Gravely, Hinckley nodded. “I agree. In hindsight, that’s impossible to explain as anything other than sabotage.”
Sabotage.After today, she had to accept that someone was…
Hard fingers gripped her elbow. “Perhaps, Miss Carmichael, we might return to the office. A cup of tea might be wise.”
Hinckley, Jeb, and many others, their faces creased with worry, nodded encouragingly.
“Good idea,” Hinckley said. To Sophy, he added, “You go and have a sit-down and a cuppa.” He glanced at the men. “We’ll find another clamp and take a closer look at the winch and get that hook properly stowed again.”
Sophy felt she should argue, but she was feeling rather strange. Aside from all else, she found herself leaning into Cynster’s strength, imparted through his hold on her arm. She was acutely aware of his grip, but wasn’t inclined to free herself, which was ludicrously unlike her.
A chair and a cup of tea did seem called for.
Cynster caught Hinckley’s eye. “You might want to start checking over the works every morning, to make sure no fresh accidents have been staged.” He glanced questioningly at her. “At least until this is sorted out.”
She nodded. “Yes. We should take what steps we can to keep everyone safe, until we learn who’s behind this and put a stop to it.”
Hinckley, Jeb, and all the men looked relieved and also determined.
A kernel of anger flared inside her. How dare whoever it was do this to her and her workers!
She clung to that burgeoning anger and used it to stiffen her spine. The men started to disperse, and with her head high, she allowed Cynster to steer her down the aisle and out of the shed.
Once she was in the yard, her thoughts claimed her, and before she fully registered what was happening, she found herself settled in her chair behind the desk in her office, with a concerned Harvey and Mildred serving her and Cynster tea and ginger biscuits.
He’d steered her through the office and to her seat, then set aside his hat and cane and claimed the visitor’s chair, and curiously, neither Harvey nor Mildred seemed moved to question his right to be there.
Sophy vaguely recalled a low-voiced conversation in the outer office. Tommy, one of the lads who acted as messengers for Hinckley, had been in the office when she and Cynster had reached it. Tommy had already imparted the shocking news, sending Harvey into a tizzy. Luckily, her secretary was tethered to reality by the infinitely stoic Mildred, the company’s bookkeeper.
Sophy sipped and felt revivifying warmth slide down her throat and start to thaw the lump of cold dread that had taken up residence inside her. Her nerves calmed further. She looked up and saw Harvey dithering in the doorway. Over his shoulder, she caught Mildred’s eye. “Thank you. That will be all.”
Harvey looked doubtful, but Mildred tugged, and he reluctantly retreated and shut the door.
Sophy took another sip, her gaze unfocused. She couldn’t let the situation just roll on. She had to think and decide what to do. She drew breath and stated, “Someone is attacking Carmichael Steelworks.”
“Indeed.”
She met Cynster’s caramel eyes; they no longer looked the least bit warm but as cool and hard as agate.
“The question,” he went on in an even, anchoring, authoritative voice, “is why.” He raised his cup and sipped, but his attention remained locked on her.
She grimaced and focused on her cup. “I really have no idea.”
In silence, she sipped until she’d imbibed enough tea. By that time, he’d drained his cup and replaced cup and saucer on the tray. She set down her own, buzzed for Harvey, and straightened in her chair. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Cynster. We—all of us at Carmichael Steelworks—are in your debt. I can’t imagine”—I don’t want to imagine—“what might have occurred had you not been present and acted so swiftly. However”—she stressed the word—“I must get on.” She rose, bringing him to his feet. “As I informed you earlier, I will not be pursuing your offer to buy the works.”
The door opened, and Harvey came in, and she waved him to the tray. Returning her gaze to Cynster, she held out her hand. “Again, thank you for your help today. I hope you enjoy your stay in Sheffield.”
His gaze locked on her face, he made no move to take her hand. Ignoring Harvey, he calmly stated, “You haven’t been listening. I still want to buy the business, and I haven’t lost hope of changing your mind. However, I want to buy a going concern, not one struggling to hire men because the rumor mill—which I’m sure operates in Sheffield as well as it does in other towns—paints Carmichael Steelworks as jinxed. That would be bad enough, but given my interests, the last thing I would want to see is this steelworks, with its sterling reputation for alloys, losing that reputation because of an incident such as occurred earlier today that you and your men fail to catch.”
He hadn’t altered his tone throughout that speech, but the unrelenting power behind his words made her—and Harvey, too—blink and regard him with new eyes.
What the devil am I to do with him if he won’t go away?
Martin knew better than to glare or to approach a female of the likes of Sophia Carmichael with anything other than cold logic. Showing his frustration and irritation would get him nowhere; he had to convince her to let him help her deal with whatever danger threatened. He had multiple reasons for doing so. Not only did he want Carmichael Steelworks to continue thriving and developing, he also wanted—needed—to protect her.
He wasn’t interested in wasting time questioning that overriding instinct. Aside from any personal element, there was the undeniable fact that, in terms of completing his business empire, Carmichael Steelworks was better than perfect, and he’d already seen more than enough of how the business operated to grasp that she was an integral part of it.
Indeed, given his ultimate aims, she was a critical feature, one he would move heaven and earth to retain.
