Chapter 9 #2
After all, the flash cove had promised a guinea for a description of any travelers who were passing through the area.
The man scratched at his stubbly chin. The tall, dark-haired fellow was easy enough to describe—he had gotten a good look at him throughout the evening.
The young groom was more of a problem. He hadn’t been able to see that one’s face at all or more than a hint of straw-colored hair from under the large cap.
But at least he could give a fair picture of the lad’s height and slight build.
That should be enough—the toff couldn’t expect him to paint a bloody portrait!
* * *
The cry was so soft that Davenport wasn’t sure whether he had simply dreamed it. The second one, louder and sharper, brought him fully alert. The noise was going to rouse one of the other lodgers if it kept up.
Slipping from his bed, he went to kneel beside Caroline.
Her covers were in disarray, exposing her night rail nearly to the waist. The top buttons had come undone, and Davenport couldn’t help noticing that she looked—well, even less like a groom than before.
Her hair was spilling loosely over her shoulders, and one hand was gripping the folded jacket beneath her head, as if she feared that someone might want to make away with the ratty garment.
“I’m not afraid, Luce,” she muttered. Her other hand was clenched in a fist, and the earl took it between his own fingers and tried to ease away the tension.
“It’s all right,” he said softly.
“No!” She sat bolt upright, her eyes betraying first fear, then confusion.
“It’s all right,” he repeated, taking gentle hold of her shoulders. “You were having a nightmare.”
“Oh! I’m…sorry,” stammered Caroline as she struggled to gain control of her ragged breathing.
He could feel that she was still trembling. Instead of returning to his own bed, he moved his hands gently to the back of her neck and began to massage the knotted muscles. “Take a deep breath,” he counseled.
All at once, the fight drained out of her and she slumped forward, her forehead coming to rest on his shoulder. Without thinking, he gently stroked a hand over the tangle of her curls. It was a few minutes before he spoke again.
“Better?”
Caroline suddenly stiffened and pulled away, drawing the thin blanket up to cover the front of her nightdress and looking away in embarrassment.
Davenport dropped his hands to his side but didn’t move.
“I…I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she whispered. “I won’t let it happen again.”
He ignored her words. “Would you like a glass of water?”
She shook her head. Her eyes were still averted.
“Miss,” he began.
She started and turned to him, as if to speak. But her eyes abruptly stopped at a spot somewhere below his chin, then widened in shock.
Puzzled, he followed her gaze down to his bare chest. He had retired clad only in his drawers—and usually, he did without those. “Come now, it isn’t as if you haven’t seen a man without his shirt on.”
She continued to stare.
“Ahhhem.” He reached for where he had dropped his shirt and tugged it on.
Caroline looked up quickly. “You needn’t concern yourself any longer, sir. I won’t bother you again.” She started to lie back down, but he stopped her.
“Make sure it has passed before you try to sleep again.”
She looked confused. “Why…”
“Do you have them often?”
“No,” replied Caroline. “At least, not until recently.”
He gave a whispery laugh. “I can’t imagine why.”
Her knees drew up under the meager bedcover, and her arms wrapped tightly around them. “Would that the rest of this were only a nightmare as well, and that I could simply wake and find myself free of it all,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“Mayhap that will be very soon,” he replied softly. To his surprise, he found he cared more than he wished to admit that his words would prove true.
* * *
So, the farmer hadn’t been too deeply in his cups to make an accurate observation, noted the gentleman.
He let the curtain of the carriage window fall closed and settled back against the soft leather.
The hat might have obscured the features and the jacket covered up the slender figure, but to an observant eye, nothing could hide the fact that the “groom” did not move quite like a lad.
No, there was little doubt. It had to be her.
But what was the chit up to? Who was the man with her? And did the fellow know what she was up to?
That would add complications…
Then, suddenly, the gentleman’s mouth curled upward as he recognized her traveling companion.
Ha—the duke’s daughter couldn’t have chosen a less likely protector!
It took little imagination to picture what the infamous Earl of Davenport was up to.
How he had managed to strike up an acquaintance with the young lady was a mystery, but his intentions most certainly were not.
He was known for his outrageous larks, especially when it came to seducing innocent young ladies.
This masquerade surely had one purpose—and one purpose only.
Well, that suited his own intentions quite nicely.
The dissolute nobleman would hardly interfere with his plans for the duke’s daughter.
No doubt he was already bored and, having ruined the chit, would be more than ready to move on to other entertainment.
As to the girl’s reputation, it was hardly of consequence.
She would not live long enough for it to matter.
The gentleman rapped softly on the trap and spoke briefly with his coachman. The fellow nodded, then pulled the scarf at his neck up to his ears and stepped down to make a show of tending to the pair of matched bays.
* * *
Davenport and Caroline took their saddled horses from the stableboy, who gave a whoop of delight at the coin tossed to him by the earl.
They mounted and rode out with hardly a glance at the carriage pulled off to the far side of the yard.
With only a slight hesitation, Davenport passed by a rutted cart path and continued on to the main road.
They rode in silence, letting the horses have their head, but the air of tension had eased, even though barely a handful of words had been exchanged since the night before.
When the earl reined his stallion to an easy trot, Caroline fell in beside him, content with the steady beat of the hooves as the only sound between them.
After a while, she ventured a question. “Where does this road lead?”
“It passes up through Salisbury, where we have a choice of routes to London. If we stayed on nothing but cart paths, we could spend days meandering through the countryside—and for what purpose? It’s more than likely we’ve already thrown off anyone seeking to follow us, so it seems in both our interests to head to Town by the quickest possible way. ”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I think you are right.”
“Good heavens, will wonders never cease?” he replied dryly, though a flash of humor sparked in his eyes.
She turned to regard him with a serious countenance. “You think me a harridan?”
“I’m not sure—” His words were interrupted by the clatter of wheels as a sleek, well-sprung carriage drawn by a pair of matched bays flew by them.
Caroline stiffened in the saddle. “That carriage—it was at the inn this morning, I’m sure of it.”
“No doubt it was. We’re not the only travelers on the road, you know,” reasoned Davenport. “There’s no need to become upset over every carriage that happens to pass us.”
“The occupant of that carriage didn’t spend the night at the inn—I neither saw nor heard anyone else moving about in any of the rooms,” countered Caroline. “So why would it be stopped there at that early hour? It doesn’t make sense.”
That gave the earl pause for thought.
As they rounded a bend, they saw that a short distance up the road, the carriage had pulled over and the coachman had dismounted to examine one of the front wheels.
Caroline drew in her breath, her hands gripping the reins until they were nearly white.
The earl took in her reaction, then reached around to remove something from his bag.
“Don’t make a fuss. Just continue on,” he said quietly as he slipped the pistol into the pocket of his coat. Seeing her eyes widen, he smiled grimly. “I’m not as complete a fool as you imagined. Naturally, I wouldn’t undertake a journey like this unarmed.”
Caroline bit her lip and did as he bade.
As they approached the vehicle at an easy walk, the coachman suddenly straightened and shoved his hands into the pockets of his caped driving coat.
“Trouble?” inquired Davenport politely. He had placed himself between Caroline and the carriage, effectively shielding her from the view of anyone inside the vehicle.
With a snakelike move, the coachman slid into the middle of the road, blocking their passage. At the same time, he drew a brace of pistols from his coat and signaled for them to halt.
“Be on yer way, if ye knows wots good for ye,” he growled at the earl. “Our business is with the lady.” His eyes, half in shadow from the brim of his hat, darted to Caroline. “Get off the horse and get in the carriage.”
Davenport made no move to continue on.
The coachman appeared momentarily disconcerted. “Go on, I tell ye,” he said, waving one of the pistols at the earl. “Stay out of this, or ye’ll be sorry. This don’t concern ye.”
“I fear you’re mistaken,” answered Davenport. “The lady is under my protection.”
The man gave a nasty laugh. “Oh, we’ve no doubt that ye’ve been sampling her pleasures all night, Lord Davenport. But I’m sure ye can find another willing female te warm yer sheets tonight. This one is ours, so be off.”
Caroline didn’t wait for the earl’s reply. She suddenly spurred her mount forward. The horse charged by the startled driver, but it took him only a moment to recover from the surprise.
A shot rang out.