Page 15 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
All her words died on her lips when the door of the room flew open. Her heart stopped, and she closed her eyes, certain that she was about to die.Forgive me, Mother…
Chapter Twelve
Thomas whirled around, tense and disoriented by the interaction with Gabriella. He instantly felt foolish and relieved when he saw Rupert entering the room in his usual flamboyant style. Thomas turned his back on the spy and smiled at his friend. He gestured over his shoulder to the restrained woman, his eyes bright with pride.
“May introduce you to Gabriella Dupont?” he said, clasping his hands at his waist. “I found her spying on Lord Turlington in Rotten Row. She was mumbling something about catching him on the path. So, I brought her back here to find out what she was up to.”
To Thomas’s surprise, Rupert did not share his sentiment. Instead, Rupert’s curiosity turned into shock bordering on horror. He stared at Thomas for a moment, then looked at the woman behind him. When he looked at Thomas again, he was shaking his head.
“Thomas,” he said slowly. “That young lady you have captured is not Miss Dupont.”
Thomas felt his heart stop. He looked at Rupert, searching for any indication of jest in his features. When he saw none, he rubbed his head.
“I do not understand,” he said. “How can you be so certain of that? It does not make any sense.”
Rupert glanced over Thomas’s shoulder once more. Then, he took Thomas gently by the elbow.
“Would you step outside with me for a moment, please?” he asked.
Bewildered, Thomas nodded, allowing his partner to lead him out into the passageway just outside the room. Rupert reached into his coat and pulled out a carefully folded paper. Rupert gently unfolded it, pressing its face down against the wall to smooth it out. Then, he turned back to Thomas and handed it to him.
“I met with a reliable source of mine this morning,” he said. “He gave me that sketch of Gabriella Dupont. As I am sure you will see, the woman on that page looks nothing like the young woman you have tied up in there.”
Thomas looked at the paper, his mind racing. It was clear to him at once that Rupert was correct. The two women looked nothing alike. However, he continued staring at the page for a moment, stunned, speechless with disbelief.
“This source of yours,” Thomas said, his heart thumping in his chest. “You are certain he cannot be wrong?”
Rupert nodded gravely.
“Quite,” he said. “I have gotten information from this gentleman on many occasions, and not once has he ever led me astray. Believe me, Thomas. The woman in that sketch is the real Gabriella Dupont.”
Thomas felt his head begin to spin. He looked back down at the picture. He needed no further convincing, but he studied the features of the woman in the sketch, nonetheless. Gabriella’s eyes were small, and her eyebrows were a thin pencil line. The woman in the room behind him had larger eyes with a lower brow line, and her brows were slightly thicker. Her cheekbones were also higher and more delicate than those of the woman in the sketch, and the lip and face shapes were completely different. He put a hand on his forehead, struggling to make sense of it.
“I do not understand,” he repeated, sounding daft even to his own ears.
Rupert cleared his throat. But instead of clarifying, he gave an exaggerated look over Thomas’s shoulder, raising his eyebrows.
“Exactly who is that woman, Thomas?” he asked.
Thomas shrugged, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for his ability to speak.
“She is the one I confronted in Lord Turlington’s study at the ball,” Thomas said, the words coming in a breathy rush. “This makes no sense, Rupert. Why should some other strange woman just happen to be rifling through the marquess’s study on the same night we tried to break in and fetch his journal?”
Rupert shrugged, gesturing toward the door.
“I cannot answer that question, my friend,” he said. “But I believe we have someone here who can. We must interrogate her and find out who she is working for.”
Thomas nodded, his body relaxing. He had allowed himself to forget for a moment that he had not apprehended a sweet, innocent young lady. Just because she was not the infamous Gabriella Dupont did not mean she was not still interested.
“You are right, as always,” he said, giving Rupert a small smile. “Even if she is not who we thought she was, I would still wager she is another French spy.”
Rupert nodded his head toward the door, indicating Thomas should go in ahead of him, which he did. Thomas noticed right away that the woman was not still in the chair where they had left her. He looked toward the window, finding her standing there, staring out of it with wide eyes. His suspicion rose. Had she been trying to plan an escape while he and Rupert were speaking outside? Her hands were tied behind her back, so she stood little chance of successfully evading two men. But until he and Rupert got to the bottom of who she was and why she kept turning up during their missions, Thomas knew he could not underestimate her, even for a moment.
Thomas did not realize he had been staring at her until the woman whirled around. For the first time since he had abducted her, she did not look utterly terrified. There was fear in her eyes as she gazed intently at him, to be sure, but there was also a deeper concern. But, most of all, there was an innocent determination that Thomas had never seen in the eyes of any of the criminals he had interrogated during his career.
Though it defied all logic, Thomas could not help once more thinking that, perhaps, the woman was no spy at all. His mind told him it was not possible, but his gut argued fiercely. Something about her was simply too sweet and angelic for her to be any sort of successful spy. He tried to ignore the tingles running down his spine as they continued to stare at one another. The attraction he felt to her had to be the reason why he could not see her for the spy she was. But could a woman as beautiful as her truly be a traitor to Great Britain? He simply could not convince himself that was the case, no matter what the evidence against her said.
Rupert disrupted his chaotic thoughts, and Thomas was exceedingly grateful.
