Page 5 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
“By the by, this is a lovely ball, is it not?” she asked.
The gentleman nodded, glancing at her briefly.
“It is,” he said, though his voice lacked any real enthusiasm.
Faye nodded, pondering at the man’s aloofness. Perhaps he was shy and merely needed to be properly engaged to open up. She offered him another brilliant smile. She glanced down at his suit, and an idea struck her.
“I could not help noticing that our outfits look as though they were cut from the same piece of fabric,” she said.
The gentleman looked at her, at last flashing a warm, charming smile.
“That is one of the reasons why I asked you to dance,” he said, giving her a wink.
Faye blushed. Now the man’s eyes were lit up with interest, and she could see how beautiful they really were. His ash-blond hair bounced as they twirled, and the muscles along his angled jawline twitched as he smiled.
Faye raised her eyebrows, pleased that he was at last responsive.
“Oh?” she asked. “There was more than one reason why you asked me to dance?”
She looked at him expectantly, but it was soon clear he had not heard her question. She studied his face, frowning as she noticed he seemed more intent on surveying the ballroom than her. She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a sound of displeasure. Surely, he had not asked her to dance simply to make another woman jealous? She did not think herself the most beautiful woman in London, but she felt she was pleasant enough looking, and she was a very skilled dancer. Even though meeting gentlemen was not the purpose of her attendance at the ball, it would be insulting to think that the only man to dance with her that evening had only done so to get another young lady’s attention. And, if his mind was otherwise occupied, why should he ask anyone to dance at all?
She cleared her throat pointedly, thinking it might pull the man’s attention back to her. He did not seem to hear her again, either because of the loud music or his wandering thoughts. Frustrated, Faye did the only other thing she could think of. She switched her weight to the wrong foot for that particular dance and purposely stepped on the man’s feet. That worked instantly. Faye could not help feeling a sense of gratification as the gentleman whipped his head toward her, his eyes wide and confused.
“Are you alright?” he asked, glancing down at their feet, which had simultaneously stopped moving across the floor.
Faye feigned her best sheepish expression and bit her lip, nodding slowly.
“Oh, forgive me,” she said, removing her hand from his shoulder and placing it on her cheek. “How clumsy of me.”
The strange expression on the man’s face surprised Faye. Rather than giving her a sympathetic smile, he appeared to be studyingher carefully. His jaw was set, and his eyes regarded her with almost calculating alertness. Her heart thumped fiercely in her bosom as she stared into his eyes. They were such a beautiful shade of blue-green, and she found herself quickly getting lost in them.
“Hm,” the man said, bringing her back to herself. “Are you sure you did that by accident?”
Faye blinked, stunned and confused.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked.
“Forgive me, but I cannot help thinking that, perhaps, you stepped on my foot intentionally, my lady,” he said. “You are, so far as I can tell, a very gifted dancer. I am struggling to believe you could have made such a blunder accidentally.”
Faye bit her lip to keep her mouth from falling open. Had he managed to read her mind? There was no possible way that a perfect stranger should be able to tell she had done it on purpose.
Don’t be silly, Faye,she scolded herself silently,noperson in the world could possess such a gift.Quickly, she realized she had been silent a moment too long. She lifted her chin defiantly, eyeing the stranger with as much indignance as she could muster.
“Good grief, I would never do such a thing on purpose,” she said, more harshly than she had intended. “I merely lost my concentration for a moment, and my foot slipped.”
The man studied her for another moment. It seemed as though he was preparing to say something more, and Faye swallowed. She realized how foolish she had been to do such a thing. Now, the gentleman would surely remember her, and he might keep an eye on her for the rest of the evening.
Once more, she chastised herself for having such mad thoughts. She simply imagined things, of course. With the task she had ahead of her, she was allowing her mind to play tricks and run completely away with her. That would not do. If she did not find a way to get herself under control, she would surely botch the mission completely. Her mother’s life depended on her success that night, and she could not afford to forget it, even for a moment. She held her breath and waited to see what the man was going to say to her.
The final chords of the cotillion resonated just then, and, instead of speaking, the gentleman smiled. He offered her his arm and escorted her off the dance floor. Faye returned his smile, unable to suppress the relief she felt that he had been unable to question her further. Though, beneath that relief came a slight wash of disappointment. It was not until the gentleman thanked her warmly for the dance and wished her a good evening, then almost instantly vanished into the crowd of guests that Faye realized butterflies were flitting about in a frenzy in her stomach. Something about him had excited her, and she could not help wondering who he was and wishing she had met him at a regular-season ball rather than at a party where everyone wore masks.
When Faye realized where her thoughts were leading her, she bit her lip and scolded herself once more. She had no business having such thoughts about anyone at present. She had not come to the ball to find a potential match for love. She had come to save her mother’s life, and she could not allow her thoughts to stray as they were doing. Faye looked around the ballroom, giving a firm shake of her head until her eyes found the tall, ornate clock against the wall by the entryway into the room. She craned her neck to see it was just before eleven o’clock, and Mayson had told her the ball would be ending at around midnight. She only had one hour to find the book he wanted, and she prayed it was enough time.
As calmly as she could, Faye began the slow trek through the crowded ballroom once again. As she had earlier in the evening, she avoided eye contact with the guests, training her gaze on the door through which she planned to slip out. She sent up silent prayers that she would be successful in finding the black journal and would make it out alive to give it to her cousin. She made herself a promise to try to come up with a plan for getting herself and her mother away from Mayson once the evening’s business was finished. She had no idea how she would ever succeed with such a feat, but she knew that she and her mother were in greater danger with every passing day so long as he was around.
Her stomach twisted into knots as she saw a tall, heavy door at the end of the aisle. After a few running steps, she reached the door. She glanced over her shoulder and, when she did not see anyone paying special attentionto her, she slipped out into the grand lobby of Turlington Manor. The instant noise reduction almost caused her to jump because the pounding of her heart was suddenly louder than anything she could ever remember hearing. The manor’s interior was more luxurious than she could ever have imagined. Directly in front of her, she could see two grand staircases leading up to the same floor, which had been designed on a scale to allow some dozen persons to walk up abreast. She could hear the wood snapping in the fire burning in the stone hearth between the two staircases.
Servant’s voices came to her ears from the staircase on her right hand, and she quietly tiptoed past the left staircase that led up to the manor’s second floor. With the briefest glance around her to ensure there were no servants around to bear witness to her actions, she slinked around the corner and into a long hallway.
