Page 45 of The Hired Hero
When Caroline didn’t reply to the knock on her door, Davenport hesitated for a moment, then let himself into her chamber.
She was asleep. Her hair, still damp from her bath, fanned out over the pillow, the sunlight catching glints of gold and copper. He had to restrain the urge to brush the stray tendrils from her cheek and the corner of her mouth. The dressing gown had parted slightly to reveal a deep notch of creamy skin. At that moment, his feisty companion-in-arms looked almost fragile—and undeniably feminine.
He smiled at the thought of her garbed in her male breeches and boots—and then found himself wondering what she would look like in an elegant ballgown cut low and slim to flatter her willowy form, her hair artfully dressed to highlight her expressive features…
Caroline stirred, her fingers moving restlessly up to the pillow to catch at the ragged jacket folded under its downy bulk.Slender hands, and yet so capable—throwing a credible shot to his nose, handling the reins of his stallion, tending his injured shoulder…
And now guarding that rag of a garment.Lud, she seemed to cling to it like it were some sort of talisman. But if it brought her some modicum of comfort, he supposed there was no harm in it. With a harried sigh, he reached down and gently pulled the quilt back up to cover her, then slipped from the room.
Lady Helen and Jeremy were in the drawing room. Though the young man didn’t appear to have slept a wink, he still seemed to crackle with pent-up excitement, and his eyes had a gleam to them that caused the earl to smile inwardly. The adventure seemed to be doing his friend a world of good.
Davenport helped himself to a cup of tea and a piece of toast. There was a long silence as he ate, then he moved to the tall mullioned windows and gazed out over the sea.
Jeremy shifted from foot to foot, impatient with his friend’s reticence, until finally he could bear it no longer.
“Julian,” he exclaimed. “Have you decided what we should do?”
“We?” repeated the earl. “Whatyouare going to do is take the gig and return home.”
Jeremy’s face took on an expression as stubborn as that of their other companion.
The earl sighed. “Have you forgotten that Nero needs looking after? You’ve done more than your share in helping us out of this coil. Rest assured that I shall see Miss Caroline safely to her destination.”
“As to that, sir, I think that I have some sort of say in what comes next, milord,” came a voice from the doorway.
She was dressed as a lad again, save for that her hair was still loose, simply swept back and tied with a single ribbon. The others had turned at the sound of her voice, but Davenport remained facing the window, hands clasped behind his back, watching her reflection in the paned glass.
* * *
“Julian wishes topack me off back home, like a helpless child,” muttered Jeremy as he cast a dark look at the earl before looking to Caroline for support.
“I’m sorry, but on that point I’m in agreement with him.” At the sight of his injured expression, Caroline huffed a sympathetic sigh. “There’s the matter of the gig too. We can’t have the Runners coming after you.” She refrained from adding that on no account would she risk exposing him to any further physical danger.
“Oh, very well,” conceded Jeremy. “I suppose you have a point. We don’t want Bow Street to become involved.”
“How do you mean to go on?” asked Lady Helen. “Do you wish to take my carriage?”
Caroline considered the question. She glanced at Davenport, but he gave no indication of paying any attention to the conversation. “It appears my nemesis has quite a network of informants along the roads,” she began. Her brow furrowed. “Hmmm.”
It was Lady Helen who thought of it first. “I daresay this is a wild notion, but there is a small sailing boat moored in the cove. One of the tenant farmers uses it on occasion to fetch supplies from Portsmouth. I don’t suppose you know how to…”
“Enough!” exploded Davenport. “Ye gods, don’t be giving her any more harebrained schemes! She manages to come up with enough of them on her own.”
Caroline heard his words with only half an ear, her attention focused on his face as he turned to look at Lady Helen.
Her stomach gave a strange little lurch. So it was true—Davenport wasn’t in love with the lady.
“But, Julian,” protested Jeremy. “It’s not harebrained at all! Portsmouth is a main base for the Royal Navy, and with all the fleet activity, there must be hundreds of small craft going in and out of the harbor. Given the constant movement of sailors, supplies and official dispatches, it would be impossible for anyone to keep a careful watch on all the traffic coming and going. So slipping onto a coach to London unnoticed shouldn’t be difficult at all.”
“It hardly matters what His Lordship thinks.” Caroline had regained a measure of control over her thoughts. “He isn’t coming, regardless of what means I choose to use.”
Her chin came up a fraction. “And you needn’t worry about the money, sir. I will see that you receive the full amount for what you have already done.”
Davenport’s eyes took on a distinct shade of slate blue. She knew it meant that a storm was about to unleash its fury. But instead of answering her, he took up a bottle of brandy from the sideboard and stalked from the room without a word.
The door closed behind him with a resounding bang.
The three of them exchanged uncomfortable looks.
