“Was anyone there?” Logan sounded bored and Hayden shot him a hard look.
“Not at the moment.” Hayden answered tersely. “But I went in. There were recent ashes in the fireplace and crumbs on the table. Someone had been there not long ago.”
“Any trespasser could have helped themselves to the cottage.” Logan argued. “Crumbs and ashes are hardly incriminating evidence."
“Alone, probably not.” Hayden agreed. “But then I looked in the cupboard. There were supplies, Logan. A trespasser would have moved on. Someone is using the cottage. There was a lantern, matches, kerosene for light. And,” Hayden drawled, “There were signs of bodies and footprints in the dirt floor.”
“Bodies?” Jenna asked and Hayden shifted in his seat. In his haste, he’d forgotten to be more delicate in his assessment.
Hayden pitched his voice low. “The cot seemed to have been used recently. I thought perhaps if the people who had come had been bound or tied in some way that would explain it. We don’t believe at this point the workers have left of their own accord.” He shot Logan a meaningful stare. He could give more details later but he didn’t want to alarm Jenna. He wanted to encourage her, to assure her he’d not given up.
“Was there anything else?” Logan asked carefully. “Scraps of fabric, clothing, anything that would suggest the workers had been taken that way?”
“No.”
“But now we have a place to watch.” Jenna offered hopefully but Logan was quick to disabuse her.
“Correction, Miss Priess. You have a place to watch.” Logan’s tone was sharp. “We are going to Keswick and racing. After that, we’ll be back to pack and say our farewells. Hayden’s job here is done. He’s gotten you leads. You can take it from here. All that remains is to mop it up.” Logan rose, offering no opportunity for Jenna to argue but Hayden saw the stricken look on her face and came to his feet, his hand strong on Logan’s shoulder, propelling Logan outside.
“What the hell was that?” Hayden growled as the door shut behind them, putting them safely into the cold out of earshot. “The last thing I want is Jenna trekking out there to check out the cottage. We have no idea how dangerous it might be, or who is watching it.” Just the thought of Jenna trying to take matters into her own hands put a ball of nerves in his stomach.
“I’d call it perfect timing. You should be thanking me. I’ve given you the ideal out for breaking things off with her.” Logan said. “You’ve helped her, and now we can move on. We’re moving on anyway as planned, may I remind you? When all this started, you said it wasn’t really a case, that you’d find her some leads and leave it alone. You promised, Hayden.”
“It must be a pain to live with a memory as good as yours.” Hayden glared. “Yes, I promised. I’ve kept that promise. I’ve been to Derwentwater with you to woo next year’s merchants. I’ve been out on the ice giving lessons to the local bucks every day. I’ve met with the Kendal businessmen and danced with their daughters. I am going to Keswick with you. I’ve done everything we’ve been contracted to do. Jenna has not interfered with our season in town.”
“Great.” Logan’s tone was dry. “The ice will be done next week and we can move on, all of our obligations satisfied. Like I said, perfect timing.”
This was the time to tell him, time to own up to the thought that had taken shape ever since he’d dined that first night at Jenna’s. Logan wouldn’t understand. Hayden braced himself and looked Logan in the eye. “I have satisfied all my promises. I owe you nothing more at this time, Logan. I was thinking of staying.” He’d been more than thinking about it. He’d been dreaming about it, fantasizing over it. “I’ll rejoin you, of course, next winter.”
If Logan was surprised, he didn’t show it. He smiled patiently and Hayden felt his fist ball. He wanted to wipe that look off his friend’s face. He would not tolerate Logan condescending to him. He decided to pre-empt Logan’s arguments. “You cannot possibly understand how I feel about her.” Silence fell between them except for the crunch of old snow underfoot as they headed towards the lake.
After a while, Logan gave a cool shrug. “That’s probably true. I can’t understand what you feel. Those feelings are yours alone. How will you feel in a few months? When the little crime ring is wrapped up and there is nothing more to fuel your adrenaline, your need for thrills, Hayden? Will you be happy tramping to the mill with her every day? Playing chess with her father? Listening to her brother recite Latin lessons?”
Logan let out a yawn. “I’m deuced bored just listening to that. I can’t imagine actually living it day after day. Truly, man, have you thought about what you’re going to do here? How long do you think you can keep sneaking her up the backstairs to your room before someone notices? Well, someone besides me.” Logan speared him with a hard look. “Then you’ll have to marry her. It would absolutely kill her father to know what you’ve been up to after you’ve spent the evenings playing chess with him. You couldn’t walk away.”
That hurt. Logan knew how to make a man feel guilty. “Maybe I will marry her.” He said it just to be contrary.
Unfortunately, nothing startled Logan. “Get a hold of yourself.” His voice was a low growl. “Those are bold words from a man who has hid quite a lot of himself from his prospective bride. She doesn’t know you, Hayden.” The implication went unsaid. If she did know him, who he’d been, what he’d done, she would be less keen on pursuing anything long term.
“Could you really give up all of this?” Logan clapped him on the shoulder, drawing his attention to the scenery; the usual crowd gathered at the shore, the bright sun turning the cold ice a beautiful white-blue in its refractory, a group of young men waiting for him, waiting to hang on his every word. Carrick was already out there, holding Guerre by the bridle. A group of girls giggled as he walked by. One of them whispered loudly, “I would swoon if he looked at me.” Normally, he would have looked and smiled over the commotion he could raise. Today he simply walked past.
That was what it came down to, wasn’t it? Give it all up or give up Jenna. The answer should have been easy. He’d known Jenna for a short time. She was just another woman in a long string of women. There would be more. There would be none like her. No other woman had called his bluff, made him accountable or made him want to be accountable. And yet, he couldn’t help but think that perhaps Logan was right. He was putting the cart before the horse. More than one horse in fact. He had not talked to Jenna about staying, let alone discussed giving their relationship any sort of defined status.
Hayden smiled at the assembled group, shook a hand or two before he swung up on Guerre, doing his damndest to push other thoughts aside. He couldn’t do anything about it right now. He would not have his answers if he didn’t ask. He would do it tonight, he promised himself in an attempt to tamp down the thoughts racing through his mind and focus on the lesson at hand. But one thought remained. Did he want those answers? Jenna didn’t know him, not all of him. If she did, she might prefer he move on with the ice.
Hayden was moving on. It shouldn’t have been so unsettling. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know. It had been implicit since the beginning, after all. It would happen, eventually. Jenna hadn’t realized how much hopeful stock she’d invested in that one word — eventually — until she’d heard Logan utter that statement. Everyone passed through Kendal, no one stayed. Except for her.
She’d sat at the table in the King’s Arms long after Logan and Hayden had disappeared outside. Part of her imagined Hayden taking a bruising swing at Logan’s jaw, part of her kept looking up every time someone came in, thinking Hayden would come striding back to her and sweep her up into his arms. But he’d not returned. Perhaps there was some fitting symbolism or forewarning in that. There would come a day when he’d walk out that door and never come back for good. This was not that day. She’d see him at dinner. It was that hope that got her feet marching back home as much as the fear: this might be the last one.
That pathetic mantra would not be di
smissed no matter how hard she tried. It stayed with her as she dressed for dinner — carefully, deliberately in a pretty gown of deep green taffeta with jet trim and tight bodice. If it was the last, she wanted to look her best. It was with her still as she oversaw the setting of the table and gave Cook last minute details for the meal and sent Andrews to the cellars for the better red wine. It was there during dinner, providing an underlying tension no matter how Daniel regaled them with accounts of the lessons on the lake, no matter how much her father smiled, his cheeks coloring with health.
He’d started to put on weight, his body filling out as the pallor of illness left him. There was no doubt he was on his way to recovery, his hazel eyes sharp and lively as they looked between she and Hayden, stopping to puzzle every so often. She wondered what he saw. Not too much, she hoped. Hayden could hurt her, disappoint her, but she would stand for him disappointing her father or Daniel. An angry little flame flickered inside. Surely, the handsome, congenial man who sat across from her, understood how much this ailing man and young boy looked to him? He wasn’t just a celebrity come to town to them. He had become their friend. They’d offered him friendship. What would he do with it? What could he do with it? He had to leave. He was always meant to leave.
Jenna pushed her peas about her plate, trying to make it look like she’d eaten something. Everyone at the table was so happy. Didn’t anyone realize…?
“I’m off to Keswick tomorrow,” Hayden was saying. “It will be our last race of the season. The ice will start melting fast very soon.”
“I wish I could go!” Daniel exclaimed excitedly. “I could be your groom. I could help with Guerre and with Carrick’s horse. Could I?”
Hayden shot her a warm look, an eyebrow raised just slightly in inquiry. He couldn’t really be thinking of taking Daniel, it would only tighten the bond that would be broken shortly. Jenna shook her head. “I think it would be best if you stayed here. You have exams for boarding school coming up in a month or so and you need to study.”
Daniel made a face. “I can always study.”
“We’ll do something when I get back.” Hayden promised to ease the disappointment. “I’ll just be gone a few days; it’s just the one race.” He tossed her a covertly quizzing glance that said he disapproved of her decision. Too bad. He wasn’t the one who would be picking up the pieces of Daniel’s crushed heart after he was gone. She’d protect her brother as best she could. She gave him a strong look in return. How dare he sit at her table, breaking hearts and make her out to be the villain.
“What will you do when the ice melts?” her father asked and all eyes shifted to Hayden. There was some consolation in watching him fidget with his wine glass. He wasn’t comfortable with the question either.”
“Normally, we go to London for the Season. It’s a great place to connect with sponsors.” Hayden took a swallow of wine.
“No hurry then?” Her father said. “The Season’s not really underway until May. Do you have family to visit? Is there anyone expecting you?”
“No.” Hayden’s answer was short and again that odd feeling of wonder struck her. What had happened to disenfranchise Hayden from a home and a family that he had once loved? The stories he’d told her of his childhood had indicated as much. “How about that chess game, sir? I cannot stay late tonight.”
Oh nicely played. He’d deftly maneuvered his way of out of further probing or even a further invitation. Jenna watched Hayden help her father up from the chair and into the other room. She would wager the mill her father would have encouraged Hayden to stay awhile longer, perhaps as their guest. But staying only made it worse. It didn’t change the fact that he had to go, at some point. A delay solved nothing.
She sat in a chair near the fire in the library, pretending to read while Hayden and her father conducted their game, Daniel hovering at their elbows. She’d not been able to talk with Hayden alone since the inn and the list of subjects to speak on was growing; the cottage, the missing workers, and now his leaving. So much to speak on and so little time remaining. To his credit, Hayden seemed to realize it too. He caught her eyes as her father took his second rook and declared check.
Checkmate followed and Hayden stood, making his farewells and promises to see them in a few days. Her chest tightened, watching him, his lock of hair falling in his face. She wanted to push it back for him, futile as the effort was. Was that it? It was such an anticlimactic farewell, but what could she expect in front of her family? Ridiculous tears threatened. How would she explain them? “Good luck in Keswick,” she managed as he turned to her.
“Miss Priess, thank you for another delightful evening.” He said formally to her, letting Andrews help him into his great coat. He adjusted his coat. “I shall look forward to seeing you again soon.” Did she imagine he raised his brow? Had she heard the emphasis on ‘soon’ correctly or had she imagined that too? She was looking for secret codes everywhere in her desperation.
Then he was gone, stepping out into the night and she could do nothing about it. Until she walked into the dining room and saw something dark on his chair. His gloves. She’d not imagined it. She would see him soon. He certainly couldn’t travel in this weather without his gloves. He would need them tonight as he packed. She picked them up and smiled for the first time since that afternoon.
Chapter Twenty-One
Would she come? Hayden stopped pacing to listen again for the sound of furtive, rushed footsteps in the hallway. He surveyed the room; the candles, the wine, the fire, the bed turned down invitingly, or at least as inviting as a rented room in a middle class inn could be. He wished he could give her something more; champagne, satin sheets strewn with careless rose petals.
He had the money for such finery but money could only buy what was available. Country villages and northern towns weren’t known for their abundance of luxury. It was one of the imposed frugalities of life on the road. It also ensured he couldn’t spend all of his earnings before the season was out. For the rest of it, there was Logan.
Tonight, he would have spent every cent of his winnings to lavish Jenna with proof of his… of his what? Love? Is that what this was? Had he fallen in love with Jenna Priess, or was he in the throes of strong infatuation, drawn to her because opposites attract? Drawn to her because she possessed a life, a family, he coveted? He wouldn’t know unless he stayed to find out. What sort of man could he be? Was he destined to be a nomadic roamer or could he be something more? Was he capable of putting down roots?
Hayden cocked his head. Footsteps approached… and passed, just another lodger going to his rooms. There were numerous reasons she wouldn’t come, starting with the simplest of them all: she didn’t find the gloves. Maybe he should have left them in a more obvious spot. Maybe she’d found them too late, maybe she couldn’t get away from the house. There were logistics aplenty to keep her from coming. Those logistics didn’t mean she didn’t return his affections.
There were complexities too, and unlike the logistics, they meant something. She’d been stunned and furious with Logan’s abrupt announcement that he would be leaving after the race in Keswick. It wasn’t that she hadn’t known but to hear it from Logan… well, suffice it say that wasn’t how the news should have been conveyed to her. That much had been plain in her face, along with the accusation. Coward, her face had said. She believed he had been avoiding the responsibility of telling her himself. Still, they were both aware this affaire was short term and neither of them had done anything to re-negotiate those terms. Until tonight. If she would let him. The list of what she might let him do was long and hopeful indeed; let him stay, let him take her to bed and convince her of his sincerity, let him tell her who he really was, what he really was.
Footsteps again, lighter, faster. They halted outside his door and he flung it open. Jenna stood there, breathless, the hood of her cloak flung up over her hair, her face, for warmth and for discretion, a pair of gloves in her hand. “I believe these are yours?”
Hayden’
s heart pounded. Jenna had come. He had his chance.
Jenna stepped inside, taking in the room and what it meant, the candles, the wine at the ready. She felt his hands at her shoulders, helping with the cloak. It was a gesture he’d made so many times before with her, familiar and comfortable and still seductive as hell. It was an audition, this removing of her cloak, a reminder that if he could take off an outer garment with such results, what could he do to the rest of her clothing?
“You were expecting me. You were sure I would come.”
Hayden set aside her cloak, his eyes glittering darkly. “I was hopeful you’d come.” They’d had this conversation before when their relationship was new. Perhaps it was fitting they were having it again as the relationship ended.
Hayden held the chair for her by the fire. “Come sit, have some wine.” She sat, sensing something was different about him. They’d been in this room before. They’d been alone before, and yet tonight there was an edge to him, a sharpness that was foreign to their other meetings. She watched him pour the wine, the firelight glinting off the cut facets of the goblets. The two best glasses the inn owned, she wagered. That was when she saw it: the faintest tremor in his hand. Good lord, Hayden was nervous. And that made her nervous too.
He put the glass in her hand and took the seat across from her. “We have to talk.” She was definitely nervous now. Those four words never boded well.
Jenna tried for a smile and some levity. She kept her words light. “That sounds serious.”
“It is, or rather, it could be.” Hayden leaned forward, hands on knees, his glass of wine forgotten. He let his eyes lock with hers. “I must apologize for Logan’s bluntness this afternoon. He is upset. I have informed him that I don’t want to go to London when we’re done here.”
Reckless Rakes - Hayden Islington Page 18
