by Aileen Fish
She moved closer and inspected the piece of furniture more thoroughly, reaching beneath the seat and running her hand across the wood. Immediately, her fingers connected with a book. In her haste, she turned over the chair. A journal—exactly like what her father had described to her—had been purposely fastened to the bottom with ropes. Grinning, she maneuvered the booklet out of the bindings and rose to her feet. She carefully set the chair upright before hurrying to the window where there was more light.
Nicole held up the journal and opened it. After flipping through a few pages, she saw the important ledger, which was the proof she needed. Several whiskey-ring distillers, chiefly in Chicago and Milwaukee, were listed on the pages as was the purchases for each sale. In her hands, she held the very evidence the Secret Service needed to have General Babcock arrested.
At long last, relief was only days away. She and her brother had been working long and hard on this case, and they’d traveled from St. Louis to Milwaukee, trying to track down the journal, but it had always seemed to pass from one hand to another. Everyone involved tried to keep the journal a secret. She and her brother had followed their leads, and that is what brought them here. It was Nicole who figured he’d keep this book in the study where only he resided in the evening as not to make his wife suspicious. In her gut, she knew Babcock would keep the book away from his wife and in his study. Nicole was relieved that her instincts were correct once again.
She ran her thumbs over the old, brown edges of the journal. Now it was in her capable hands. Men would kill for this evidence. Already people had died trying to find it. Some public officials were defrauding the federal government of taxes from the liquor sales. Naturally, they wouldn’t want this book to be discovered.
Footsteps in the corridor clipped on the wooden floor in a hurried pace. Gasping, she swung toward the door, knowing that she had to hide quickly. A wardrobe was nearby. She rushed to it, opened the doors and tried to fit inside. As she squeezed in, shelves and hooks jabbed at her head and back. Squishing herself any closer was impossible, but she’d try, nonetheless. Just as she pulled the door mostly shut, General Babcock strolled into his study.
Thankfully, she was able to spy on him through the open slit. He took two steps inside the study and stopped. He swung his attention toward the window. His gaze narrowed. Silently, she scolded herself for not closing the window curtains before hiding.
The man grumbled aloud and marched to the window. She tilted her head to follow his actions, but a hook caught in her hair and yanked it. Gritting her teeth, she tugged on the strand to free it.
As the general pulled the windowpanes closed, he paused and stared at something down below. “You! Down there,” he barked. “What are you doing?”
Nicole’s heart sank. Had someone been outside this whole time and had seen her through the window? Oh, she hoped not.
“Are you lost, man?” the general demanded loudly.
“I’m not lost, sir. I’m actually waiting for my friend,” the other man’s voice called from outside.
Groaning, she squeezed her eyes closed. Why hadn’t she detected someone down there? Fervently she prayed that this man had not seen her in a room where she didn’t belong.
“Come inside,” the general said. “I cannot have you standing so near to my wife’s precious rose bushes.” Babcock flipped his hand. “Move away now.”
“Yes, sir.”
She opened her eyes again just as the general closed the windows and pulled the curtains together. He turned and walked toward his desk. She held her breath, clutching her fingers tighter around the book. Please don’t look for the journal!
He shuffled through the papers littered on the top of the desk. Huffing his breath, he moved to the side drawers, pulling them out one at a time.
“Ah, there it is.” He reached into a drawer and withdrew a canary-yellow mask. Thankfully, it matched well with his bright, obnoxious costume. Chuckling, he placed it over his eyes and tied it behind his head. He glanced in the mirror hanging on the wall, making certain everything was in order.
As he left the room, Nicole blew out a nervous sigh. Slowly, she crept out of the wardrobe and glanced at the book still in her hand. She slid the journal in the secret pocket she’d sewn in her gown last night for this very occasion. The wide skirts of the gown helped to hide the bulk of the object. Now all she needed to do was to sneak back downstairs and go outside to her brother who waited, without anyone becoming suspicious of her actions.
With her hand on the door handle, she cracked the door open and peeked up and down the hallway. No one else lurked in the passageway. Satisfied she was alone, she casually walked out, and as she headed down the hall, she linked her hands together behind her back as she pretended to study each picture hanging on the wall.
She made it to the grand stairs without a cry of alarm. Slowly, she glided down the carpeted steps. She scanned the crowd gathering in the ballroom. More people had arrived while she’d been in the general’s study, but she didn’t recognize anyone…except of course for her aunt, uncle, and cousin, Emily. The family who took better care of her than her own father, in fact.
The three stood near the potted plants on the far side, chatting with other guests who all wore masks. Nicole visited her relatives often, but she still didn’t know all of their friends and associates—unless she was investigating them for one reason or another.
Nearing the bottom of the stairs, she still worried that the man who’d been outside the window had seen her. She’d worn her mask and doubted he’d recognize her. She should be able to get the journal outside to her brother and then return to the party without raising anyone’s suspicions.
From the corner of her eyes, something caught her attention. A man watched her as he stood near the wall by the stairs. Had he been there a moment ago? If so, why hadn’t she noticed him? Once her gaze latched onto his, he moved closer to the railing. His interest in her was obvious by his growing smile. Why was he looking at her in such a way? Cautiously, she reached up and patted her hair, and then slid her hand down to make sure her mask was in place once again. He couldn’t possibly recognize her.
He was tall with raven hair; his mask matched the color of his hair perfectly. A dark blue frock coat with gold tassels molded to his broad shoulders, and medals lined his chest perfectly. A gold sash draped from his left shoulder across his wide chest, coming together at his right hip. His costume was made for a prince.
She didn’t know if she’d ever met him before, and with his black mask hiding the top half of his face, he didn’t look familiar in the least. But he watched her descend the stairs in such a charming way that it made her insides flip. Right now, she couldn’t tell if her stomach acted this way because of his smile or because she worried that he’d somehow seen her come out of the general’s study. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.
Not paying attention to where her feet went, she reached the bottom, and the heel of her shoe caught on the edge of the step. She stumbled, and gasped. On instinct, she grabbed the railing with one hand and held tighter to the journal hiding in her pocket with the other.
The handsome stranger jumped to action. His long arms caught her around the waist before she sprawled on the floor in a mess of silks and satins. She stared into his eyes, and breathed in his musky scent. Good Heavens, he smelled enticing. For the first time in a long time, she was tempted to press her nose against a man’s clothes and inhale.
“Oh, dear,” she breathed deeply. “Thank you for catching me. I cannot believe how clumsy I am tonight.” She glanced at his chest again, decorated like royalty. “I suppose I should be grateful that a prince chose to rescue me.”
One corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other. “It was my privilege to have caught such a lovely woman.”
As she stepped away, her shoe slipped off her foot. She turned to retrieve it, but he crouched down and took it before she could. Picking it up, he lifted his gaze to hers.
“Will you allow
me the honors…Cinderella?”
Her heart leapt, and she wished the twittering in her belly would cease as well. Lightly, she chuckled. “You think I’m Cinderella?”
He shrugged. “You did lose a shoe, did you not?”
Smiling fully, she nodded. “Since you appear to be a prince—and a most charming one at that—then I shall allow you the honors.”
She stuck her foot out beneath her gown only far enough for him to slip on her shoe. His fingers grazed across her ankle longer than should have been allowed. Heat spread through her limb from his touch. The man certainly knew what he was doing. The meaningful gleam in his eyes let her know he was aware of what his touch did to her.
Slowly, he rose to full height, keeping his gaze on her the whole time. He mocked a bow. “Is there anything else Cinderella needs me to do for her?” He motioned his hand toward the ballroom. “Perhaps escort her for a dance?”
Nicole’s acceptance was on the tip of her tongue, but the feel of the leather-bound journal outlined in her hidden pocket reminded her that she couldn’t enjoy his company until she delivered the book to her brother. “As much as the offer tempts me, I need to find someone. However, I will return shortly. If you will excuse me…” She moved past him, but kept looking in his direction.
Nodding, he grinned wider. “Until later then, Cinderella.”
Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide as she made her way to the front door. That man was certainly doing a great job of charming her, and she’d better not let him become a distraction—well, until after she delivered the journal, of course.
For several months she’d yearned for a moment to just be herself. She wanted to laugh and enjoy life. She wanted to meet new and interesting people—and not because she was investigating them, either. She and her brother had been helping their father with the whiskey-ring fraud case, and now that it was almost over, she deserved time off. She sorely needed to relax and do whatever she wanted, if only for a little while.
Weaving between people coming in the door, Nicole made her way outside. Trying not to appear in a hurry, she walked toward the side of the house where the guests’ buggies and horses were kept.
It didn’t take long to spot her brother. Of course, Gordon was the only driver standing in the seat and looking her way. Medium built with sandy brown hair, he appeared much younger than the other drivers. When he noticed her, he jumped down from their relative’s coach and acted as if he was tending to the horses.
As she neared him, her steps became slower. “I have it,” she whispered as she walked past him and to the vehicle.
“May I help you, Miss?” Gordon asked in a louder voice, staying in his role as the driver.
“I think I dropped my wrist fan.” She opened the door and peered inside.
He stopped behind her. “Nobody is watching,” he whispered.
Quickly, she took out the journal and slipped it under one of the blankets. Before pulling out of the vehicle, she withdrew her fan. “Oh, I found it,” she said loudly, just in case someone happened to overhear.
He grinned and nodded. “Father will be very pleased that we have the journal.” His voice was very low.
“I know.” She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat, speaking louder, “I must go back to the party now.”
Feeling very victorious, she walked away from her brother. It wasn’t until now that she realized the wind was stronger than it had been earlier, and a lock of her hair came loose from her hairstyle and fell across her forehead. She grumbled aloud and hurried her step. She reached the house, and released the heavy sigh she’d been holding. The journal was in her brother’s care, and he’d protect it until it was delivered to President Grant.
As she walked inside the ballroom, she was surprised to see how many more people had arrived since she’d gone outside. On tiptoes, she searched the crowd for her relatives until she found them. Smiling, she zigzagged in between couples on her way toward her family.
Her uncle, Mr. Michael Thornock, was a prominent fellow in Staten Island, and well-liked by his friends and acquaintances. He wasn’t a tall man, but he still towered over his wife and daughter. For as long as Nicole had known him, he’d always worn a cheerful smile.
Aunt Anita—the bubbly woman in the family who cared for everyone—was the sister to Nicole’s father, and knew about Conrad being a Secret Agent. Ever since Nicole’s mother died, Aunt Anita had always treated Nicole like one of her own children. It helped that Nicole looked enough like the Thornocks to be considered one of them.
Cousin Emily was only two years younger than Nicole. But because she had matured at an early age and had been treated differently, Emily sometimes seemed much too innocent and naïve than a young woman of twenty-and-one should be.
Emily’s gaze locked with Nicole’s, and the girl’s eyes widened. She excused herself from her parents and met Nicole only a few steps away. Emily grasped her cousin’s hands.
“Where were you?” Emily asked softly.
Nicole didn’t like her cousin’s expression. “Why? What happened while I was visiting the powder room?”
“It’s not what happened while you were there, but afterwards.”
Nicole arched an eyebrow. “What happened?”
“That man, the one who captured you by the steps as you fell—” Emily swung her gaze around the ballroom, “was asking about you, and he looked very concerned.”
Panic consumed Nicole. She didn’t enjoy this feeling, only because she’d been in control of her own life for a few years now. Panic was not a pleasant feeling to have. “What do you mean he was asking about me? He doesn’t even know me.”
“Well, you see,” Emily twirled her fingers in one of her long, blonde, ringlets, “Father saw you nearly fall off the steps, so after you left, he went over to the man and struck up a conversation to find out what happened.”
Nicole didn’t like where this was heading. “What did Uncle Michael say?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t standing by them. But once you left the ballroom, that man kept watching for your return.” Emily squeezed her cousin’s hands before a wide grin spread across her face. “I think he might be sweet on you.”
Breathing in deeply, Nicole tried to relax. Her cousin’s panic was all for show, apparently and certainly unfounded. “If he’s sweet on me, then I’m sure he’ll come find me soon enough.”
Emily’s gaze wandered over Nicole’s shoulder, and the younger woman’s blue eyes suddenly widened. “From your lips to God’s ears. There he is, and I think he’s going to come over.”
Nicole tried to calm her excitement. But truth be told, she hadn’t had a man pay her any mind since Mr. Hugh Greenly had courted her for those two whole weeks, a little over three months ago. Although it was one of the worst experiences of her life, at least she was able to get a man’s attention.
Now that the whiskey-ring fraud case was within days—or weeks—of being over, she would really like to enjoy a man’s attention. After all, she wasn’t getting any younger. If she waited too much longer for the perfect man, she might become an old maid.
She couldn’t let that happen!
So tonight, she’d live in a fairytale for as long as she could, playing the part of Cinderella, and trying her best to make the handsome stranger become her very own Prince Charming.
Chapter 2
Ashton Lee watched the very lovely woman he’d helped earlier on the steps walk back into the ballroom. He wasn’t certain exactly what was different about her, but she looked even lovelier now than she had before she’d left the room. Perhaps it was her pink cheeks, or the satisfied smile she wore when she had returned to the ballroom. Seeing her this way stirred his interest up another notch.
To think, he almost didn’t attend the Babcock’s masked ball tonight. If Ashton had stayed home, he would have missed feeling so surprised—and amused—by the lovely Cinderella. Thankfully, he’d allowed his friends Glynn Nickerson and Steve Larson to convince him into coming.
Ashton needed to remember to thank them later.
It was still too soon to know if the mysterious woman was General Babcock’s mistress, or if she had been sneaking around in the general’s study without any lighting for some other purpose. Had she stolen something of value? Was that the reason she seemed in such a hurry to leave Ashton’s side by the wide staircase?
He’d dealt with enough deceitful women in the past five years to know when one had a secret. Cinderella most definitely was hiding something. For some odd reason, he would enjoy discovering what that secret was. Perhaps his eagerness to prove that women lied to him stemmed back to when his fiancée jilted him two days before their wedding. Nevertheless, he’d relish the hunt in finding this new woman’s mysteries.
She’d captured his curiosity, and the only way he could start figuring her out was to walk over and talk to her. Naturally, she wouldn’t confess to being the general’s mistress, and for certain she wouldn’t admit to being a thief, but getting to know her would be worth the trouble to see what this woman was trying to hide.
Once she’d reentered the ballroom, another woman had hurried to the beauty’s side. This other woman appeared much younger, mainly because of the girlish pink gown she wore and the way her blonde hair was styled…as if she had barely left the schoolroom. Cinderella’s gown wasn’t the rags the fairytale character wore, neither was it the ball gown created by a fairy godmother. Instead, the mysterious woman was adorned in an elegant pale blue gown with lavender skirt, trimmed with a white chiffon scarf that lined the bodice and the fallen-shoulders that came to tie at her slender back in streamers. Elbow-length white gloves gave a final touch to her ensemble. Pearl-drop earrings hung at her lobes, and a simple string of pearls circled her slender neck. For certain, this was no Cinderella, unless the fairytale character had suddenly become sensual.
He definitely needed to get to know this woman tonight.
