Reckless Rakes: Hayden Islington
A good investigator understood that truth was best discovered in its raw form first hand. If one waited for others to bring ‘truth’ to them, it was seldom unadulterated. Hayden took to the stairs. At the top of the landing, he picked up the sound of quiet voices further down the hall. He recognized Jenna’s. The other was hoarse and sounded as if it required effort to talk in long sentences. Her father maybe? Hayden edged towards the partially open door in time to catch the sound of a wracking cough and Jenna’s swift reassurances. He could hear the rustle of skirts and bed linens; pillows being propped, the sound of water being poured into a glass, a sigh of relief.
“There, there, take a deep breath, that’s it.” Jenna’s voice was soothing, gentle, a different variation of the tones she’d used with him. “Drink some more water and try to sleep. You’ll be fine.”
She was moving towards the door. There was no point in pretending he hadn’t been eavesdropping, or in making a run for the stairs. In a few seconds she would step out and see him. Hayden crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall to wait.
She showed only moderate surprise when she stepped outside the room and saw him. The softness went out of her eyes and they became the hard green jewels he’d seen last night. “I thought you were told to wait downstairs.” Her tone was harsh, no gentle soothing tones for him. But perhaps she knew what he’d seen and was already on the defensive. Suddenly, what he’d seen at the mill mattered less than the context of it. He wouldn’t get any information from her if he argued with her.
Hayden gave a nod in the direction of the door. “Will he? Be fine?” Coughs in winter could be deadly things and from her own indications yesterday this one had already outstayed its welcome.
“Yes.” She said without equivocation, her eyes daring him to challenge her response. She stepped in front of him and began the trip back downstairs with brisk purpose. He understood the desire to lead him away from that room, but he could not assume the motivation. Was she leading him away from her father out of desire to protect him in his illness from unnecessary stress or to protect herself? Perhaps she didn’t want news of what he might have seen at the mill to trickle to her father.
Hayden filed that bit of information away. Whatever else she was, Jenna Priess was a protector not unlike a lioness or mother bear looking after their young. While that sounded noble in theory, Hayden knew very well that protecting often extended to lying or other extreme measures. Whether she meant to be or not, Jenna Priess was dangerous. The sway of those hips as they marched downstairs was potent temptation — he was obligated to consider she might move like that on purpose. Would she stoop to seducing him in exchange for his silence? It was an interesting prospect and a tantalizing proposition even when he was supposed to maintain professional objectivity.
In the sitting room, a tea tray waited for them and Jenna took a seat on the dark blue sofa to pour. She might have been posed for a portrait, so well matched was the blue and green plaid of her wool afternoon gown to the décor of the room, and the neatness with which her hair was pulled into a chignon at the nape of her neck. Her chestnut hair shined with a healthy, well-kept sheen and she presented the womanly ideal of domestic tranquility as she presided over tea. Unfortunately for her, an investigator saw those efforts rather differently.
Perhaps she’d dressed purposefully for this interview knowing precisely the visual effect she would have on him — a feminine effect that would soften her conversational opener and perhaps derail any cynical thoughts he might be entertaining. Her ploys might have worked too except for the fact that he’d already been betrayed by a woman and had a certain level of awareness if not immunity. Today had proven Logan was right. He was susceptible to pretty faces; a pretty face was one of life’s little joys, but perhaps this time he would be wiser sooner to what might lie behind one.
Jenna gestured to the decanters on the sideboard and Hayden felt the stirrings of a thorough arousal. “There is brandy if you’d like something stronger with your tea than sugar and cream.” What man didn’t dream of a woman who anticipated even the slightest of his needs? And here one sat, looking like a domestic angel if one discounted those eyes and that mouth. Her eyes were too alive, too assessing and that mouth was too sensual with its full lower lip as proven. No, angel wasn’t quite the word to describe Jenna Priess.
She finished assembling her tea and waited for him to be seated after a trip to the decanters before she took a sip and fixed him with a stare over her cup. “How was your visit with the foreman?” If she knew what he would see and how it would affect him, she pulled the question off beautifully without any tell-tale signs of feigned nonchalance.
Hayden matched his response to hers, tamping down the initial surge of anger that had fueled him on the way over. “I did not speak with him.”
She set her cup down on the table and gave him a hard stare. “Why ever not?” It was said as more of a challenge than a question, as if she thought he’d might not have been resourceful enough to manage an unannounced visit.
Hayden met her stare with one of his own, both of them having forgotten their tea. “It turns out you were not entirely forthcoming with me and I felt any conversation I might have with the foreman would not be as beneficial in light of that oversight.”
Her stare became a glare. The implication that she might be a liar had hit its target. “That’s a very convoluted sentence, Mr. Islington. What exactly are you dressing up with your fancy language?”
Hayden leveled the full force of his gaze at her. “I am saying that I believe I solved your mystery. Your worker wasn’t spirited away by nefarious-minded kidnappers. He merely slipped away in the night because he lacked any incentive to stay.” He paused, studying her face, watching her brow knit before he delivered his final blow. “In blunt terms, Miss Priess, the men and boys working for you are treated as slaves, not free workers. I saw a man beaten with a club, a boy whipped for what appeared to be the slightest of infractions.” He held up a hand to stall the protest emerging on those lips. “I’m not saying that doesn’t happen in other mills, but you’d led me to believe your working conditions were different.” Hayden spread his hands on his thighs. “If you’ve hired me under false pretenses of concern to do nothing more than drag an unwilling worker back to his post, I will not do it.”
Her face had paled and her hands clenched in her lap but her gaze was even as she said the words. “I have no idea what you are talking about. My father is known for his humane working conditions.”
“So you told me. Your father is an honest man, you said. That may be but your father wasn’t there today nor has he been for several months.” Hayden cocked an eyebrow. “It seems those standards have slipped somewhat in his absence.”
Her eyes narrowed at the indictment. “Are you suggesting I have condoned such a standard?” There was heat growing beneath the cool façade she’d expertly cultivated. He could feel her temper rising. He was getting to her, and that meant he was getting to a place where truth might discovered in unguarded moments; when temper overrode good sense, when someone might say too much.
“You are the one who oversees the mill by your own admission. What else am I supposed to assume?” He resented having to push the proverbial blade further in the wound. She did look thoroughly aghast at his accusation. The paleness of her face could not be feigned no matter how great the actress. He’d insulted not only her father but herself as well.
She took refuge in the only ground available. “I don’t believe you,” came the staunch reply. But that wasn’t quite true. He could see the glimmer of doubt in her eyes, the fear of betrayal in the way her gaze moved downward for the briefest of seconds. She couldn’t know it but that doubt was the saving of her, the validation that she had not lied to him to the best of her knowledge.
“Yes you do. You believe at least the possibility of it.” Hayden rose and held out a hand to her. “Come and see it with your own eyes.” In those moments, his anger found a new outlet. Heaven help the foreman if he’d been bastard enough to betray her trust. And, whispered his cynical conscience, heaven help Jenna Priess if she was playing a double game with him. It happened once before. Pretty face or not, he would be damned if it happened again. He would know shortly exactly what he was up against. Her reaction at the mill would confirm all.
Chapter Five
It had finally happened. She had failed in her vigilance. Jenna’s stomach was one giant knot of emotions, none of them good, all of them rotating around a bleak sense of failure. She had not been enough and now the man she’d hired to help her sat across from her in a carriage, accusing her with hard as sapphire eyes. Whatever was going on at the mill, he believed she condoned it.
She shouldn’t care what he thought. Her mind iterated all the reasons. First, he was a stranger. Second, she’d hired him. It was not his place to have an opinion about her methods. Third, he would be gone with the spring if not sooner, taking his opinions with him. Fourthly, he did not know her at all. He had no inkling of what she’d endured. He had no idea that she spent her days working with the church charity, or assisting with the never-ending needy at the workhouse, or running her own home, caring for her brother, nursing her father. All of this on top of visiting the mill two mornings a week. She was stretched thin.
And still, her efforts had not been enough. Had not been enough to protect her father’s good name, to protect his business interests, and, if Hayden Islington were to be believed, to protect his workers. By the time they reached the mill on the river, most of her feelings had transmuted into some form of anger; anger at herself, anger at the foreman, anger even at Hayden Islington for doubting her own credibility. Oh, there was plenty to go around.
At the mill, Hayden jumped down, boots crunching in the snow and set the steps for her. He reached a hand out to help her down. To his credit, he’d kept his accusations limited to his eyes. Whatever he was thinking, he’d remained silent giving her time to digest his revelations on the drive over. His hand stayed at her elbow, guiding her through the snow and over the icy patches. “There’s a good view through the high windows over here.” He helped her navigate a drift and positioned her at the vantage point.
The sound of the river and the turning water wheel made it impossible to hear but what she saw ate up the last vestiges of hope that perhaps Hayden was mistaken. The coarseness Davenport tried to hide from her was in full evidence here. His facial expressions and posture made it obvious he was yelling to excess at a young boy working the lathe used to hollow out the wood; his face in the boy’s face, his full grown body towering over the boy’s thin adolescent frame. An older man stepped forward, a restraining hand firmly but not violently closing over Davenport’s forearm only to be met with a blow to the shoulder from the club in Davenport’s other hand.
Jenna flinched at the impact of the blow and turned her head away in reflex. This was apparently commonplace. Hayden had seen it earlier today and now she had seen it too. Twice in one day. How dare Davenport abuse his authority when he knew what she expected, what her father expected. Her father had explicitly outlined his guidelines of conduct when Davenport had been hired. She and her father had relied on Davenport’s sense of honor to see those expectations carried out whether they were present or not.
Anger boiled over the betrayal. Her mind was made up. Even if such a violation had only happened once, her father would have Davenport removed from his position. She could do no less. Buoyed by her anger and by firm conviction that she must see justice done, Jenna whirled from the window and ran straight in to Hayden’s chest.
“Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry?” His gloved hands dug into her forearms as he steadied them both from the impact of collision. The sheer physicality of him made her acutely aware of his proximity. It was a potent reminder of how tall he was, how strong, how in her way.
“I’m going in there and relieving Davenport of his duties.” She made the mistake of trying to push past him. But he was a veritable fortress of masculinity that would not be moved. The harder she struggled, the harder he held on.
“Don’t be a fool Jenna, firing Davenport proves nothing, helps nothing.” He held her tight but those were fighting words. She kicked him in the shins. Didn’t he understand how important her father’s reputation was? How Davenport’s behavior undermined everything the Priess name stood for? How hard she’d worked to uphold it and her efforts still hadn’t been enough? Suddenly getting inside and confronting Davenport was the most important thing in the world.
Apparently, he was not above manhandling her when persuasion failed. Jenna let out a yelp of disbelief as she felt herself lifted off the ground and slung over one broad shoulder, an iron band of a hand imprisoning her failing legs. There would be no more shin kicking, or kicking of any other convenient body part. He didn’t put her down until they reached the carriage and even then it was done with little grace. He stuffed her into the carriage and climbed in behind her, slamming the door shut.
“I will not be treated like a child!” Jenna fumed, scrambling up on the seat and trying to arrange her tangled skirts all at once. Her dignity was in sore need of repair at the moment.
“Then don’t act like one.” Hayden growled. “I thought you were far more intelligent than that.”
The carriage began to move on its runners and she knew a moment’s frustration as she looked out the window. “We can’t leave! Davenport must be dealt with.”
Hayden shook his head, a booted foot angled against the door, against any further rash attempts on her part. “Not today, he doesn’t, and not by you.” His tone was firm, serious, so unlike the rather glib, devil-may-care man she’d met at the inn yesterday. How ironic that yesterday she’d been worried about that glibness impairing his ability to do a thorough job and today, when she had proof that he could take on a case, she wanted the glibness back. It was far easier to deal with.
“He is mistreating my workers.” Jenna argued.
“I am not insensitive to that and you know it.” Hayden reminded her. “But what does letting him go resolve? Does it keep your mill running? You’ve already seen how the loss of just a few workers can affect a mill. Where will you get a decent foreman if you’re desperate?”
The practicalities began to sink in. “I could hire a foreman from one of the other mills.” Jenna argued but there were no teeth to it. They both knew that was a feeble prospect at best.
“If you’re closed down, your workers are out their wages. Winter is a hard time to find work, an even harder time to find food to feed families. Who’s to care for them while you stand on your principles?” Hayden pressed his point. “It’s not ideal, but work is work and wages are wages.”
“Perhaps Davenport can be corrected.” Jenna argued.
“How could you enforce it this time when you couldn’t enforce it last time?” His voice was softening. He was taking pity on her, the very last thing she wanted. She didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her. “Short of going to the mill every day and overseeing him overseeing everyone else, I don’t see how you do it.” He made it sound absurd. “Besides, I don’t think it helps your cause to confront him. If he is willing to break one rule, what other rules has he broken? Rule breakers know other rule breakers. If there is something more insidious going on than workers simply sneaking off at night, he could be your best lead at the moment.”
Jenna could fill in the rest of that equation. If she tipped her hand and let Davenport know she was on to him, he would pull back and they would lose access to whatever he might know. Or worse, he might attempt to silence her. But surely that was her imagination running away. Davenport wouldn’t seek to hurt her or her family. That was a bit extreme.
“Alright.” she conceded with a sigh. “We’ll play it your way for now. But,” she let the caveat hang between them for a long moment. “If things get worse at the mill, I will not hesitate to reprimand him. Injustice should not go unpunished even when the greater good is at stake.”
Hayden gave a wry grin. “You are entitled to your ideas, just remember principles don’t pay bills.”
“You, sir, are a cynical font of wisdom.” But she couldn’t fight back a smile as she said it. He really was quite irresistible when he was being charming. Perhaps it was best to realize that upfront. It would make dealing with him easier, more predictable.
“I wasn’t aware you were paying me to be idealistic.” He was flirting with her now. Such behavior was second nature to a man like him. Jenna supposed there was no harm in it as long as she understood what he was doing, and she did. This was his way of forgiving her. He believed she hadn’t known. It felt surprisingly good to know she was acquitted. Apparently, whatever Hayden Islington thought of her did matter.
“I wasn’t paying you to kiss me either and that didn’t seem to stop you.” Perhaps she could flirt a little too as her way of saying she forgave him his accusations, just as long as she knew her limits.
He grinned and her stomach flipped at the sight. His smile was so full of life, so full of mischief. Jenna turned her attention out the window before the banter could degenerate into something more provocative. Forewarned was forearmed but that didn’t stop her mind from conjuring images of long kisses, or hard chests or well-muscled legs. It was far safer to focus on his opinions and cynicism. They turned a corner and she furrowed her brow. “Where are we going?” Wherever it was, it wasn’t back to her house.
“The stables. I have to see to my horse and we need to talk.”
Jenna sat back, relaxing into the squabs with a nod. This was good. Stables were safe places — hardly the most flirtatious of venues with their horsey smells and straw everywhere, not to mention the ever present horse manure. He’d be busy doing something else besides looking at her. And the reference that they needed to talk implied he had a plan about how to proceed. Next steps were good. She could feel as if they were making progress. After what she’d seen today, there was more urgency than ever.
Her spirits were lifting as they pulled into the stable yard. Hayden helped her down and kept a hand at her back as they navigated the stable yard with its slush and mud. Inside, the stable was warm, the expected smell of straw and horses cozy and inviting. Or was it the continued presence of his touch that made it seem that way? His hand had not left her since they’d arrived and while her mind flashed warnings that this was leading to something other than business, her body enjoyed the attention.
They stopped before a stall halfway down the long aisle and a big bay came to the door, pushing his long face into Hayden’s chest. This was met with a chuckle and some momentary pocket fishing before Hayden produced a slice of apple from his greatcoat. “The big beast knows I always have a treat for him.” Hayden stroked the horse’s face. “This is Guerre, my horse. We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?” He gave a few exaggerated nods of his head and Guerre copied him, shaking his great face up and down until Hayden laughed and gave him another slice of apple. “You’re a good boy.”
Jenna couldn’t help but laugh too, to see this grown man playing with a horse. There was no doubt great affection between the two of them and it did something warm to her insides to see it. A man who loved an animal so much couldn’t be all bad. Then again, maybe that was what he wanted her to think. It was certainly working despite all the warnings she gave herself. She had to stick to the basics. He was here to do a job, and he had a well-known reputation for womanizing. He’d already made one play for her with that kiss last night and countless innuendos.
Jenna crossed her arms and leaned back against the stable wall. It was time to talk business and then leave. It was when they strayed from the business conversation that she got in trouble. She had to concentrate no matter what diversions he threw in her way. “Do you have a plan?”
“Absolutely.” Hayden was still focused on stroking Guerre.
She was going to have to drag it out of him. “Do you care to enlighten me?”
He flashed her a grin, his hand halting on Guerre’s nose. She had all of his attention now. His eyes traveled the length of her in a slow perusal that left her warm as he drawled the words, “I have a plan and it starts with seducing you.”
She raised an eyebrow in cool consideration. “And where does it end, may I ask?” He was going to have to do better than that if he thought to startle her.
He leaned against the stable door, making her conscious of just how little space there was between them, his eyes lingering ever so briefly on her mouth. His voice was low and private. She was going to have to re-think the whole premise that stables were safe places. “Wherever you want it to, princess. Haylofts, carriages, bedrooms. You decide.”
Her mouth went dry. He meant it. That was his plan. She gave voice to the one thought running through her mind. “Oh my lord, you’re serious.”
He gave a wicked grin. “I’m always serious about seduction.”
Chapter Six
“It’s the ideal solution for inserting me into your sphere of influence.” Hayden paced the short length of the stall door, make an effort not to smile. It was too much fun teasing her, just to get a reaction to his audacious statements. He never knew what he would get in return; a heated scold that made her eyes flash, or a cool, raised eyebrow and a taste of his own audacity thrown back in his face. If it starts with seduction, where does it end? It was a delicious comeback worthy of London’s finest courtesans.
“This way, if I’m viewed as your love interest I have a reason to follow you around and go to the mill. After today, it’s clear I cannot simply walk in and introduce myself as an investigator. I could if the foreman was our ally, but his behavior suggests otherwise. If I tell him I’m an investigator, I won’t get any information out of him.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Do you really think he’ll be more forthcoming with someone who professes feelings for me? Wouldn’t that person feel protective? Wouldn’t they want to defend me against any perceived harms?”
“Not necessarily if that person was moving on. I won’t be here long. I doubt he’d view me, a nomadic ice racer, as much of a threat.” Hayden gave her considering look. “Unless he fancies you for himself?”
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