Reckless Rakes - Hayden Islington

by Bronwyn Scott

  “It’s complicated.” He lifted his arm from her and rolled to his side, getting out of bed. “It’s also getting late. I’ve got lessons on the lake in a half hour.” A most convenient exit, Jenna thought. Even the prospect of being in bed with a naked woman couldn’t make him answer that question. That was most telling indeed.

  Jenna sat up. “Will you be coming for dinner tonight?”

  Hayden hesitated, pulling on his riding breeches. “Would you like me to?”

  “Yes. Maybe after chess with my father, you and I can talk?” It was a carefully veiled request that he tell her he’d found something; a clue as to where the workers were taken, or some shred of evidence that pointed the finger at Davenport’s culpability. Anything.

  But Hayden merely nodded and finished dressing. He planted a kiss on her forehead as he left the room. “I’ll bring Daniel home with me.”

  Jenna lay back on the pillows and watched him go. Did he realize he’d used the word ‘home?’ Was he getting dragged into this domestic fantasy as deeply as she? The walks to the mill, the afternoons behind locked doors, the family dinners? She was in no hurry for them to end and yet she was acutely aware of time passing. February was slipping away and they were no closer to recovering, rescuing, her workers.

  Jenna’s fists balled in the sheets. Every time she thought about Paulie, about Thomas and William, she felt impotent. They’d been stolen away against their will and coerced to do who knew what. If Hayden’s hypothesis was right, she was sick to think of what they might be forced to. They were boys, no older than Daniel and she was powerless to protect them. Hayden had come up with no concrete leads to prove his hypotheses.

  She knew Hayden was looking. He wasn’t walking her to the mill daily for only the pleasure of it. She’d seen him talking to workers who’d grown comfortable with his presence. He was no longer a stranger to them. But apparently to no avail.

  If the futility of the search bothered Hayden he gave no sign of it, and perhaps it didn’t bother him, at least not enough to create a sense of panic. He would move on whether this case was resolved or not. He’d made it clear from the very start that he was in town only for the duration of the season. He owed his attentions to other obligations. She thought of the string of days they’d had lately full of bright, cold but sunny days. The ice had become the running sands in her own private hourglass and she had no idea how much sand was left.

  That bothered her very much. She knew only that the end was near and that meant things would be resolved one way or another.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Time was running out. Hayden swallowed to quell the unexpected rise of panic when he glanced down beneath Guerre’s feet where the ice glistened slick and wet. The lake was busy today thanks to the fine weather. Skaters were whirling a safe distance from him and the other four riders he and Carrick Pierce had brought out for today’s lesson. As usual, spectators were gathered on the shore to watch and he saw Daniel among them. Hayden gave the boy a wave and motioned that he should join them. He genuinely liked the boy. He would miss Daniel when he left. That would be yet another casualty of this winter in Kendal.

  Hayden cleared his throat and addressed the group as if he wasn’t worried about missing workers who had disappeared into thin air or melting ice — oh it wouldn’t melt today or tomorrow. He might be painting it a bit dramatic. He had some time, enough for the last race scheduled next week and maybe beyond that. But it was running out and much remained unsettled. “Today we are talking about waxes. This is a trick I learned from the Norwegians.” With a flourish, he opened a box that looked suspiciously like it must have been a woman’s traveling case in a former life to reveal tiers of colored wax blocks.

  “Daniel, select one for us to start with.” Hayden grinned at the boy to ease his awkwardness. Fourteen was a deuced difficult age full of clumsiness and the desire to fit in, to fit some place since one had outgrown children and was not yet an adult. Then again, one didn’t need to be fourteen to want that.

  Daniel selected a clear colored block and passed it to him. “Very good, this is Klister.” Hayden held it up for the group to see. “Let’s move our horses out towards the middle of the lake and I’ll show you how to use it.”

  The ice was better out here, cleaner. This ice was firm, solid. Hayden’s panic receded. There weren’t as many scrapes and scratches marring the surface. When everyone was gathered around him, he picked up the lesson. “The Norwegians use wax on their skis to help the wood slide over the snow’s surface better. They have a wax for different temperatures and different snow types. Klister is especially made for warm weather. I’ve adapted that idea, to put together my own borium based waxes. It’s a little too cold out for Klister today. I’d recommend trying this red one.” Red was the generic, go to wax, for a day above freezing. He’d much prefer to be using blue since that was for days when the temperature was below freezing. He lifted Guerre’s hoof and showed them how he applied the wax in sections, three or four dots at the most. Then he passed the block around. ‘When you’re done, get up and ride around, feel the difference in traction.”

  He cupped his hands to make Daniel a stirrup. “Get up on Guerre, you can take him about.” Daniel’s face beamed. But Hayden was sure to give himself a reason to stay close. Jenna wouldn’t thank him if Daniel fell off. They walked a ways from the group, out towards a stretch of unused ice, casually talking about the waxes until Hayden called a halt. “That’s far enough. We’re getting close to the canal and the rivers. Running water hardly ever freezes well.”

  “But look,” Daniel pointed out. “Someone has been out there.”

  Hayden squinted against the brightness of the sun and studied the ‘tracks’ such as they were. Ice didn’t leave tracks like snow. Unmistakable but faint, there were definite scoring marks on the ice. Hayden walked out and knelt beside them. They weren’t the scoring marks of skate blades. These were longer. They ran parallel and uninterrupted like the runners of a sled or perhaps a sledge. So many of the carriages in Kendal, Jenna’s included, had runners on them during the winter.

  Hayden’s eyes followed the marks to the far shore, his mind doing fast calculations. If it was a carriage, the driver was taking a significant risk, a carriage plus passengers plus the weight of horses was far different than a horse and rider on the ice.

  Hayden tapped the ice with his foot and then stamped on it with his heel. It offered adequate resistance only. The driver who’d come out here was foolish in the extreme to attempt anything in this patch of ice of what type of vehicle. It was far too close to the running water. The canal operators took great pains to keep the canal open all winter too, with horses hauling barges up and down to keep it circulating.

  There was nothing but woods on the other side. Hayden wondered what he would find if he followed the tracks. He couldn’t very well go with Daniel or with a lesson in progress. The restriction chafed at him as a supposition began to take the shape. Woods were good places for hiding, for obscuring. Perhaps those workers hadn’t disappeared into thin air, but on thin ice.

  “That ice is going to crack.” Allerton paced the length of the storage room in an agitated fashion. “We’ll have to find another way.” He pushed a hand through his hair and dared to say the rest. “I’ve been thinking, maybe we should be done altogether after this last run. We’ve been hitting it pretty hard lately.”

  He grimly eyed the other two present for their reactions. He wasn’t sure how they would take the suggestion. Harris Trenton was the one who called all the shots and Schuyler always took his lead from him. Trenton smiled patiently. “Are you getting scared? It’s perfectly natural.”

  “You’re damn right it is!” Allerton interrupted. He would not be patronized like school boy. “You don’t have Jenna Priess breathing down your neck every day and Islington talking to workers. Who knows what about, but those workers don’t talk to me.” He must be getting truly paranoid if he was imagining the ice racer was inciting rebellion. Still,
he didn’t like the idea of the man hanging around the mill.

  John Schuyler exchanged a look with Trenton. “She’s a looker. I can’t imagine it’s all that unpleasant to have her breathing down your neck.” he joked coarsely.

  Allerton wouldn’t tolerate the jokes, not today after yet another uncomfortable visit from Hayden Islington at the mill. “It’s no laughing matter. I tell you, she knows something. There’s a reason she’s taken to coming in every day at odd hours. Sometimes it’s in the morning, sometimes it’s the afternoon. It’s not planned any more like it used to be. I could count on Tuesday mornings. Just the other day, she came in and spread her account books on the desk.”

  “That’s your problem, boyo.” Trenton put in swiftly, pointing a thick finger at his chest. “It was your choice to embezzle funds. What’s going on there is your business alone. That has nothing to do with supplying a worker or two to the folks at Windermere.”

  “It will be your problem if she catches me.” Allerton huffed. But he’d pushed Trenton too far. Trenton’s eyes narrowed.

  “That would be most unfortunate for you should such a thing come to pass.” He said grimly. “Make sure it doesn’t.” He paused and picked up the old thread of conversation. “Now, about tonight’s run. There’s just two. They’ll be drugged so they shouldn’t give you much trouble. They’ll probably not even know a thing. Have the sled ready at nine and we’ll bring them to the usual spot.”

  Allerton let his rage collect and gather. How dare Trenton assume he could just carry on as if things hadn’t changed? The ice was weakening and Jenna Priess was on the verge of discovering his perfidy. His only hope was to withdraw from this scheme before it came crashing down. “You have to reconsider. Even if the ice holds, it’s still dangerous.” He hesitated, wanting all of their attention for this next piece of news. “Hayden Islington has been calling on Jenna Priess. He’s been coming with her to the mills and hanging around asking questions. Today, he said some things, asked some things that makes me think he’s seen the marks on the ice from the last run, which I might add, was a bare three days ago. Two runs in the same week is asking for trouble.”

  Schuyler smirked. “You’ll be seeing tizzie lizzies next, Davenport. You’re like an old woman worrying. Islington is the ice racer right? He’s here to entertain us over the winter. He races horses on ice, how smart can he be?” He chuckled at his own remark.

  “That will depend on if he discovers us or not.” Allerton argued. He thought the man was rather smarter than he let on. He’d shown an astute amount of interest in the workings of the mill and he’d grasped the complexities of the belt system.

  “Enough bickering.” Harris Trenton turned to Allerton. “How does it go with your other pursuits, Allerton? Have you made Miss Priess an offer? Planning a wedding keeps a woman too occupied to worry about factories.”

  “Were you not listening? Islington is calling on her.” Allerton blew out a breath. He’d chosen his moment as best he could with Islington out of town but now Islington was practically glued to her side. The two of them were inseparable.

  “I was listening. Were you thinking, boyo?” Trenton pushed off the crates he was leaning against and began to walk as he explained. “Islington won’t be staying, his kind never do. His work requires it. He’s got a race in Keswick in a few days, the last one of the season and he’s gone. Whatever he’s doing with Jenna Priess won’t last. But that assumes he’s actually courting her. Doesn’t it look a little bit too pat that she, of all people, has a suitor suddenly? He’s not exactly the sort I would have pictured her with. He keeps a fairly high profile and socially, she doesn’t.”

  “You think it’s a sham?” Allerton queried. “You didn’t see them dancing at the assembly. It looked pretty real from where I stood.”

  “The point is, he’ll be leaving whether it’s real or not and taking his burst of chivalry with him.” Trenton said confidently.

  “Can we at least put off the trip until he leaves for Keswick?” Allerton bargained. With luck, the ice would prove too soft and they’d have no choice but to let the runs end.

  Trenton seemed to consider the idea. He struck a match and lit a cigar, taking a long puff. “I think we could, but our connection is going to want one more boy. Do you think you could do that?”

  One more and it would all be over. “I don’t know who else… ” Allerton racked his brain, running through the list of employees.

  “I do.” Harris Trenton puffed out a stream of smoke. “Someone who could be ransomed in return for Jenna Priess’s silence or perhaps for the sale of her mill. I think there’s at least one person she would do anything for, even turn a blind eye and walk away.”

  Allerton let the idea sink in. The risk was enormous, but so was the pay off. It would solve all of his problems with the exception of winning Jenna. He would lose her most certainly but perhaps that was a small price to pay for all he would gain. And who was to say he would lose her if he played his cards right? Gratitude could be a powerful incentive. “Alright.” Allerton assented, his blood thrumming now that the end game was near.

  Jenna stepped inside the King’s Arms, spirits high. The day was gorgeous, the weather and streets clear enough for walking. At this rate, the runners could come off the carriage any day now. To be sure, it was still plenty cold out and the countryside would likely remain unchanged for a while yet, but the constant bustle of the town streets and the weather had conspired to thaw the roads even though it meant mud.

  She wasn’t supposed to meet Hayden this afternoon. She’d seen him just that morning at the mill, but she had letters to post and thought she might see what he was up to after she left her mail with the innkeeper. She had good news to share and she wanted to share it with him. She was nearly giddy with it in fact. So giddy, that she practically ran into Logan Graeme without realizing it.

  “Oh!” She gasped, coming up against the hard wall of his chest. A strong grip steadied her and she rubbed at her nose where it had made contact with his cravat pin. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She’d been too busy imagining how she would share her news with Hayden, how he would celebrate it with her.

  “It’s no problem.” Logan released her and gave her a long stare. “If you’re looking for Hayden, he’s not here.” His face was stoic, as always. She wondered if he ever showed expression. But she knew better. He did show expression. She’d seen extreme displeasure on his face that day in the stable and he’d shown plenty of expression when he was working with the businessmen, the people who paid their way. He was capable of at least some facsimile of emotion when he chose.

  “I thought he might be with you.” Logan continued, his tone slightly accusatory. “He has a lesson in twenty minutes on the lake. Carrick can start it for him of course, but it’s bad business to miss appointments.”

  Jenna smiled, what else could she do but be polite? “He’s not with me. Perhaps he’s at the stables?” She ran through the conversation she had with him this morning. “He didn’t mention any appointments besides the lesson this morning.”

  “Was he expecting you?”

  “No.” She gestured to the counter behind her. “I was dropping off some correspondence for the post.”

  He nodded and gave her a look she didn’t care for, a look of pity. “We have the race in Keswick soon. He’ll be leaving tomorrow for a few days.”

  “I’m aware of that.” She returned his stare and crossed her arms, her good mood beginning to fade. “What is it you want to say, Mr. Graeme?”

  “He won’t stay. You understand that, don’t you? The end is very near, Miss Priess. He’s not a man accustomed to being exclusive in his attentions.”

  Did he want her to argue with him? To say dramatic things like, ‘we’ll see about that?’ Instead Jenna said evenly, “I know. He will be missed.” She chose to ignore the other implication, that he had absented himself from the inn and his usual locales because he was with someone else. He couldn’t
be, not after that evening in her sitting room when he’d professed she could trust him. Not after he knew what had happened with Adam Grantham. He would not be deliberately so cruel. But doubt was so easily sown and her stomach twisted just a bit.

  “You will let him go?” Graeme asked coolly.

  “It’s not my choice to make.”

  Logan’s eyes shifted over her shoulder and she felt the cold draft of an open door before she heard the welcome voice. “Just the two people I wanted to see. I think I may have found something.”

  Jenna turned to see Hayden framed in the doorway, windblown as usual, face ruddy. He smiled for her and the knot in her stomach eased. He’d not been out carousing. He’d been out investigating. He’d nearly missed a lesson, for her. She couldn’t keep him forever, but he was hers now. She shot Logan Graeme a triumphant smile that flashed ‘I told you so.’

  Chapter Twenty

  If he hadn’t been so focused on his discovery, he might have worried more over about the steely look on Logan’s face and the triumphant one on Jenna’s. As it was, Hayden hustled them to a corner table, fairly bursting with excitement. “I may have found a staging station, a place where the workers might be being taken.”

  “Is that where you’ve been?” Logan raised a scolding eyebrow. “You have a lesson in a few minutes.”

  “Carrick can start it, I’ll be there shortly. This is important, Logan.” Hayden barely spared him a look, concentrating on Jenna’s face as he revealed his information. “I noticed some marks on the ice yesterday when I was out with Daniel. They were not where marks should have been, far too close to the canal water for my tastes. I went back today and followed them to the other shore and into the woods. From the shore, there were definite sled ruts as if the path into the woods had been used enough to make a regular road of sorts. It led straight to a ramshackle cottage.”