Page 61 of The Hired Hero
“He wants you to leave at once for Roxbury Manor. With a timely warning and you to oversee the household, disaster may be averted.”
“Jenkins!” roared Sir Henry.
The butler appeared quickly enough that it seemed likely his ear had been glued to the keyhole.
“Have the traveling carriage brought around immediately!”
Farrington suppressed a smug laugh. “Sir, His Grace also suggests that you take Jenkins with you, as well as your footmen. It cannot hurt to be fully prepared.”
Jenkins thrust out his chest and drew himself up to full height. “I shall be honored to help the family in any way.”
Lord Henry hesitated. “But that will mean leaving the house without a man to watch over it. What if…”
The critical moment had arrived.
Farrington cleared his throat. “Milord, if I may be so bold, I would be happy to offer my services here in order to be of help to His Grace.”
The other man clapped him on the shoulder. “No wonder Thomas thinks so highly of you, Mr. Farrington. You are sure you don’t mind? It could be…dangerous.”
“No, I don’t mind.” Farrington made a bow in order to hide his smirk of triumph. “I don’t mind at all.”
* * *
The mail coachlurched to a stop at the busy posting inn on the outskirts of London. It was nearly dark, yet the yard was filled with the stomping of hooves, the creaking of harnesses and the muttered curses of the ostlers as they sought to make the changes as quickly as possible and get the various vehicles on their way.
Caroline and Davenport dismounted, stiff with travel and unspoken concerns. She hesitated at the entrance of the bustling establishment. Since setting out from her father’s estate, nothing save reaching the city with the documents from France had seemed important. And yet, now that she had arrived safe and sound, she was strangely reluctant to acknowledge that the journey—and all that had taken place—was over and done with. Davenport gave her little time to stew about it, however. As usual, he took her arm none too gently and moved her away from blocking the doorway.
“Wait here,” he said gruffly. “I’ll see to arranging for you to be taken to—wherever you are going.” A scowl darkened his already stormy countenance. “And for once, try to stay out of trouble.”
Odious man, she fumed. As if she had meant to cause any of the problems that had befallen them.
He returned in a few minutes. “We’re in luck. There are a few hackneys returning to the city after discharging their passengers. One shall come by directly.” He stopped to clear his throat, and when he continued, his voice sounded strangely pinched. “I…that is, do you wish for me to accompany you to your destination?”
Caroline failed to meet his eyes. “I don’t think that’s necessary, sir. I believe we are well out of danger now.”
Only the tightening of his jaw betrayed any emotion on his part. “Very well,” he replied curtly. “I shall need to ask you for some of the blunt for my own ride.”
She removed a few coins and handed him the rest of the purse. “Where…where will you go?”
Davenport seemed to weigh his options as he stared at the bulging leather bag in his palm. Then, with a slight curl of his lips, he tucked it into his pocket.
“It’s of no matter to you,” he answered harshly. “You know where to deliver the rest. And don’t forget you owe me for the horse as well.” He sucked in his breath. “There’s no charge for the…intimacies.”
Caroline recoiled, feeling as if she had been slapped in the face.
The hackney arrived, and he turned on his heel and stalked off, not waiting to see her off. She climbed blindly into the musty interior, hoping no one had remarked on the odd sight of a lad with tears streaming down his face.
* * *
Davenport roundedthe corner of the inn and quickly slipped into another hackney after barking a set of terse orders at the driver. A crack of the driver’s whip set the vehicle in motion, throwing him back up against the worn squabs.
Pain shot through his ribs, but it was nothing compared to the mental lashing he was doling out to himself.
What in the name of Hades had possessed him to say such a monstrous thing?Caroline may have cut him to the quick with her obvious desire to have him well out of her life, but she hadn’t been deliberately cruel.
The earl raked a hand through his hair. He had meant to hurt her. And yet seeing her face twist in shock had only made him feel even more miserable. Rather than proving that he had regained mastery over his emotions, it mocked the fact that his vaunted self-control had somehow slipped away, leaving him raw, vulnerable.
He felt defenseless, and it frightened him more than he cared to admit.
