Page 25 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
Faye forced a smile, hoping she had succeeded in masking her reflexive grimace as he spoke. She tried to make herself look as humble and shy as possible.
“My mother taught me,” she said simply.
Lord Turlington nodded approvingly.
“She certainly taught you well,” he said. “May I assume the lady is just as beautiful as her daughter is, as well?”
Faye’s stomach twisted as images of her mother came to mind. Her mother had, indeed, been very beautiful before she fell ill. Now, she was too thin, too pale, and her once beautiful brown hair had begun to fade and dull, now streaked with gray. She clenched her teeth together until her jaw hurt to fight against the tears threatening to form. Fortunately, the music began to fade just then, signaling the end of her dance with the marquess. She flashed him another too-bright smile, never having felt more relieved than she did as he led her off the dance floor.
She thought he would bow and excuse himself, leaving her to report a minimal success in capturing his affections to Lord Daleshire and Mr. Kenworthy. Instead, however, he took one of her gloved hands and kissed it. She could feel the dampness of his lips through the fabric, and she had to will herself to not withdraw from his grasp.
“Do forgive me for being so bold,” he said, “but I would like to invite you to a house party that I am to host at my country seat. And I must warn you, I am not prepared to take no for an answer.”
Faye hid her mouth behind her free hand, feigning modesty to hide her disgust and surprise. She had thought the marquess was about to pass her up and move on to the next young woman, even though he had overtly admired her figure many times as they danced. And the invitation was precisely what she knew Mr. Kenworthy and Lord Daleshire would be hoping for. But now it had come, her stomach began tying itself in knots. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to reject the offer. And, for a moment, she considered doing exactly that and then telling the two gentlemen that no such invitation was offered to her. But she thought of her mother and how badly the dowager countess needed medical care, care she would only receive if Faye cooperated fully with the two Crown agents who had sent her on this mission.
Forcing another smile, she nodded as eagerly as she could manage to the marquess.
“I would be delighted to accept,” she said.
Lord Turlington seemed pleased. He kissed her hand once more as he bowed to her, grinning.
“Very good,” he said. “I look forward to spending more time with you there, my dear.”
Faye could not bring herself to return the sentiment, so she simply smiled once more and bowed her head graciously. Thankfully, the marquess, apparently satisfied he had acquired his conquest, merely bowed, giving her another of his odd smiles. Then, he turned away and made his way across the crowded ballroom. She noticed, with little surprise, that he immediately approached another young woman who was standing all alone, and began talking to her, just as he had to Faye.
Faye shuddered, pitying the other young woman, but greatly relieved to be out of his presence and away from all his flummery. She wanted to believe he was merely an eccentric fellow, but she could not forget that the British War Office was trailing him. They would not track anyone simply for being a bit eccentric. She turned and went in the opposite direction from Lord Turlington, toward the refreshment table, thinking of the sudden invitation to the marquess’s country seat. Even if he had a real interest in her, surely it was rather strange of him to extend such an invitation so soon. She tried not to think about the reasons such a hardened criminal might have for doing such a thing.
As soon as she reached the refreshments, she took a flute of champagne. She drank it very quickly, in a manner that would surely be deemed unladylike, should anyone be paying any special attention to her. She did not care, however. Her heart was racing as though it was trying to escape her bosom, and she could feel herself shaking. She knew it was an extreme reaction for such a relatively harmless interaction with the marquess, but she could not forget how dangerous he could be. She finished the first glass of champagne and discarded the flute, then reached for another. Forcing herself to calm down, she sipped at the fresh one at a much more appropriate pace.
When a tall, regal lady wearing an extravagant purple gown came into view, Faye at first paid her no special attention. She was unfamiliar to Faye, and Faye was sure the woman was only passing by. But when she met the woman’s soft, gray eyes in passing, she offered Faye a warm, kind smile.
“Good day, my dear,” the woman said, touching her arm gently rather than curtseying formally, as societal expectations dictated.
Faye looked at the woman, puzzled at such informality from a woman she did not know. Did she know her? Could she be one of her mother’s old friends?
The woman laughed softly, smiling sympathetically at Faye’s confusion.
“Oh, dear, do pardon me,” she said. “I am too friendly for my own good sometimes. I am the Countess of Salisdene. It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Faye nodded, feeling no less baffled than a moment before. She flushed with the embarrassment of not even recognizing the hostess of the party she was currently attending. She gave the countess a tense smile and curtseyed stiffly.
“Likewise, my lady,” she said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
The tall woman glanced over her shoulder, but she turned back to Faye before she could follow her gaze.
“I know that this request may seem rather odd, as we have only just met,” she said. “but I wish to invite you here for tea tomorrow. It will be merely a small affair, but I would love to have an opportunity to get to know you better.”
Faye blinked in surprise. It certainly did seem odd to her that a woman who had only introduced herself just minutes before should invite her into her home for an intimate gathering. For all Faye knew, Lady Salisdene could be working with Lord Turlington and involved in the same kinds of criminal pastimes as the marquess. But there was something about the woman’s eyes, something that made Faye inherently trust and like her.
However, before she gave her answer, she could not help letting her gaze drift to where Mr. Kenworthy had last been standing. He was staring right at her as though he had been attempting to get her attention with his mind alone. As soon as their eyes met, she saw him nod his head firmly. Confused, she glanced back to the countess, who was still smiling warmly at her. Then, she looked back at the blue-suited gentleman, who nodded once more. She thought she began to understand, so she looked at Lady Salisdene with a warm, if baffled, smile.
“That is very kind of you, my lady,” she said, nodding respectfully to the hostess. “I gladly accept your invitation.”
The countess clasped her hands together and beamed at her, reaching out and touching Faye’s arm with a very gentle hand. Suddenly, Faye felt as touched by the sudden invitation as she had been bewildered. She did not know the countess, but she instantly knew she was someone she could trust.
“Wonderful,” Lady Salisdene said, her eyes sparkling. “Perhaps, after the ball, we could discuss the details further in my drawing-room?”
Faye glanced once more in Mr. Kenworthy’s direction but, to her surprise, the gentleman was gone. Not wishing to insult the countess after her previous kindness, Faye gave her another small smile. She did not know if accepting the invitation to tea would be interfering with any of Lord Daleshire’s or Mr. Kenworthy’s other plans for the mission, but it looked as though she was on her own when it came to making a decision.
