Page 42 of The Hired Hero
Davenport looked about to argue, but Caroline fixed him with a glare. “If you so much as twitch, sir, I shall be forced to sit on your chest to keep you from making a fuss. You heard Mr. Leighton. His reasoning makes great sense.”
The earl muttered severalveryungentlemanly words but ceased his struggling.
Caroline couldn’t help but remember the stunningly beautiful lady in Jeremy’s drawing, and she found herself wondering why the earl should be disturbed about the prospect of ending up on her doorstep.How romantic to arrive—the bloodstained hero—in need of help from one’s beloved…
At that moment, she found herself taking a distinct dislike to Lady Helen.
The earl was still glowering at her, but after an aggrieved huff, he turned away to stare off into the trees.
The gig turned onto a long, winding drive that carried them through a stand of ancient beech and elm. At the crest of a hill was a modest stone manor house that overlooked a rocky inlet. Jeremy pulled the exhausted horse to a halt in the courtyard as an elderly groom shuffled out from the stable to eye the vehicle with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
Davenport climbed down stiffly from the back, brushing wisps of straw from his rumpled coat. “Kindly inform Lady Davenport that she has some visitors, Davis.”
The man stared in open-mouthed confusion until it suddenly dawned on him who it was. “Y-Yes, Mister Ather—that is, milord. Right away.” After bobbing a hurried bow, he scurried away.
“Oh, the Devil take it, we might as well wait in the drawing room,” muttered the earl after a quarter hour had passed. Crossing the courtyard, Caroline and Jeremy trailing in his wake, the earl mounted the stone stairs, and, without knocking, he yanked open the massive oak door and stepped inside.
The entrance hall was small but charming. The dark woodwork exuded the pleasant scent of beeswax, a vase of wildflowers decorated the side table and a large, ornately framed painting of the sea dominated the wall opposite the curved staircase.
Caroline recognized it as a work by Jeremy.
A man she assumed to be the butler hurried out of the corridor. His carefully schooled features betrayed no hint of his emotion at seeing the odd little party in front of him. “Milord, I have sent word to Her Ladyship of your arrival. If you would care to wait in the…”
“Julian!” There was a rustle of silk from the top of the stairs, and an instant later, a slender figure appeared around the curve of the banister. The lady paused for a fraction, allowing a muted gasp, then rushed down the remaining steps. “Dear heavens, what has happened?”
“I apologize for intruding on you in such an unseemly manner—” began Davenport.
“It’s my fault, Lady Helen,” interrupted Jeremy. “You see, we had an incident?—”
“Have you basilicum powder, hot water and clean linen?” In no mood to let the two men stumble through long-winded explanations, Caroline took matters into her own hands. The earl was looking decidedly pale beneath all the travel dust, and she didn’t like the look of the new splotch that was spreading out from the tear in his coat.
Lady Helen turned, taking in the sight of Caroline’s muddy boots, ragged breeches and torn shirt, as well as the curls of honey-gold hair that had escaped the tattered hat and were now hanging in tangled disarray.
Her mouth fell open in shock, and it took a long moment for her to recover her wits. “I…I imagine so. Mrs. Dawkins would know?—”
“Then please, let us summon her without delay,” interrupted Caroline.
Lady Helen looked confused, then nodded at the butler, who hurried off.
Davenport shot a reproachful look at Caroline before offering a halting explanation. “I’m afraid we’ve gotten into a bit of a scrape. I’m sorry that Jeremy saw fit to come to you, but now that we are here, perhaps we might clean ourselves up and have a bit of breakfast.”
“Julian, you know I would be glad to do anything to help.” She approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was then that she noticed the damage to his coat. “Why, you’re hurt!”
“Just a scrape,” he muttered.
Lady Helen shrank back. “Oh, but there is…blood. Shall I send for a physician? Or…or perhaps Mrs. Dawkins will know what to do.”
“I don’t think a physician will be necessary,” interjected Caroline. “I believe I can attend to His Lordship, if you will show us to a room where he might lie down.”
The butler reappeared, followed by the housekeeper bearing a large tray that was holding all of the items Caroline had requested.
Lady Helen let out a sigh of relief. “Dawkins, please take His Lordship right up to the bedchamber overlooking the garden.” She faltered, then added, “And perhaps his…friend would like to make use of the one next to mine.”
As everyone moved toward the stairs, Lady Helen held Jeremy back. “Who is that…urchin with Julian?” she whispered in his ear.
“It’s rather a long story…”
* * *
