years older than her, it was no surprise to her. Nevertheless, she was amazed, slowly drifting from shelf to shelf, glancing at every title within her line of sight.
