Page 48 of The Hired Hero
The second sip was not nearly so bad. In fact, she decided that, like so many other things, brandy was something rather nice that men had conspired to keep to themselves. A pleasant tingling began to replace the numbing cold in her limbs. She sighed and slumped even more heavily against the solid warmth of the earl’s body. A smile drifted to her face as she listened to the wind in the rigging and the rush of water against the hull. “What a sail—it was quite exhilarating!”
He chuckled again. “Does nothing dampen your spirits?”
She grinned as drops of spray beaded on her face and shimmered in her hair. “Every other part of me seems to be soaked, but my spirit? I’m afraid I’m a bit like a dog with a bone in his teeth in that regard. I don’t give up very easily.”
His mouth quirked slightly. “So I have seen. But at least you will allow that it wasn’t such a bad idea in consenting to let me come along for the ride. You might have landed in the suds—quite literally—had you attempted this on your own.”
She colored. “I’m not such a slowtop as to think I could have managed as well by myself, sir. I didn’t want you to come, not because I would have preferred to be alone but rather because I didn’t want to put you in danger. You were nearly killed last night on my account, and I cannot—I will not—allow it to happen again.”
Davenport shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m being well paid for it, remember?” he said gruffly. “It’s in my own best interest to see you reach London—I have a desperate need of that money.”
“I see.” A note of coolness crept into her voice. “Well, rest assured that when we land, you may take yourself off, and I will still send you the full amount. You’ve certainly earned it.”
“I didn’t mean—” He cut off his words with an exasperated shake of his head. “You know, you are quite unlike any female I have ever met before.”
“Yes, I know full well I lack the delicate sensibilities that those of my sex are supposed to exhibit in order to please society and attract a gentleman. I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at falling into a faint or succumbing to a fit of vapors when trouble arises. No doubt that is one of the reasons I shall have little luck in finding a…”
She stopped short. “Well, it is one of the reasons my cousin has pronounced me an incorrigible hoyden.”
Davenport mulled over her words while taking another drink. He found his curiosity was piqued, for he wondered whether he had finally discovered the root of her troubles. “You speak frequently of this cousin of yours. Were you forced into a marriage you didn’t want? Is it he you are in love with rather than your husband? Is that who you are fleeing to?”
“I should be well glad if Luc—if my cousin is in London, but I fear he won’t be.” Her expression turned contemplative as she studied her hands for several long moments. The earl had just about decided that no further words would be forthcoming when she spoke again.
“As for being in love with him—of course I love him. He’s been like an older brother to me throughout our childhood. But I can’t imagine having anything but sisterly affection for him. Certainly not to the sort of love you are referring to.”
“Then who are you running to?” A pause. “And who are you running from?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes seemed to seek out a point way off on the horizon. He remained silent as well, the tight line of his mouth the only indication of his disappointment in her lack of trust. Taking the tiller in one hand, Davenport lifted the brandy bottle to his lips and took another few gulps. On nearing the dregs, he offered her a final shot.
“Well, here’s to both of us making it to London in one piece. With the way things have been going, the outcome is still very much in doubt.”
Caroline roused herself from her reverie and downed a goodly mouthful. “Oh, I don’t doubt it at all,” she said. Then she promptly fell asleep against his shoulder.
Davenport’s expression softened into a grudging smile. He had meant what he had said—she was truly unlike any other female of his acquaintance. Most people likely missed the vulnerability hidden beneath her pluck and courage. A glance down at her face, unguarded in repose, showed a bewitching mixture of strength and need. One thing was certain: she was utterly wrong about what qualities were all that attracted a gentleman’s attention.
The earl steered his thoughts away from those dangerous waters. It would be best to remember why he was here.
As he had said, he needed the money.
Recalling the rest of his recent words made him grimace. How the devil had he managed to throw her concern for him back in her face in such a churlish way? With a sigh, he had to acknowledge to himself that it wasn’t the first time he had shown to disadvantage. His behavior had, for the most part, been less than gentlemanly since he had met her. No wonder she thought him an ill-tempered dog… Or was it a bear?
In either case, he didn’t like the notion one bit.
But the fact that she found him disagreeable hadn’t prevented her from having a concern for his safety. It puzzled him. Despite the dire threat to her own life, her thoughts had turned to how she could shield him from further danger. Not to speak of how she had tended to his wound, cradled him through the jolts of the long journey and then cleaned and stitched the jagged flesh before seeing to her own needs.
It was almost as if she…cared for him. But then, in a trice, her tongue could turn from soothing to scathing.
Maybe it was the brandy, or the fatigue, or the dull ache of the gash in his shoulder, but it all seemed terribly confusing. Rapacious creditors, sullen tenants, fallow fields—they were all problems he could face without a qualm, he thought glumly. But a certain young lady seemed to be oversetting his carefully constructed world.
For now, however, he had better put aside all questions regarding the maddening little urchin.
Perhaps at some point, he could make some sense of it all.
The afternoon was fading rapidly. The storm clouds had given way to high, billowing heralds of good weather, which were beginning to take on the luminous pink and orange hues of sunset. In the distance, a massive ship of the line tacked into view, its towering square sails almost blinding in the golden light.
He hesitated a moment before gently nudging Caroline out of her slumber, somehow loath to let go of the comfortable intimacy between them.
“Where are we?” she mumbled, still muzzy with sleep.
