Page 17 of The Hired Hero
“A fine painting, is it not?”
Caroline whirled around with a start.
“Forgive me for startling you,” said Davenport as he took a step into the room. His gaze also moved to the portrait, and his mouth quirked. “The likeness is quite good, don’t you think?”
Caroline regarded his work-stained shirt, shabby coat and buckskins, then turned back to stare again at the gilt-framed canvas for several long moments.
“No,” she finally answered. “I don’t.”
His lips curled in a sardonic smile. “Ah, the difference in dress?”
“It isn’t that.” She knew that the prudent course of action was to remain silent. But something goaded her to go on. “There is a certain cruelty to the mouth and the eyes. Indeed, I wonder why you tolerate it to be shown at all.” Caroline paused. “It does you no credit.”
Davenport’s face betrayed a flicker of surprise. He stared thoughtfully at the portrait before returning his attention to Caroline. “Do you think it wise to be up and moving about so soon?” he inquired, abruptly changing the subject.
“I’m not used to lying abed,” she replied, then had the grace to color as she realized how boorish her actions, as well as her words, must have appeared. “Forgive me for wandering around your house uninvited.”
Davenport shrugged. “You may do as you please—we do not stand on manners here at Highwood.” Again, the hint of a sardonic smile.
“Highwood?” she repeated softly. “I do not recognize…” Her brow furrowed slightly as she pondered her dilemma. Finally, she decided to settle it herself. “I find I must ask for your forgiveness again, milord. I seem to recall that you introduced yourself earlier, but I…I can’t remember your name.”
The smile deepened into real humor. “I believe you had other things on your mind. I trust your arm is feeling better?” He inclined a slight bow. “I am Davenport.”
Caroline stepped back with an involuntary gasp. “The Earl of Davenport?” she said, in barely more than a whisper.
“Ah, how heartening to be recognized.” His tone was almost amused, but a flicker of some deeper emotion flashed in his eyes.
She could only stare at him in disbelief.What wretched luck!Of all the places she could have stumbled into, she had to have ended up on the doorstep of one of the most dissolute rakehells in England.
Oh yes, she knew of Davenport.
His scandalous behavior was often the subject of gossip among theton, and Caroline was well aware of the tales, even though unmarried young ladies were not supposed to have their ears sullied with such shocking stories.
Having a cousin who did not treat her as if she were a delicate—and witless—little creature had its uses.
The earl was regarding her as well, an inscrutable expression shading his features. Finally, he shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other and broke the silence. “You needn’t collapse in a paroxysm of terror. I prefer to choose my own victims.” A pause. “You appear to have been claimed by another.”
As Caroline went pale with anger, he walked past her to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. “As I said, we do not stand on ceremony here. It has been a long day, and I am devilishly thirsty. Would you care to join me?”
She shook her head.
“No, I didn’t think so.” His lips were curled once again in a faint smile. Furious as she was at his cutting words, Caroline couldn’t help but notice there seemed to be a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, rather than the reptilian coldness portrayed on the canvas. “You are looking a trifle pale. Perhaps you should sit down before you fall into a faint.”
“I’ve never had a fit of vapors in my life,” she retorted. “I can’t imagine a more absurd reaction to troubling news. That’s just when you need your wits about you.”
He threw back his head and laughed. It was a very pleasant sound. “You have a good deal of spirit, miss…” He looked at her expectantly.
She clamped her teeth shut.
“Hmmm.” He cocked his head to one side. “I shall have to call you something.” He looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on the arm that had been injured. “Miss Socket.” His gaze traveled up to her face. “Miss Gash. Miss Hurt.”
Her lips began to twitch.
“Ah, I have it!” He rubbed at his nose. “Miss Boxer!”
At that, she couldn’t repress a smile of her own. “Are you always so absurd, sir?”
“No. Usually it takes until the third or fourth brandy.”
