Page 10 of A Masked Lady for Mr. Kenworthy
Thomas shrugged again and sighed.
“I think that perhaps I should request to be removed from the case altogether,” he said. “I do not take failure well, and I certainly could not deal with failing once more, especially at the same task.”
Rupert looked at Thomas as though he were mad.
“You are not taking my meaning, Thomas,” he said. “You are still overlooking a vital detail in all of this.”
Thomas shook his head in exasperation, his eyebrows raised.
“What on earth do you mean?” he asked.
Rupert leaned forward, pushing his plate aside.
“You now know what Gabriella looks like,” he said. “Never mind the journal, or the marquess, or any of the other matters for now. This is some of the most important information we could possibly present to the War Office. There will be other opportunities to try again for Lord Turlington’s journal. But no one has ever been as close to Gabriella Dupont as you were last night. You would be able to identify her. After months of searching for her, the War Office should finally be able to bring her in for questioning. I would hardly call that a failure, my dear fellow.”
Thomas nodded slowly. Despite having Gabriella’s face haunt him all night long, he had missed that fact. He had gotten close enough to the infamous French spy to touch her. He had danced with her. She had even kicked him. He now had more information about her than anyone in any department of the War Office. And he knew precisely what she looked like. He might not have gotten the journal from Lord Turlington, but he had tidings that no one else could provide.
After a moment, he sighed, trying to let the knowledge ease his restless mind.
“Well,” he said, pushing his plate aside. “One can hope that that is enough.”
Rupert smiled knowingly at Thomas, abandoning his own plate.
“I know it will be,” he said.
Thomas excused himself, nodding to his partner, but not as certain of Rupert’s conviction as he seemed to be. What if it was not enough?
Thomas spent a few hours late that morning trying to rest before it was time to report the previous night’s incidents to his superior. He succeeded in little more than a half-hour doze in the chair in his bedchambers as he looked out of his window. Yet, when it was time for him and Rupert to head to the private location where they were supposed to meet their superior for their briefing, he was wide-eyed and alert because he was so nervous.I should have no trouble sleeping tonight,he thought bitterly, as he boarded the carriage with Rupert.
When they arrived at the little empty building where they had agreed to meet their chief, Thomas had to swallow his nerves. What was done was done, and there was nothing he could do to change it. He would have to go into the meeting with his head high and hope that something good came out of the afternoon. Darwin, the head of his and Rupert’s intelligence department, greeted them formally as they entered the building. Darwin had taken the liberty of bringing a bottle of brandy and three clean glasses in a picnic basket, and Thomas could not help feeling relieved. He took a generous sip of his drink as soon as his chief handed it to him, earning him a curious look from his superior.
“My,” Darwin said, giving a little chuckle. “You know how to get straight to business.”
Thomas avoided the man’s gaze, offering a weak, nervous chuckle.
Darwin was, of course, too astute to ignore Thomas’s reaction. He took a sip of his own drink, then folded his arms across his chest.
“Come now,” he said, “what news do the two of you have of your mission at Turlington Manor?”
Rupert gave Thomas a look which told him to keep silent. But Thomas knew what his partner was about to do, and he could not allow it. Thomas gave Rupert a small, grateful smile and a gentle shake of his head. Rupert dipped his head, patting Thomas briefly on the shoulder as he took a step back to allow Thomas to take the entirety of Darwin’s attention. After a long, deep breath, Thomas explained everything that had happened at the ball, exactly as he had told it to Rupert on their way home the previous night. And, as Thomas had feared, their chief was especially angry that Thomas had been spotted by someone else while he searched for the book.
“Do you realize what this means?” Darwin asked, running his hands through his thinning red hair in frustration. “That book was the only piece of evidence that we know of to uncover what the marquess is up to. And worst of all, a woman we do not know saw you. Truly, things could not have gone any worse if we had planned to muck it up.”
Rupert cleared his throat loudly, gently pushing Thomas aside. Thomas allowed his partner to do so, feeling even more ashamed and worried than he had imagined he would.
“All is not lost, Darwin,” he said, giving Thomas a sly smile. “And you are incorrect about something. We do, in fact, know the woman who spotted Thomas in the study.”
Darwin’s expression did not change, but he took his glaring eyes off Thomas and focused on Rupert instead.
“Good God!” he said, clearly unconvinced that anything Rupert had to say would make any difference. “Who is she?”
Rupert glanced at Thomas once more, then grinned his bright, charming smile.
“None other than Gabriella Dupont,” he said proudly.
Darwin’s expression did change then. His mouth dropped, and his eyes widened so far, Thomas thought they might fall out of their sockets. He stared at Rupert silently for a moment. Then, he turned back to Thomas, hope shimmering in his eyes.
“Is this true?” he asked, raising an eyebrow warily. “Are you certain?”
