Free The Hired Hero by Andrea Pickens Page B

did. How many times did it take to beat the will out of another person? He jaw clenched. And why would someone filled with life and humor and dreams allow it?
    The thought of how easy it would have been to cross the line make him nearly ill. Was he really not so very different from Charles after all? He had never been so utterly ashamed of himself. His hand fell to his side and he moved slowly around to slump into his chair. Running his hand through his hair, he turned to stare, unseeing, into the cold black coals of the unlit fireplace.
     “What would you have me do?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper. “I have a small sum...”
    Caroline cleared her throat. “Ahh...actually sir, you do not.” She took the leather purse she had removed from the earl’s desk earlier that morning out of the pocket of her jacket and laid it in front of him.
    For a brief moment, Davenport wondered if he was beginning to lose his sanity. He stared at it, speechless. Then he threw back his head and began to laugh.
    It was a pleasant sound, a rich mellifluous baritone that rang true to the ear. She also noticed that he really had the most expressive eyes. Just then they had softened, the color lightened by humor to a hue as airy as the sky. Minutes before, when he had been so angry, they had been as impervious as slate. There was a raw complexity too, but never the cold, calculated cruelty depicted by the painting in the next room.
    The sound of his laughter trailed off and his face took on an expression of bemused resignation. “Seeing as I am at my wit’s end, perhaps you have some idea as to how to proceed.” His glance traveled over her breeches and boots once more. “You seem to have no lack of imagination.”
    Caroline sat down abruptly. “As a matter of fact, I do have a proposal.”
     His mouth twitched at the corners. “I rather thought you might. Well, let’s have it.”
    She squared her shoulders. “You are obviously in dire need of funds. I am in dire need of reaching a certain destination without further delay. So I propose a partnership of sorts. If you will help me get there, I will pay you very well.”
    “And just where are you going?”
    Caroline hesitated for a moment. There was little sense on prevaricating on that point. “London.”
    “How much?”
    “A thousand pounds.”
    Davenport gave a bark of laughter. “Good lord, are you truly intent on making a monkey of me this morning? Or have you received another knock on the head, one that has caused you take leave of your senses?” He shook his head. “A thousand pounds, indeed.”
    “It is no joke, sir,” said Caroline indignantly. “I promise you, when we reach London you shall have it.”
     He merely chuckled. “Yes, I shall eat gooseberry tarts perched atop Parliament, too.”
    “You doubt my word?”
     He stopped laughing.
     “Do you?” she persisted. “No doubt you would not think of insulting a man’s honor by refusing to accept his word.”
     The earl’s brows came together thoughtfully. “Hmmm.” Once again his fingers began drumming on the desk as he mulled over her words. The fact of the matter was, he needed to pay a visit to his man of affairs in town at some point soon. And even though the odds were her offer was merely a desperate ploy, in the event that her family would be grateful—he could sorely use a thousand pounds. But there was something else as well, something oddly touching about her pluck....
    “Let me make sure I understand you,” he said very slowly. “You wish to hire me to escort you to London, for which service I will receive one thousand pounds?”
     “That is correct, my lord.”
    “Very well, we have a deal, Miss...”
    “My name is Caroline.”
     “Truly?”
     She nodded. “Yes, but other than that I shall not say.”
     His lips pursed but he did not argue. He merely leaned back in his chair and leveled her with a piercing gaze. “Now that my role is little more than a hired lackey,