Page 10 of The Hired Hero
Caroline vaguely recalled being taught by her governess how many bones were in the human body. It was quite a large number—and every single one of hers seemed to hurt abominably. At least, she noted, she was no longer lying on hard ground but in a blessedly soft bed, with an eiderdown coverlet pulled up over her.
Then, suddenly, as she became more fully conscious, the memories of the past few days came flooding back.
“My clothes!” She tried to raise her head but fell back with a gasp.
“Easy now, miss.” The man turned back to her. “Don’t try to move. You’ve taken a nasty blow to the head.”
Ignoring the advice, Caroline tried to sit up again, but he gently held her shoulders down.
“There’s no need to be alarmed, miss. Your dress and, er, other garments are right here. Mrs. Collins has placed them over a chair to dry.”
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“I am Dr. Laskins…”
Another voice interrupted the physician. “The more appropriate question is, who areyou?”
Caroline couldn’t see the speaker. She ignored the question. “How did I get here? The last thing I remember is being accosted by some ruffian. I fought him off…”
A low chuckle sounded. “Indeed, Laskins is treatingtwopatients this morning. His verdict is that I shall survive. Your condition, however, is causing him a bit more concern.”
As the speaker stepped forward and leaned over her, she saw that his eyes were no longer bloodshot, which only emphasized the startling depth of their sapphire color. His cheeks were freshly shaven, revealing a lean, strong jaw and chin whose squareness was broken only by a slight cleft in the middle. As for the chiseled lips, they were curved in a hint of a smile…
Though not nearly as close as during their first encounter, it was indeed the same face—Caroline recognized the small hairline scar that ran along the cheekbone, the only subtle flaw in an otherwise dashingly handsome visage.
“I’m Davenport,” he added. “Let me inquire once again—who are you?”
Caroline closed her eyes, resolved to say nothing until she had had time to think more clearly.
“Milord, the young lady has suffered a severe blow to the head. Let us not tax her until she feels strong enough to speak,” counseled the physician. “The important thing is for her to rest. The laudanum will soon be taking effect, and that should dull the pain she must be in.”
Caroline did feel a pleasant wooziness creeping over her.Stay mum, she urged herself. But she couldn’t help it. One eye flicked open, taking in the gentleman’s rough flaxen shirt and worn jacket. “A lord,” she mumbled. “You must be joking. Looks more like a…a farmhand.”
Davenport gave a short laugh. “You have the right of it there, my mysterious stranger. I’m nought but a farmer. Which reminds me, I have a meeting with my steward. So, as you advise, Laskins, we will postpone any further questions until later.”
Dr. Laskins closed his portmanteau. “I shall return this afternoon. She should be more alert by then.”
Caroline certainly hoped so. She needed all her wits about her to decide what to do next.
* * *
The Duke of Cheviotpaced up and down beside the command tent, heedless of the thick mud that was working its way up his tall Hessians. In the distance, the dull thuds of cannon fire reverberated in the hills. A military aide rushed out of the tent, quickly mounted a big chestnut stallion and urged the animal into a full gallop. He was followed by an older gentleman whose bearing, as well as his uniform, marked him as the officer in command.
“General…” began the duke.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace, your group must move out with us. The lines to the north have been cut off.”
“But Imustreturn to London! It is a matter of the utmost urgency, I assure you.”
The general shook his head. “Not possible. We must move immediately.”
“Perhaps with an escort? The lives of many of our men may depend on it.”
The general frowned. “I tell you, it’s too risky. I don’t know your exact mission, Your Grace, but I do know that Whitehall is depending on me to keep you safe.” A brusque frown. “Besides, there are no men to spare. Perhaps in a few days you may journey to the coast—assuming luck is on our side.”
The duke clenched his hands. “May I at least send a letter through?”
The general gazed into the distance, his eyes riveted on the thin red lines that were moving through a ruined cornfield. “Nothing but military dispatches,” he snapped. “Can’t you see what is happening here? Gather the rest of your party and be ready to move in ten minutes.”
