Page 40 of The Hired Hero
Time was running out.
* * *
It could have been worse,thought Caroline as the gig hit yet another rut. If the vehicle had been able to travel at more than a plodding walk, the jarring would no doubt have been even more uncomfortable. As it was, the jostling was tolerable, but the sedate pace set her teeth on edge.
Would she never make any progress toward London?
Yet another bump caused the earl’s leg to bounce up and press up against hers. Caroline could feel the solid contours of his muscled thigh, the heat of his body that was emanating from beneath the snug buckskins. It was disconcerting, yet oddly comforting. She made no move to pull away. Indeed, after another jolt, she reached out to cradle his shoulders. The constant bumping could have been doing no good for his wound.
Shifting even closer, Caroline settled Davenport’s head on her chest. His breathing was labored, but there was no sign of fever on his brow. She brushed back the dark locks, letting her fingers linger on his sun-bronzed skin. In repose, the planes of his face appeared softer and more vulnerable than when he was awake. Still, the signs of worry and strain were visible in the lines etched around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth.
With a guilty shiver, Caroline realized that she had only added to them. Yesterday, the thought of it wouldn’t have upset her greatly. But now, she found that it mattered a great deal to her. Rather than add to Davenport’s burdens, she wished she could help to ease them.
If only there was a way to keep the laughter and warmth she had glimpsed in his sapphirine eyes from being darkened by whatever demons jabbed at his thoughts.
His breath tickled her neck with the gossamer lightness of a summer breeze. Yes, his moods could be stormy. And yet, she had also witnessed that he was capable of great gentleness.
A sigh. There was so much to think about concerning the earl…if only she could keep her eyes open.
* * *
Davenport awokewith the strangest feeling that a horse was sitting on his head.A bizarre dream, no doubt!Still muzzy with sleep, he shifted slightly to banish the odd sensation. However, the soft warmth beneath his cheek was no figment of his imagination. It felt quite pleasant, and he had no desire to do away with it. With a deep sigh of contentment, he burrowed his head deeper. His hand also came up to seek out the heat, closing lightly over a tantalizingly soft mound…
“Oh!”
Davenport’s eyes flew open in confusion. His hand slid away from Caroline’s chest, and he started to sit up.
Caroline quickly restrained him. “Don’t try to move, milord. I fear you may open your wound.”
He was suddenly aware of the sharp throbbing in his shoulder, the jostling of the gig and the prickle of hay under his coat. “What happened? Where the devil are we?”
“You’ve been shot,” she replied. “You fainted. Mr. Leighton and I managed to carry you to a stable and…well, we have borrowed a gig and are taking you somewhere safe so that your wound can be properly tended.”
“Fainted? Only females faint,” he muttered. “Where are we going?”
Caroline repressed a grin. “What I meant, sir, is that you passed out from loss of blood. As to where we are going, I don’t know.”
He probed gingerly at his injury. “It’s been bandaged. How…”
“I managed to stop the bleeding, though I fear that both of our shirts are quite the worse for it.” She wriggled up into a sitting position so that his shoulders rested in her lap and his head remained cradled against her chest. “But truly, you must stop moving about. Please try to get some more rest.”
It was a novel experience to have someone fussing overhiswell-being. Davenport realized that he had no inclination to disobey her order to remain still. He was quite comfortable where he was.
His eyes were on the verge of drooping shut when he suddenly noticed the cut on her mouth. “Damnation, that poxy varlet struck you!”
“Yes, well, I suppose another bruise hardly matters.” Her tongue ran lightly over the split in her lip.
To the earl’s consternation, the fleeting gesture sent a frisson through his limbs.
Caroline tugged the blanket up higher. “Are you chilled, milord?”
He merely grunted, closing his eyes to hide the flare of desire he was sure would be evident in them. His senses must have been addled from shock, he thought. There was no other explanation.
“You have real backbone, Miss Caroline,” he said softly, finally managing to take control of his thoughts.
“It’s quite easy to appear brave when someone is always coming to the rescue. Once again, you had to—how did you put it?—scrape me out of the mud.” A rueful smile tugged at her mouth. “It must be getting very tiresome.”
He mumbled something under his breath.
