Page 23 of The Hired Hero
She stared at him. No doubt wondering whether he had taken leave of his sanity.
The sound of his laughter trailed off, and he turned to her with a sigh of bemused resignation.
“Seeing as I am at my wits’ end, perhaps you have some idea of how to proceed.” His glance traveled over her breeches and boots once more. “You seem to have no lack of imagination.”
Caroline sat down abruptly. “As a matter of fact, I do have a proposal.”
His mouth twitched at the corners. “I rather thought you might. Well, let’s have it.”
She squared her shoulders. “You are obviously in dire need of funds. And I am in dire need of reaching a certain destination without further delay. So I propose a partnership of sorts. If you will help me get there, I will pay you very well.”
“And just where are you going?”
Caroline hesitated for a moment, as if deciding whether she could trust him. “London.”
“How much?” he asked.
“A thousand pounds.”
Davenport gave a bark of laughter. “Good lord, are you truly intent on making a monkey of me this morning? Or have you received another knock on the head, one that has caused you to take leave of your senses?” He shook his head. “A thousand pounds, indeed.”
“It is no joke, sir,” said Caroline indignantly. “I promise you, when we reach London, you shall have it.”
He merely chuckled. “Yes, and I shall eat gooseberry tarts perched atop Parliament, too.”
“You doubt my word?”
He stopped laughing.
“Do you?” she persisted. “No doubt you wouldn’t think of insulting a man’s honor by refusing to accept his word.”
The earl drew his brows together thoughtfully. “Hmmm.” Once again, his fingers began drumming on the desk as he mulled over her words. The fact of the matter was, he needed to pay a visit to his man of affairs in Town at some point soon. And even though it was likely that her offer was merely a desperate ploy, in the event that her family would be grateful, he could sorely use a thousand pounds.
But there was something else as well—something oddly touching about her pluck.
“Let me make sure I understand you,” he said slowly. “You wish to hire me to escort you to London, for which service I will receive one thousand pounds?”
“That is correct, milord.”
Perhaps it was madness, but after a long moment, Davenport gave a curt nod. “Very well, we have a deal, miss…”
“My name is Caroline,” she offered.
“Truly?”
She nodded. “Yes, truly. But that is all I will tell you.”
Davenport didn’t argue. Leaning back in his chair, he speared her with a piercing gaze. “Now that my role is little more than a hired lackey, have you given any thought as to how we may travel to London? I take it you’ve inspected the stables well enough to know I wasn’t telling you a hum when I said there is no carriage.”
He picked up the meager purse and let it drop. “I doubt there is enough for two fares on the mail coach, even if we take outside passage.”
“But you have two horses. And they are already saddled.”
“You have no proper riding clothes, and—you can’t mean…”
“That’sexactlywhat I mean,” replied Caroline. “It is the simplest and quickest means. I shall be your groom. Trust me, I’m quite good at pulling it off. Luc—” She paused. “That is, a male cousin has on occasion taken me to mills and a tavern with no one being the wiser.”
He closed his eyes. “He should be birched.” There was a slight pause. “You are serious, aren’t you?”
