Page 32 of The Hired Hero
Davenport quirked a wry smile. “Ah, but then I would lose my thousand pounds.”
Caroline looked up just quickly enough to catch a glint of humor in his eyes. “Don’t be a fool?—”
“I’m afraid it’s far too late to correct that.” He sat down beside her. “By the by, what have you done? Stolen the family jewels?”
She shook her head. “I can’t tell you that.”
He regarded her thoughtfully.
Caroline released a shaky sigh, wishing that she dared confide in him. “I don’t know…whom to trust.”
The earl looked away. “I see.” His tone hardened. “Certainly not a dissolute fellow like me.”
“It’s not…”What could she say without revealing too much?“You don’t understand. It involves more than…” She gave up trying to explain and merely shook her head in mute confusion.
There was a long silence. Davenport picked up a small stone and skimmed it across the water, sending ripples out across the smooth surface from the point of impact. He appeared to have forgotten her presence, so intent was he on watching the quixotic patterns. Then, abruptly, he spoke again.
“You now owe me for a horse, as well as the agreed-upon thousand pounds.”
It was the mention of the dead gelding that finally brought tears to Caroline’s eyes. “Poor thing,” she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “I never meant for…”
“Of course you didn’t—and it does no good to dwell on it.” Davenport laid a hand on her arm. “Come now, buck up your spirits. Surely, you’re not going to become missus on me over a small thing like someone trying to put a period to your existence?”
Caroline had to laugh in spite of herself. “Well, since you put it that way…” She wiped at her cheek with the frayed cuff of her jacket. “Do you always see the absurd in a situation?”
He smiled slightly. “The world can be a very cruel place. Having a sense of humor helps to take the edge off it.”
She regarded him intently. “You sound as if you have…suffered more than your share.”
“Does that seem so—” He hesitated, and then shook his head. “You’re able to laugh at adversity as well, despite what you’ve been through. You have spirit, Miss Caroline-Whoever-You-Are. Until now, I would never have imagined that a young lady could show such fortitude and courage.”
Caroline pondered his words for a long moment. “It seems we keep surprising each other. I wouldn’t have imagined a reputed wastrel could show such backbone or brains.” She gave a reluctant grin. “We are an odd pair, are we not, sir?”
Her words seemed to put him off balance, and he merely grunted in answer. But after a moment or two, he asked abruptly, “Why do you ladies put up with such cruelty and allow yourselves to remain in thrall to men who abuse you? I admit, I’m at a loss to comprehend it.”
Caroline stared at him, first with disbelief, then with a simmering anger. She had spent enough time tending to her father’s tenants that she had seen something of the real world. More than one farmwife of her acquaintance had sported bruises with frightening regularity. Though there were always explanations of careless falls and other such accidents, she hadn’t missed the muttered talk among the other women about husbands who vented their frustrations with life on those unable to defend themselves in any way.
“You speak as if we have much of a choice,” she said. “Or perhaps you’ve conveniently forgotten that in our society, those of my sex are considered the property of their husbands, with no more rights than a hound or a horse. We have no property of our own, no recourse under the law—you men are free to treat us as you will, with no fear of reprisals.”
Her voice rose. “And even if we run away, how do we exist without money—even you can comprehend that! Then, what if there are children? Do you think any caring mother could abandon her offspring? For I’ll remind you again, a woman has no right to her children! She can’t take them away from a violent man!”
Caroline closed her eyes for an instant. “How dare you speak of choice, milord? It’s hardly as simple as you suggest.”
A look of shock, followed by a touch of embarrassment, crossed Davenport’s face. “I…I hadn’t thought of it quite like that,” he admitted.
“I’m sure you hadn’t,” she replied, but her tone turned a trifle less sharp. “Perhaps in the future you won’t be so quick to judge.”
He looked away, his mouth pursing in a thoughtful expression. “Do you have children?” he asked softly.
She shook her head.
After an awkward silence, Caroline cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose those dastards are able to follow us yet, but we had better decide what to do—assuming you really do mean to continue on with me?”
“I told you, I need the blunt,” he replied, but his tone softened the words. He seemed a bit relieved to have the subject changed. “Besides, my life was sadly flat until you tumbled into it. Why, I only had to cope with angry creditors, sullen tenants and badgering tradesmen. Now I have had the privilege of having someone try to put a period to my existence.”
She rose, wiping her hands on her tight-fitting breeches, and managed a grim smile. “Have you any idea where we are and how we can reach London? I admit I’m at a loss for any ideas.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
