Page 62 of The Hired Hero
A bitter smile twitched at his lips. Well, he had learned to protect himself from other slings and arrows in life. Surely, he would learn to deal with this as well.
For if he admitted to himself that he cared for her, he would be utterly, utterly lost.
The horses slowed, and the ruts gave way to smooth cobblestones. Davenport glanced out the grimy window and saw they were approaching the fashionable area of Mayfair, with its well-lit streets and imposing dwellings. Up ahead was the dark shape of another lumbering vehicle. True to his orders, the driver had kept right on the tail of the hackney that was carrying Caroline.
The earl sank back in his seat, satisfied. In light of his recent behavior, she had every reason to think him a scoundrel, but he had made a promise, and he meant to keep it. He would see her safely to her destination, regardless of whether she wanted him to or not.
He would damn well earn every farthing of that thousand pounds.
* * *
Caroline boundedup the polished marble steps and let the knocker fall in a series of impatient raps. It seemed an age before the door cracked open and a pair of dark eyes peered out into the night.
“Be off, urchin.”
Caroline had forgotten about her rather disreputable disguise. She hastily shoved her worn boot into the gap to keep the door from being slammed in her face.
“Where is Jenkins?” she demanded. “And who the devil—oh, is it you, Mr. Farrington? Forgive my rather unorthodox appearance, but I shall explain everything shortly.”
Her father’s secretary fell back a step or two. “Lady Caroline?” he gasped, his hand flying up to his chest in surprise.
“Sorry to give you such a shock.” She stepped into the entrance hall and tore off her cap. “Where are all the servants? And where is Uncle Henry?” she asked as she removed the pins and shook out her hair.
“Why, they left for Roxbury Manor not an hour ago in response to an urgent letter from your father.”
Caroline heaved a harried sigh. “They will have a long journey for naught.”
Farrington’s eyes were still widened in amazement. They now slowly traveled up from her ragged breeches to her streaked face. “Are…are you all right?” he ventured.
She let out a sigh. “It is a long story, but yes.”
Now that she was finally here, within the solid walls of her own home, surrounded by the reassuring presence of familiar things, she felt an overwhelming weariness stealing over her. For an instant, her knees buckled slightly.
A hand steadied her shoulder, and the sound of Farrington’s voice, dripping with concern, oozed through the fogginess clouding her brain.
“Lady Caroline, let me help you to a chair.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t dare sit down, not yet. “If you would ring for a maid, I’ll go directly upstairs.” She envisioned a tub filled to the brim with steaming suds and a soft bed with clean sheets.
Farrington’s hand remained where it was. “Your father mentioned something else.” He cleared his throat. “Have you got…the papers?”
She hesitated for a moment, a frown clouding her face, then her expression lightened. “Yes, of course you would know about that. Well, never fear. I have them safe.” As she spoke, she patted at the breast of her jacket.
He lowered his voice as well, to a conspiratorial whisper. “I can only imagine what you have endured to reach London—your father naturally confided in me that there exists a traitor in our midst. Why don’t you let me relieve you of the burden? I shall see they are delivered into the right hands.”
Caroline shook her head. “How very kind of you, but I have carried them this far, and I shall keep them until I can turn them over to my father.”
His fingers unconsciously dug into her skin.
“Mr. Farrington, you may release me.” She tried to keep her tone light to avoid causing him any embarrassment. “I promise that my collapse is not imminent.”
All at once, he was shaking her. “Give them to me!”
Caroline tried to pull away. “Mr. Farrington!”
He kept hold of her jacket and nearly wrenched her off her feet. “You damn bitch. You’ve caused me more than enough trouble—but no more. Now give me those documents!”
“Ye gods, i-it’syou! You’re the traitor!” She stared at him in disbelief. “But why?”
