Page 14 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
“I strongly advise you against whatever it is you are thinking of doing, your ladyship,” he said, reaching into his other pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. Quickly, but with great care so as to not touch her in a way that could be viewed as misconduct on his part, he tucked the cloth into her mouth. Her lips twitched slightly, and she looked frightened and confused, but she did not try to scream or even protest. This left Thomas truly baffled. Surely, such an experienced spy would try to do something to prevent him from capturing her. Why was Gabriella doing nothing at all? Had she lost her touch?
The sound of faint voices drew his attention. Though the voices were at some distance, he knew the chances of being discovered in the midst of his task grew with every moment he hesitated. Whatever was going on with Miss Dupont could be deciphered when he got her back to Rupert’s manor. He needed to make haste in getting the young woman out of the park before someone spotted them. He ignored the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach as he checked to ensure the gag was secure. He checked the rope binding around the woman’s wrists once more, then positioned himself behind her.
Though the woman had given no indication she was going to run, Thomas gripped her firmly around the waist with one arm. With the other, he scooped her up beneath her legs, once more surprised when she didn’t attempt to struggle against him. Rather, she seemed resigned and defeated, as though she had no real will to fight him. Thomas could not fathom what could possibly be going through Gabriella’s mind to make no attempts to avoid capture, and the nagging sensation in his gut grew stronger. But the voices were drawing nearer, and he could not afford to think on it any longer.
After glancing around to ensure there was no one else around, he hoisted the woman onto the horse he had hidden in the shadow of a thick patch of trees. His curiosity became almost insurmountable when she did not try to slip off the other side of the horse and flee from his custody. He stood for a moment, staring at her silently, trying to figure out what was going through her mind. But her face, what he could see around the gag, remained that of a frightened young woman. The pain and fear in her eyes began to tear at his insides, and he had to force himself to look away from her.
Before he could do something so foolish as to offer the spy an apology, he mounted the horse behind her, positioning himself so he could hold the reigns with one hand and firmly wrap the other around her waist. He tried and failed, to ignore the thrills that coursed through him as he touched her. He could not help recalling the same sensations he had felt when he danced with her at the masquerade ball and when she had been standing within a breath’s distance from him in Lord Turlington’s study. How could he even be thinking such things about such a dangerous, notorious criminal? He thought of how ashamed of him his dear Ruth would be, which instantly brought him back to his senses.
Furious with himself for getting so lost in such feelings and for creating such a delay in getting himself and the young woman out of the park, he dug his heels into the flanks of his steed. With a soft whinny, the beast turned and bolted from its hiding spot amongst the trees. Thomas relished the rushing wind in his face, allowing it to flush away the remnants of his crazy feelings for Gabriella as they flew down the old, overgrown path that would lead them to Rupert’s manor. Once they had reached his partner’s home, he could begin interrogating the spy and lay to rest his attraction to her once and for all.
For the first half of the trip, Thomas kept expecting Gabriella to say something. The fact she was not trying to bargain with him to let her go or angrily dishing out threats to him was even stranger than her lack of resistance when he had tied up her hands and gagged her.The gag!How foolish he was being.Of course, she cannot say anything … because she has a gag in her mouth.
Angry with himself for making yet another mistake, he pressed his heels harder into the flanks of the animal beneath him. The horse picked up speed, and Thomas allowed himself a moment to enjoy the thrill and rush of moving so fast. He had to clear his head and bring thoughts under control before reaching Rupert’s estate. No matter how confused he regarded his feelings about the spy, he needed to be perfectly collected when he began to interrogate her.
He considered reaching up quickly and removing her gag, so he could begin his interrogation and switch his thoughts back to the serious matter in hand. But he decided it would be best for the woman to save her breath for when Rupert joined him in questioning her. Instead, he, too, remained silent throughout the journey, putting all his concentration into forgetting how beautiful the woman was. He refused to admit to himself that he was failing miserably to do so.
Chapter Eleven
Faye closed her eyes and ducked her head as the wind rushed past them as the horse galloped out of the park. Never had she ridden so fast, and her stomach rolled with a nauseating fear. She had no idea where the strange man meant to take her, but she was growing more certain every moment that they would not make it there alive at the speed at which they were traveling. Why had the man she met at the ball kidnapped her? What could he possibly want with her? Did it have anything to do with whatever he was doing in the marquess’s study that night?
She fought back the tears as they raced down the heavily wooded, clearly neglected path. Whatever awaited her, she could not let her fear get the best of her. She must be strong. The only thing that truly mattered was getting out of the situation alive and returning to her mother. And she could best ensure that outcome by remaining as calm as possible and complying with the strange man’s orders. Despite his abrupt capture of her, he did not seem overtly violent or dangerous, and she felt relatively sure she could eventually convince him to let her go.
Her head swam as she thought of how she had ended up in such a predicament, and she was sorry Mayson had ever set foot in Welborn Manor. She felt her stomach twist as she realized that if she did make it home alive, she would have to tell her cousin that she had once again failed to get what he wanted from the marquess. She could not help wishing the day had gone according to plan. At least she might not have ended up in so much trouble.
Faye’s mind was reeling so fiercely. She almost did not notice the horse was slowing its deadly pace. Daring to assess the situation, she lifted her head slowly and saw they were approaching a manor house concealed by thick groves of large oak trees. Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized how obscure the location was. Anything could happen to her, and no one would ever be able to find where she had gone. As the horse trotted up the driveway leading to the manor, Faye began to wonder if she would be able to get herself out of the situation alive after all. Suddenly, she thought the odds of surviving whatever was about to happen seemed very slim.
As if her thoughts were not in enough chaos, she was suddenly aware of the man who sat in the saddle behind her. Now the horse was moving at a much slower pace, and she noticed how closely his body was pressed to hers. If she held her breath, she could feel his heart beating against her back, and she wondered if he could feel her racing pulse as well. She could also feel his breath on her neck, and she shivered with sensations she did not quite understand. The smell of sandalwood was intoxicating, and, despite her apparent predicament, she could not help being infatuated with the scent. She was frightened, to be sure, but something in her felt a sense of calm that seemed inappropriate for the current situation. Once again, she found herself wondering who the man was.
When the horse, at last, came to a stop, she felt the man slide off the back of the animal. She took the moment he took to adjust himself and gain his bearings to transform herself into the epitome of equanimity. She was far from calm; her stomach somersaulted and knotted as though she were pinned to a spinning wheel, and her mind raced. But no matter what was happening, she would not give the man the satisfaction of seeing her behave like a cowardice-stricken damsel in distress. For all she knew, that was precisely what he wanted. Besides, keeping her wits about her was the only chance she could ever hope to have of escaping. If, that was, making an escape was possible at all.
By the time the man had turned to help her down from the horse, Faye had forced the tears from her eyes, and she had steadied her chin. She gazed at the man levelly as he took her by the waist and eased her to the ground. The fluttering in her stomach almost threatened to crack her cool façade when his hands gripped her above her hips, but she closed her eyes and forced herself to focus on her goal. She refused to acknowledge, even to herself, that the man seemed reluctant to release his grasp on her waist. She merely stared at the ground until he did let go, only then meeting his gaze.
They stared at each other for another moment, much as they had at the park. Then, the man took a firm hold of her arm, pulling his eyes away from hers, as he led her from the now calm steed and toward the looming manor. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but the mansion looked menacing and cold, despite some colored drapes she could see in the windows of the upper storey of the manor and some bright plants growing along either side of the light-gray stone structure. The lack of flower bushes along the path leading directly to the mansion’s front door perpetuated the forbidding image, and Faye struggled to keep calm. She kept her eyes locked firmly on her feet as the man guided her up some stairs, which appeared to lead to a back entrance to the looming manor.
She did not lift her head when they reached a hallway. From the corners of her vision, she could see flashes of rich colors within the rooms they passed by, and grand oil paintings were lining the walls. Did such a home belong to a man capable of kidnapping innocent women in the park? Had he taken her to some lair belonging to people who would treat her worse than him?
The thought added to her fear, and she, at last, began looking around for any signs of other people within the manor. She saw none, not even so much as a servant. Yet she could hardly relax. There could be an entire gang of people waiting to do unspeakable things to her in some dank cellar somewhere. Perhaps the man who held her captive and the people he was working with were so dangerous and volatile, they had even managed to kill the owner of the mansion and their staff and usurped the manor for themselves. Faye was finding it more and more difficult to remain as calm as she wished to do. Now, all she could do was repeat a silent prayer over and over that she would escape the manor alive and safely return to her mother.
Her terror became mixed with confusion when, instead of taking her down a rickety, dark set of stairs to the cellar of the manor, he took her up a narrow but well-maintained staircase. She could not be certain, but it appeared to be the servant’s part of the house. Though it was blander in décor than the little she had seen of the mansion so far, it appeared to be clean and well-tended, and she saw no blood or other signs of any struggles. Clearly, she had let her imagination run away with the scenario she had previously concocted. But that did not mean the gang, or whoever they were, had not taken the mansion’s owners and staff hostage. She could not allow herself to drop her guard.
Once they reached the top of the narrow staircase, Faye noted how dark and narrow the corridor was. It appeared as if all the candles and sconces had been removed, but she supposed it was possible they were there but simply unlit. Despite how brightly the sun was shining outside, it looked as though barely a single ray ever penetrated this part of the manor.
Faye held her breath as her captor continued to firmly guide her, now into a room just to the right of the staircase. It, too, was very poorly lit, providing just enough for her to see a chair off to the left-hand side. The man led her inside, firmly shutting the door behind them, then tugged her over to the chair. He pushed her into it. She winced as the sore part of her hip pressed into the chair’s hard surface. For a moment, guilt flashed across the man’s face. She looked away, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear or pain, but he was looking away as well, seemingly trying to compose himself.
When they looked at each other once more, Faye could no longer read the man’s expression. She found it odd to see any flickers of emotion on his face at all, seeing as how he was apparently a criminal. No one who was capable of kidnapping a young woman could possibly have room for hesitation or regret. Yet she was sure she had seen both pass fleetingly across the man’s eyes. At that moment, however, all she saw was cool contemplation.
“I am going to take the handkerchief out of your mouth now,” he said softly, breaking the outstretched silence. “But I give you warning that it is still unwise to scream. Although no one will hear you, it is something we cannot tolerate. If you scream or, God forbid, attempt to bite me, I will put it right back in your mouth. Do you understand?”
Faye nodded, hoping his confession that there was no one around to hear her call for help was not his indirect way of letting her know he was going to kill her once he was done with her. The man hesitated, but only for a minute longer, before keeping to his word and pulling the gag from her mouth. As soon as he did so, Faye began coughing, trying to pull in breaths of fresh air. The damp room offered little of that, however, which only fueled her coughing spell. The man watched her warily, seeming to be waiting for her coughs to turn into screams. When they did not, however, his brow furrowed, and once more, he appeared concerned.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Faye nodded again, clearing her throat to try to cease her coughing. She turned her face away from him until the fit released her from its grip.
“Yes, I am fine,” she said. “That thing has a horrible taste about it.”
The man was silent, but Faye could imagine that he nodded. When, at last, she could breathe without hacking, she looked back up, only to find the man staring at her fixedly once more. She saw an opportunity to, perhaps, catch him off guard, to get some answers out of him. If she could get to the bottom of things, she might be able to talk him into releasing her. It was not as if she could go to the authorities to report him. To do that would be to implicate herself, as well. Perhaps, if she could convince him of that, he would eventually let her go.
