Page 9 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
She had no intention of pressing her tired, ill mother, however. Instead, she leaned down and kissed the dowager countess on the forehead, gently tugging the woman’s blankets up further, so the countess could pull it up over her arms if she wished. Then, she stroked her mother’s cheek.
“Very well, Mother,” she said softly. “I will come to check on you at first light.”
The dowager countess nodded, her eyelids already beginning to droop.
“Alright,” she said. “I love you very much, dear. Have a good night.”
Faye hid a wince as she smiled once more. There was no need to tell her mother that there was no such thing as a good night for Faye so long as her mother was in such a terrible condition.
“I love you, too, Mother,” she said. “Good night. Rest well.”
The dowager countess nodded once more, and a moment later, she was sound asleep. Faye slipped quietly out of her room, silently closing the door behind her. She tiptoed to her own bedchambers, shutting the door just as she heard stumbling movement downstairs. She sighed heavily with relief. She had made it to her room just in time to avoid Mayson for the night. As quietly as she could, she locked the door. Then, she walked over to her bed, fetching her nightgown and dressing for bed.
She got into bed, ready for the comfort of the soft mattress and warm, light blankets. However, as she expected, sleep did not come. She was thinking about her maid, Fanny, not for her services but about their friendship all these years. Fanny was a real friend, and she knew all those innocent secrets from Faye’s young age. The day when her Cousin had dismissed Fanny had been one of the worst of Faye’s life.
She kept replaying her mother’s last coughing fit over and over in her mind. She had, until recently, tried to delude herself into believing her mother would miraculously get better and that there was no possibility of her dying. But the truth of the situation was now impossible to deny, and it struck fear into Faye’s heart she had never experienced before, not even when two separate men had brandished guns at her. If she lost her mother, she would be truly alone.
She had never prepared herself for the eventuality of having to live without her mother, and she had no idea what she would do if the dowager countess died. Life without her father had been difficult enough, even with her mother’s love and support. But if her mother passed away, there would be no one left to comfort her. Moreover, there would be no one to give her the strength to stand up to Mayson. In fact, without the dowager countess to put wrinkles in his plans, Faye might never get the chance to defend herself against him. Fear and sadness overwhelmed Faye, and she buried her face into her pillow and began to sob.
Chapter Seven
The first thought on Thomas’s mind the following morning was the mysterious woman from the night before. Despite the fatigue from the restless sleep he’d had, he could recall the image of her face perfectly. He had been stunned to find anyone in the marquess’s study when he entered and even more so to see that the culprit had so brazenly removed her mask. Such a bold move certainly did not match the angelic innocence of the young woman’s face. Even after concluding that she must be Miss Dupont, he could not deny she looked nothing like any of the other spies or undercover agents he had ever encountered in his work. She had truly appeared to be clueless about what she was doing in the study, and she had reminded him of a wounded wild animal when he had caught her. A seasoned spy would be many things in the same scenario, but frightened and bewildered were not among them.
Thomas pulled himself up in bed and vigorously rubbed his face with his hands. The woman had been lovely, to be sure, but he was behaving like a lovesick young man. It did not matter how attractive she was or how afraid and innocent she had looked. He could never let himself forget that a spy was nothing if not cunning and manipulative. And a spy as practiced and ruthless as Gabriella would certainly know how to make someone who had never seen her face believe she was merely an innocent young woman who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, her fear could very well have been real. He had seen her entire face, unlike everyone else at the ball, who had only seen what was not hidden behind her mask. And, since this was her first appearance in a year, she might now be a little slower and less professional than she once had been. Having someone discover her identity on her very first mission in twelve months would surely have been startling, even to a spy of her talents.
With a groan, Thomas rose from the bed and got himself dressed. Then, he went downstairs and joined Rupert in the main dining hall for breakfast. He was far from hungry and already exhausted at the thought of the task which now lay before him that afternoon. But he knew skipping breakfast would do him no favors, either. He would be better served to make an effort than to try to hide in his bedchambers until it was time for the meeting he was to attend with Rupert to brief their colleague on the previous night’s events.
When he entered the dining room, Rupert looked up from his meal and smiled.
“Good morning, Thomas,” he said, gesturing for Thomas to take a seat beside him. “Did you sleep well?”
Thomas glared at his partner and friend, knowing instantly that Rupert knew well the answer to that question. Thomas shook his head, mumbling something untoward he knew Rupert would hear. Rupert did, indeed, and he laughed heartily.
“Do not be so hard on yourself, my friend,” he said. “Perhaps things will not be as bad as you have allowed yourself to imagine.”
Thomas glared at Rupert again but with less genuine agitation. He knew his partner was trying to help him feel better, but even Rupert must know his words sounded hollow. If things ended up not being as bad as he imagined, it would be because they turned out to be even worse. He had made the biggest blunder of his career and on the biggest case to which he had ever been assigned. Even though he had not been caught by the criminal mastermind himself, he had not retrieved the book, and he had also been spotted by someone else, who now knew that other people were looking for the journal.
“I do not see many ways in which it could be much worse, Rupert,” he grumbled, angrily pushing around his meal on his plate.
Rupert’s expression softened, and he smiled warmly at his friend.
“You know as well as I do that not all missions for the War Office run as smoothly as planned,” he said. “And do you really not think our superiors know that, as well?”
Thomas sighed.
“Of course, we all know it,” he said. “But that is why they assigned us to this mission. We are two of the best they have for this sort of work. They trusted us to ensure things went as smoothly as they require. Besides, that is hardly a viable excuse to offer to any innocent people who may end up being harmed because of my folly.”
Rupert shook his head slowly, but he changed the subject.
“It is very odd indeed that Gabriella should suddenly reappear, now of all times,” he said thoughtfully. “After going missing for so long, she has certainly picked a strange target for her return.”
Thomas shrugged halfheartedly.
“I fancy she is one of the best spies the French have ever had,” he said. “She has managed to evade capture and avoid being located for over a year. Who knows what she could be up to?”
Rupert nodded, his eyes widening.
“That is precisely my point, my friend,” he said. “Perhaps now, we can get a lead on Miss Dupont. That would be most useful, indeed.”
