Page 7 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
For a moment, Faye was proud of herself. It often happened that young women had trouble with their dress hems, especially on dresses long enough to brush the floor when they walked. That was the reason why every young woman carried a packet containing needles and sewing thread in their dress pockets everywhere they went. However, as the man’s gaze grew more suspicious, she winced, realizing her error. She had noted it only vaguely as she had searched for the study door, but there were many rooms along the aisle with open doors. She could not be sure, but the man had probably noticed the same thing.
His eyes told her that indeed he had and that he did not believe a word she had just said. If she had ever had any hope of convincing him her presence in the study was innocent, it was long gone. Anxiety struck her, and she tried to force her feet to move. But, as before, she was frozen to the spot. Then, a familiar tickle assaulted her nose and, a moment later, she sneezed once more. Her eyes reflexively closed, and her head bent down to meet her hands, which were rising to cover her face. She recovered quickly, but not quite quickly enough. When she stood back up and opened her eyes, the strange man was standing right in front of her, close enough to touch.
“God bless you,” he said.
Chapter Five
Thomas stood frozen in disbelief as he looked right into the eyes of the woman with whom he had danced earlier that evening. With her mask removed and the moonlight shining its beam down exactly where she stood, he could see every detail of her features. Her dark brown hair, which had been so neatly styled earlier in the evening, now fell in cascading waves down one side of her heart-shaped face. He had to bite his lip to hide a smile at how amusing and endearing her disarrayed hair appeared. Her wide-set eyes seemed bluer in the soft moonlight, and her fair cheeks were flushed bright crimson, no doubt with the adrenaline and embarrassment of getting caught rifling around in a room clearly out of bounds to guests. Her dark-blue dress had twisted at her waist so that he could see the hourglass figure beneath it.
As he surveyed the young woman, a thought occurred to him. What if she was the notorious French spy, Gabriella Dupont? It would certainly explain why she was stealing into Lord Turlington’s study and rummaging around in his things. It was certainly easier to believe that than the idea she was merely there to sew up the hem of her gown. It was too much of a coincidence for such a thing to happen on the same night that he and Rupert had arranged to come in and steal Lord Turlington’s black leather book. But then again, Miss Dupont had not been seen in almost twelve calendar months. She had disappeared without a trace nearly one year prior, and despite all efforts made to locate her, no one had been successful. It would also be something of a coincidence for her to turn up again now of all times and so suddenly. He decided the best way to find out who she was simply ask. He felt confident he would know if she was lying, even if he did not get far in discovering her identity. One thing he did know was that she was absolutely gorgeous. There was no denying that.
The woman suddenly rushed forward, forcing him to shake off the spell into which he had quickly fallen. He reflexively took a sideways step to block her path before she could race past him. His maneuver was successful. She stopped quickly, mere paces from him, her eyes wide with fear. Once more, he doubted his original idea that she was Gabriella Dupont. A well-renowned spy would likely be many things in such a scenario, but she would certainly not be afraid. And Thomas felt sure it was genuine fear he saw in the woman’s tense features.
Instinctively, he slowly showed her his hands and tucked the pistol back into his jacket pocket. He saw no reason to add to the tension by brandishing his weapon when it seemed unlikely he would need to use it. If she had a gun of her own, she would have drawn it on him, especially after seeing his. He gave her a charming smile in the hope of showing her he had no intention of harming her. But that turned out to be a grievous mistake. As he stood up straight, there was a sudden, hard impact to his midsection. It took him a moment to realize that the young woman had kicked him in the stomach.
With a breathless grunt, Thomas fell to the floor. Before his eyes clenched shut in pain, he saw the look of mortified horror on the young woman’s face. He tried to put a hand down on the floor to push himself up, but the pain was so acute, his strength failed him. Instead, all he could do was hold his stomach and lie there helplessly as the young woman stepped over his feet and fled the room. Through his slitted eyelids, he could see the woman glance over her shoulder as she slipped out of the room. He thought he saw remorse in her eyes, but it was hard to tell with his limited vision and the dim light. A moment later, she closed the door quietly behind her.
He took several slow, deep breaths, trying to compose himself. The pain slowly began to subside, but he waited a moment longer to try once more to push himself up. He shook his head slowly, wondering if he had not finally gotten too old for this kind of spy work. He had done it for many years, and he had sustained all kinds of injuries. When a kick to the stomach from a delicate young woman dropped him so quickly and easily, it made him think the years were catching up to him. He could not admit, even to himself, that the real reason he was struggling to pull himself up off the floor was the young woman’s beauty. In a way, the fact he had allowed himself to be distracted and disarmed so easily by a lovely face was worse than the pain itself.
Just as he managed to get himself into an upright position, Thomas heard approaching footsteps. His heart leapt into his throat, and his adrenaline quickly replaced the still throbbing pain in his stomach. He pulled himself to his feet, fumbling for his pistol. Now, his problems went much deeper than allowing a lovely young woman to not only distract him from a critical assignment but to get away before he could interrogate her about who she was and what she was doing in the study of a known criminal. If he were caught by Lord Turlington or any member of the marquess’s household servants, the whole mission would be destroyed. He would be responsible for many innocent people losing their lives. He realized then just how badly he had messed everything up, and he cursed his temporary incompetence. Never in his career had he bungled a job so terribly, not even in his rookie days. He would certainly lose his job and, worst of all, any dignity or respect he had worked so hard to earn.
He looked around the room frantically, spotting the couch across the room. He could not tell for sure, but he thought there might be enough room for him to squeeze behind it.If not, then I shallmakeroom,he thought, making a beeline for the couch. Fortunately, it was just far enough away from the wall to allow him to maneuver himself behind it. And not a moment too soon. Just as he was curling himself into a tucked position, he heard the low creak of the study door’s hinges as someone opened it.
Thomas held his breath, a million scenarios racing through his mind. That woman could have been working for Turlington, and she could have gone to fetch him to alert the marquess about Thomas’s intrusion. She could have returned, this time with a weapon to hurt him, so she could have whatever it was she was seeking for herself. It could be the marquess himself, simply seeking refuge from his own party. Perhaps it was a servant who, upon discovering Thomas, would give away his position and land him in jail for attempted robbery. No matter what the scenario, it all amounted to him utterly failing his mission and humiliating himself when he had to report to the War Office. For a moment, Thomas prayed it was the marquess, ready with a gun drawn to end him. Indeed, that was better than any other alternative he could think of.
However, as Thomas peeked beneath the couch shielding him, he caught a brief flash of black shoes he was certain he recognized. The ever-dimming lighting in the study made it difficult to tell, so he remained motionless. Acknowledging that he was taking a significant risk, he drew a deep breath and prepared to find out whether he was right or wrong.
“Rupert?” he hissed, keeping his voice as low as possible.
Sure enough, the familiar shoes quickly turned, so they were pointing in the direction of the couch.
“Thomas,” Rupert said, his voice confident but hushed. “Good God, you are safe. But pray, why are you hiding? Come on out now.”
Thomas pulled himself up behind the sofa, unsurprised when his friend laughed at him. He glowered at Rupert, finding no amusement in anything about the current situation.
“I looked for you before our rendezvous time,” he hissed, realizing at once that his frustration was misplaced. It was he who had left Rupert behind, not vice versa, and he had no right to be upset with his partner.
Rupert also seemed to understand. He gave Thomas a small smile, offering his hand to help Thomas pull himself from behind the back of the sofa.
“I suspected you might have caught the trail of something very important,”he said. “So, as soon as I discovered you were nowhere to be found in the ballroom, I came straight here to make sure you were all right.”
Thomas sighed, rubbing his stomach, which had begun aching dully again after his cramped crouching behind the sofa.
“I am certainly glad you did,” he said in a sullen tone. Then, he bit his lip. How could he tell his partner that a delicate young womanhadbrought him down?
Rupert immediately sensed there was more to tell, however. He gave Thomas a knowing look and retrieved the watch from his pocket.
“By the by, Thomas, what took you so long?” he asked, looking back up at Thomas with his eyebrows raised. “We only have ten minutes to get ourselves out of the study.”
Thomas stared at Rupert blankly. He could not believe so much time had passed since he had left the ballroom, and he cursed himself for cutting things so close.
Not wanting to waste another moment and not really in the mood to explain everything to his partner just then, Thomas just shook his head.
“It is a really long story,” he said. “I will explain everything on the morrow.”
Rupert immediately shook his head, clearly not willing to accept his friend’s decision. However, another glance at his watch seemed to make him change his mind, albeit reluctantly.
“Very well,” he said, eyeing Thomas suspiciously. “Did you get the book?”
