Page 48 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
Faye supposed that, to some extent, she did know it. After all, she had heard Lord Daleshire and Mr. Kenworthy talking about it, and she knew Mayson had something to do with some sort of spy network. But she also knew, if she was to continue to buy time, she must play as ignorant as possible.
“What value does that have to you?” she asked. “What could possibly be worth taking lives and risking landing yourself in jail?”
Mayson raised his eyebrows, looking at her as though she was the lunatic brandishing a gun at two innocent people.
“Are you mad, Faye?” he asked. “With the information in this book comes a great deal of power and influence. I will be able to make alliances with the French that Charles could only dream about having.”
Faye nodded, glancing once more at her mother. An idea was beginning to form in her mind, and she prayed it would be successful.
Without moving, she smiled proudly at Mayson.
“That would be wonderful for you,” she said, even though the words made bile rise in her throat. “I knew I would be glad if I could bring it to you, as you asked. And now that you have it, you do not need to worry about Mother and me. We can live here, on our own, and you can set about making the connections you need to give you the power you wish for so much.”
Mayson nodded, and hope bloomed in Faye’s chest. He was considering what she had said. Perhaps there was something of a heart within her cousin, after all. Or, at the very least, perhaps he simply did not wish to risk ending up in jail, as she had mentioned. She looked once more at her mother, who had also begun to look hopeful.
But suddenly, Mayson’s face returned to its previous snarl. He sneered at Faye, his eyes burning with hatred.
“Surely you jest,” he said. “You are the prime witnesses to what I plan to do with this book. I know you did not seriously think that I would let you live.”
Mayson raised the gun once more, and Faye gasped.
Chapter Thirty
Thomas’s heart would not leave his throat as he spurred his stallion to run as fast as he possibly could. He had no idea what he might be getting himself into when he arrived at his destination, but he felt certain it was going to be dangerous. He should not have ignored Rupert’s cries to tell him where he was going, as he would likely need the assistance. But that was the furthest thing from his mind as he rode. There were others in danger apart from him. And, if his hunch were correct, the danger could be too dire for him to intercept it in time. He cursed himself for not acting on his earlier intuition sooner. But he could not think of that just then. He had to focus on getting to Welborn Manor as quickly as he could.
When the door of the manor was in sight, Thomas pushed his horse harder than ever before. He could feel the beast attempt to protest and resist his commands. But his sense of danger and dread increased exponentially as he drew closer to the manor, and he knew before he had even dismounted from the animal that his worst fears would be confirmed. He knew he should have waited for Rupert to be ready and accompany him, but he did not have a moment to spare. And, when he entered the manor through the front door, which was unlocked, he knew immediately why.
Though the voices were muffled, Thomas knew at once they came from Lady Faye, Lady Welborn, and Mayson Winters. Worse still, the two women sounded as though they were pleading with him for something, and Thomas knew his next move was absolutely critical. Perhaps even life-altering. He would have to move quickly. Even now, Mayson could be harming Lady Faye’s mother. Though the physician had visited her, she would still be very weak, and Thomas could not let the horrid man harm the dowager duchess and break Lady Faye’s heart. Not when he had promised her he would ensure her mother would be well.
Going into his automatic agent stealth mode, Thomas followed the sound of the voices down the hall to the drawing-room. At first, it appeared the drawing-room door was closed. But, once more, it seemed his luck was holding. The door was only pushed to, so he could not quite peek inside, but it had not latched. Thanking the heavens for his second stroke of luck in five minutes, he slowly and silently pushed it open. But his gratitude was short-lived, and his heart found its way back into his throat, where it stopped.
Inside the room, Thomas saw at once why the women were pleading. Mayson Winters had Lady Faye held at gunpoint, aiming the pistol straight at her temple. Should he pull the trigger, she would be dead instantly. The dowager countess was begging the despicable man to release her daughter and kill her instead. Lady Faye was pleading with her mother not to do it. Mayson was chuckling maniacally, shaking his head, all the while holding his gun hand perfectly motionless and ready to shoot.
The gun-wielding criminal had not noticed him, so Thomas froze, not daring to even breathe. He knew he must try to assess the situation and choose the action that would best derail the situation in the quickest amount of time. But he quickly found he could no longer think like an agent of the Crown, as he had for years prior. Instead, all he could think of was saving Lady Faye’s life. He realized that protecting her was the only thing he truly cared about. And, in that moment, he knew without a doubt that it wasn’t just because she was a completely innocent woman. It was because he had fallen madly in love with her. And he could not survive losing the second woman ever to capture his heart, even if it meant him sacrificing his own life to save hers.
Acting on his newfound realization alone, Thomas suddenly barreled across the room, lunging right at Mayson. His plan to remain undetected until he acted was successful, as he caught the gunman utterly off guard. Mayson had not even finished turning his head in Thomas’s direction before his body found purchase. He slammed into Mayson with almost enough force to knock the breath out of himself, and before Mayson could react and resist, he wrapped his arms around the gunman’s waist. Fate worked in his favor because Mayson fell instantly to the ground, preventing Thomas from taking the impact of the tackle. Thomas tried to take full advantage of his element of surprise and wrestle himself on top of Mayson. Just as Lady Faye let out a bloodcurdling scream, he managed to lift his leg just to the other side of Mayson’s chest.
However, Mayson was quick to recover from the shock of the attack. He began to resist against Thomas using all his body weight which, for being so lanky, turned out to seem far heavier than Thomas’s own. They scuffled on the floor for several moments, but it did not take Thomas long to realize he had grossly misjudged Mayson Winters’ strength. While thin, Mayson wrestled like a man easily twice his size, or larger, and Thomas found himself at a terrible disadvantage in no time.
In that moment, Thomas realized he would have to even the odds if he hoped to defeat Mayson. He began pushing his hands in Mayson’s face, hoping to prevent the gunman from seeing anything properly while he looked around for anything nearby to use as a weapon. But unfortunately, Mayson seemed to be as skilled in fighting as he was strong, and he overpowered Thomas with no trouble at all. Before Thomas knew what was happening, Mayson was on top of him, his hands pinning Thomas down to the floor by the chest.
“Did you really think you could just rush in here and save the day with your swine of the Crown authority?” Mayson asked.
Thomas tried to keep squirming to keep the crazed man from getting a good grip on his throat. He flailed his arms, hoping to keep Mayson so distracted and agitated that he could not commence choking him.
“You have what you want,” he said, gesturing with his head at the black book, which had slid across the floor. “That book will hardly serve you any purpose while you sit rotting away in a cell.”
Mayson laughed, and Thomas froze at how cold and delirious the sound was. It was clear that Mayson was as mad as he was cruel, and Thomas began to understand that none of the other three people would ever leave that room alive.
“You must think I am a witless fool,” he said, still cackling. “I have made arrangements to get as far from London as I can. After, that is, I have killed the three of you.”
Hearing confirmation of his fears sent cold shudders down Thomas’s spine. And, unfortunately, the reaction made him lose his focus on his goal of resisting Mayson’s attempts to strangle him. Mayson took advantage of Thomas’s lack of resistance to firmly place his hands around Thomas’s throat and begin to squeeze with the force of a vice.
Thomas could hear Lady Faye and the dowager countess screaming, and it sounded as though one or both was approaching. He tried his best to turn his head while Mayson continued to strangle him, succeeding only catching a glimpse of them from the corner of his eye.
“Run,” he croaked, his voice already weak and unrecognizable.
As everything began to fade to black, the last thing Thomas saw was Lady Faye looking down at him, with tear-filled, pleading eyes. Thomas’s heart broke, realizing she was frozen in place, forced to stand there and witness his death. It would damage her for the rest of her life, and he would never be able to comfort her. It would, indeed, be his fault for involving her in his work in the first place. He prayed that Ruth would not hate him when he met her again in the afterlife.
