Page 27 of The Hired Hero
Davenport gave a harsh laugh. “You think so?” Then he fell silent.
“Did the two of you not get along?”
“It hardly matters now. He’s dead.”
She bit her lip. “I’m…sorry.”
“I’m not.” He got up abruptly to his feet and walked off toward where the horses were grazing.
She rose and followed him. He was checking the saddles and girths. “You needn’t get up,” he growled. “Why don’t you rest a little longer so I won’t have to scrape you out of the mud yet again?”
Caroline laid a hand on his forearm. “I’m truly sorry, milord. I didn’t mean to stir painful memories.”
“You have no idea as to what I am feeling,” he snapped, brushing her hand away.
To her intense mortification, Caroline felt tears welling in her eyes. She thrust his coat at him. “You’re right, sir, I don’t—except for the obvious fact that you have taken an intense dislike to me. I shall endeavor to stay out of your way as much as possible for the rest of the trip.” With as much dignity as she could muster, she turned to fetch her saddlebags.
“Oh, bloody hell,” he muttered.
Nine
The inn was a shabby affair, small and run down like the rough dwellings they had passed since turning onto the rutted country road.
Davenport drew to a halt before they reached the unswept stableyard. “We’re unlikely to meet any other travelers here,” he remarked. “And it should be cheaper than along the main roads—though no doubt we’ll be fleabitten by morning.”
He turned to Caroline. Neither of them had spoken since their exchange of words some hours earlier. “Leave the talking to me. Contrary to what you might think, your voice doesn’t sound in the least like that of a groom.”
“I am not a complete idiot,” she said stiffly. “My cousin also counseled me to keep mum.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Then how did you expect to pull off the masquerade on your own?”
“I would have thought of something.” Caroline thought for a moment. “I could have feigned an indisposition that had robbed me of my voice—I would have whispered, and that I can do in a low tone.”
A fleeting smile touched his lips. “You are incorrigible.”
“No, milord. I am desperate.”
When they dismounted, it took a few minutes before a gangly lad shuffled out from the stables to take the horses.
“See that they are properly rubbed down and fed,” ordered the earl as he handed over his reins. “There’s a copper for you if you do.”
That brought a glimmer of interest to the boy’s bored face. “Oiy, sir. I’ll take good care of them.”
Davenport slung his bag over his shoulder. Caroline did the same. On reaching the door, he took firm hold of her arm. “Lean into me,” he said in a low voice as they crossed the threshold. “And keep your head down.”
Caroline needed little encouragement. She was exhausted, and his shoulder felt reassuringly solid and warm as she slumped against it.
The taproom was dark, and smoke swirled in the fetid air, though only a handful of locals were sitting hunched over their tankards of ale. The murmur of voices ceased as all heads turned to look at the newcomers but quickly picked up again when it became obvious they were of no interest.
A wiry man of indeterminate age came around from behind the bar, taking in their nondescript clothing and dusty boots with a practiced eye. When the earl asked for a night’s lodging, he named a price and demanded payment in advance.
Davenport shrugged. “Show me the room—my groom is taken ill and needs to lie down.” He straightened to his full height, and his voice hardened with a tone of authority. “And make sure it is one where the sheets have been laundered in the last month.”
The proprietor regarded him with a flicker of surprise, then grunted and bade them to follow him up a set of rickety stairs. He pushed open the first door on the right. The room held two narrow bedstands. Squeezed up against the far wall was a simple pine dresser with a cracked mirror that was hanging slightly askew above it. The bedding, however, looked only marginally gray, and the floor had recently been swept, though traces of dust still clung to the unwaxed boards.
After a quick glance around, the earl dug for his purse and took out a few coins. “We’ll want some supper,” he said, handing them over. “I shall be down shortly. Have a tray ready for the lad. He’ll take his meal up here.”
As soon as the door closed, Caroline sank onto the nearest bed with a sigh of relief. Davenport tossed his bag on the other one, causing her to look up in surprise.
