To Love a Spy

by Aileen Fish

  “Miss Bastian,” Ashton’s voice called from behind her.

  She stopped and spun toward him. When he reached her, his breaths came fast as if he’d been running. “Yes, Mr. Lee?”

  “I just remembered…I don’t know where you live. Where shall I send your invitation for my dinner party?”

  She smiled. “That’s right. You don’t.” Of course, now she had to tell him her address. She didn’t know if that was a good idea or not. She didn’t want him spying on her or waiting by her house for her return one evening when she had to work later than normal. For certain, Ashton would become curious if that happened. “But I fear giving you my address before you have met my family isn’t a good idea, either.” She arched an eyebrow.

  He laughed aloud. “Oh, Miss Bastian. How you think of these things on the spur of the moment, I shall never know.”

  “Perhaps you should give me your address and tell me what night to come, instead.”

  “Won’t you need a chaperone?”

  She could have slapped herself for not thinking of that. “Um, yes. I shall have the housekeeper, Mrs. Phelps, accompany me.”

  “Is she the one who came with you today?”

  Her mind paused for a moment until she recalled telling him she had come with a chaperone this morning. “Yes, that’s her.”

  He frowned. “Come to think of it, I don’t like the idea of you bringing her. Unless, of course, you can convince her to run some errands just like you did today.”

  She hiccupped a laugh. “You are correct. Having her as my chaperone isn’t a very good idea at all.”

  Tapping his finger against his chin, he stared at her in silence. Out in the direct sunlight, the freckles on his nose were more prominent. She couldn’t help but smile. Indeed, he was certainly one handsome man.

  “I have it.” His eyes widened and sparked with excitement. “I shall have Larson and his wife pick you up.”

  Although it was a better idea, she still needed to give Ashton the address, and right now, she believed that wasn’t a smart move. However, she must give an address. “Yes, that will work.” Her mind scrambled to come up with an address, but it was blank. This didn’t happen to her very often, and lately, she’d noticed it only happened in Ashton’s presence.

  “So, what is your address?” he urged.

  Oh, Heavens! She couldn’t think straight. Her father would be very upset if she gave a robbery suspect their home address. But she had no other choice!

  “It’s twelve-forty-thr—”

  “There you are Miss Nicole.”

  Nicole jumped and spun toward the familiar voice. A plump, middle-aged woman waddled toward her, waving her hand. Relief swept over Nicole and she wanted to hug the other woman. Instead, she smiled and nodded.

  “Yes, Mrs. Phelps, I’m here.” Before the other Secret Agent could say another word, Nicole grabbed the woman’s elbow and pulled her closer. “Let me introduce you to Mr. Ashton Lee…he’s the old friend I was telling you about earlier.” She eyed the woman carefully, trying to communicate with her eyes, hoping Mrs. Phelps got the message.

  Her mouth hung open as she looked over Ashton, scanning him from the top of his head down to his shoes.

  “Oh, Miss Nicole. This is your old friend?” She shook her head. “He doesn’t look old to me.”

  Nicole laughed, and Ashton chuckled with her. “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Phelps. He’s not old in years. I’ve just known him for a long time.” She gave the other woman a wink. “Mr. Lee, this is my housekeeper—and chaperone—Mrs. Phelps.”

  Nicole said a silent prayer of thanks when the other woman didn’t even blink an eye, but reached her hand out to shake Ashton’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet Miss Nicole’s friend.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” Ashton grinned. “I was just talking to Miss Bastian about the dinner party I am planning for this upcoming week. The other two partners in the railroad will be in attendance. I was hoping Miss Bastian would like to attend, as well.”

  Mrs. Phelps’ head bobbed with a nod. “I’m sure she would love to. Do you need me to come with you?” She directed the question to Nicole.

  “No,” Nicole answered. “Mr. Lee will have his friends pick me up. In fact, I was just getting ready to give him our address.”

  Panic laced the other woman’s face, and Nicole knew she felt the same uncertainty. She waited for the other agent to speak, hoping the woman had a better suggestion.

  “You weren’t going to give him your residence, were you?” Mrs. Phelps asked.

  “Well, of course.”

  Mrs. Phelps tsked and frowned. “I see your father hasn’t informed you that he’s having the top floor remodeled this week. All of us will be staying at the St. Denis Hotel. In fact, as soon as we return home, I’ll check to see if the servants have packed our things.”

  Nicole could hug her friend right now. Thankfully, the other agent could think on her feet quicker than Nicole had been able to lately. “Is that this week? I thought Father told me it was next week.”

  “Yes, Miss Bastian. It’s this week.”

  “Not to worry,” Ashton held up his hand. “I shall send the invitation to the hotel and have Larson and his wife pick you up there.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Nicole said with a sigh. “I honestly cannot wait to meet your friends.”

  “And I’m sure they will be just as delighted to meet you.” Ashton turned his attention to the older woman. “Mrs. Phelps, it has been nice to meet you, but I should get back to work.”

  “I understand.” She grinned. “Miss Bastian and I shall be leaving now.”

  Nicole turned with Mrs. Phelps, but glanced over her shoulder at Ashton and waved. He didn’t appear as if he doubted their story, which was good. She didn’t know what to do if he couldn’t trust her. Trust was the key to getting him to open up about his dealings with the train robberies.

  Once she and Mrs. Phelps had walked far enough away, Nicole released a pent-up breath. “Oh, Angela, you don’t know how close I was to giving him my address.” She met the other agent’s gaze. “I didn’t know what else to say. I’m so grateful you came for me when you did.”

  The older woman gave her a victorious nod. “When I saw you across the street, your expression told me you were in a pickle.”

  “Well, I certainly appreciate it.” She squeezed Mrs. Phelps’ arm. “But…what will happen when Mr. Lee sends that invitation to the hotel?”

  “No need to worry.” Angela tucked in a stray brown hair that had fallen out of her bun. “I have a friend who works there. I shall have her set up a room for the Bastian family.”

  Nicole gasped. “You can do that?”

  The older woman lifted her chin stubbornly. “I can do anything. You seem to forget, I have friends everywhere.”

  “Yes, you do.” Nicole chuckled. “And for that, I’m truly grateful.”

  It constantly surprised Nicole how many contacts Mrs. Phelps really did have. In all these years of working with the older woman, Nicole should have realized by now that there was nothing the widow couldn’t do. For being middle-aged, Mrs. Phelps still had a lot of strength left in her body. She was slightly taller than Nicole, and a little on the plump side, but not overly so. Yet it didn’t seem to matter. That woman could out-race Nicole any day.

  They walked another block before Angela looked at her again. “So tell me, Nicole, did you find out anything about Mr. Lee during your visit this morning?”

  Inwardly, she groaned. She really hated this particular subject. “I think so.”

  “What?”

  “Did you know Mr. Lee’s father owned New York’s largest bank during the war?”

  The other woman stumbled before quickly righting herself. She stopped and faced Nicole. “No, I did not. What bank?”

  Nicole shrugged. “Mr. Lee never said the name, only that his father owned it.”

  “So I assume Mr. Lee was raised in a wealthy family.”

  “Yes, that’s the impres
sion I received, as well.”

  “Then what reason would he have to steal the government’s money being sent to rebuild the south?”

  Nicole sighed and placed her hand on Angela’s arm again. “Yes. That was my thought, too.”

  “Unless…” Angela tapped her finger on her arm.

  Nicole didn’t like the tone of her friend’s voice. She was certain Mrs. Phelps would come up with another reason to doubt Ashton. Nicole didn’t want to doubt any longer. She wanted to mark him off her suspect’s list. “Unless, what?”

  “Unless Mr. Lee’s father’s bank is in trouble somehow and that’s why he’s stealing the money.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes and snorted. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you? What bank in New York would be having problems? I haven’t heard of one yet. Since the war, New York has been prospering even greater than before.” She took a deep breath. “Besides that, his father died a few months ago. Because Ashton…um, Mr. Lee hasn’t taken over his father’s bank, I’m to assume that someone else is running it now.”

  “True.” Angela nodded. “But there must be a reason why Mr. Lee’s accounts are growing.”

  Nicole rubbed her pounding forehead. She’d forgotten about that small detail. “With any luck, I will be able to discover that when I attend his dinner party this week.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “One way or another, I will find out where he’s getting the money.”

  Chapter 9

  Ashton was thankful the journey to Staten Island didn’t take very long. He needed to keep his partners updated on what was happening…which wasn’t a lot, unfortunately. Still, he felt the need to talk with them. Not only that, but he needed to tell them why he was having a dinner party.

  When he strolled into the office, both Larson and Nickerson were sitting at their desks, their heads bent over paperwork. Neither of them looked too pleased. Ashton sincerely hoped something awful hadn’t happened. Again.

  “Good day, gentlemen,” Ashton called out, taking off his hat.

  Surprise registered on their faces, but it was only Glynn who smiled. “What are you doing here this fine day? Have you brought us good news?”

  Larson nodded. “Good news would be appreciated right about now.”

  Ashton sighed in defeat. “Actually, no. I don’t have anything to report about the train robberies.”

  “So why are you here?” Larson grumbled.

  Ashton wanted to roll his eyes. Out of the two men, Steve Larson had always been the one who acted as if he didn’t want Ashton as a partner. Glynn assured Ashton that Larson was always grumpy.

  “I’m holding a dinner party at my home in two days. I would like for both of you to come.” He switched his attention to Glynn. “And please invite one of your lady friends.” He moved it back to Steve whose expression hadn’t changed much. “And if I could ask a favor of you and your wife, I would like it very much if you would pick up a woman friend of mine who will be staying at the St. Denis.”

  Casually, Steve leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Why would we do that?”

  “Because I haven’t met her family yet, and so picking her up for my dinner party might be a little awkward.”

  Glynn snickered and scratched his ear. “You are courting a woman and haven’t met her family yet?”

  “I’m not courting her,” Ashton quickly answered.

  “All right…but it sounds like courting to me.” Glynn chuckled.

  Ashton gritted his teeth as he tightened his hold on his hat. He hadn’t felt this uncomfortable since he’d tried to explain a relationship that he had with a lady-love to his own father several years ago. “I’ll eventually court her, but I haven’t officially done that yet.”

  “And why not?” Larson snipped. “It’s obvious that you are infatuated with the filly.”

  “Yes, I am, but…” Holding his breath, he counted to ten. He hated feeling like he was trying to justify his actions in front of his father. True, these men were twice his age, but he was a grown man and he wished they’d treat him like one. “I have reservations about her right now, if you must know.”

  He moved to his desk and set his hat on the piece of furniture before he completely destroyed that particular hat. Breathing deeply, he quickly calmed his ire.

  “Lee, what’s going on?” Glynn asked, leaving his chair and coming toward Ashton. “Why has this woman rattled you so?”

  Ashton couldn’t understand why Glynn wasn’t married yet. He obviously had a caring side that most women loved. But the middle-aged man was satisfied in being a single bachelor. “It’s nothing.”

  “Of course it’s something, especially when you stated yourself you have reservations about her.” Glynn plopped on the chair next to Ashton’s desk and raked his fingers through his brown hair. “Come now. Tell me about her. Where did you meet her?”

  Chuckling, Ashton moved behind his desk and took his seat. “Do you recall the night of General Babcock’s masked ball?”

  “Of course.”

  “That’s where I met her. She was the woman I referred to as Cinderella.”

  The other man’s eyes widened and his mouth circled in an O. “What is she doing in New York?”

  “Long story.” Ashton shook his head as he tapped his fingers on the desktop. “But some of the things she’s said to me aren’t adding up. Her lifestyle, for one, and I get the impression that she doesn’t want me to meet her family, which is quite odd, especially for a woman.”

  “That’s very odd.” Steve’s voice boomed in the office as he stood. “Did she know who you were at the masked ball?”

  Ashton’s mind returned to that magical night as he tried to recall everything they had talked about. Then the memory hit him. “Yes. She did, in fact. It wasn’t until later in the evening, but she did call me by name before I could introduce myself to her.”

  Groaning, Glynn rubbed his forehead. “That’s not good at all.”

  “Why do you say that?” Ashton asked.

  “Because that means she has had her eye on you for a while now.”

  Ashton arched an eyebrow. “And what is wrong about that?”

  “You cannot be that dense,” Larson snapped as he walked closer. “She’s after your money. She knows about you, therefore she only wants you for your money.”

  “Or,” Glynn said, leaning forward and resting his linked fingers on the top of the desk, “she is part of the gang of robbers and is fishing for information that might help her for her next train robbery.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Nickerson.” Larson grunted and shook his head. “No woman is that smart.”

  “I beg to differ,” Glynn said. “I know a lot of intelligent ladies.”

  “Of course you do, which is why none of them have agreed to marry you.” Larson grinned, obviously humored at himself for his comment.

  “You think you’re so smart?” Glynn jumped to his feet and faced Larson.

  Ashton stopped listening to his partners’ senseless argument as his mind began working properly. Both men had been right—if only a little. Most women Ashton had met were not very intelligent, yet Nicole was. True, there were a few times she tried to act naïve, but he could tell it was all for show. And she had been asking a lot of questions about his life. Then there was the fact that he had caught her and her brother dressed as waifs on the train asking questions about the robberies.

  His gut twisted with uncertainty. Was it possible she had been playing him for a fool this whole time? Why not? Most women he’d met lied to him and deceived him any way they could. Yet, he’d thought Nicole was different. But the pain twisting like a knife in his heart told him she wasn’t.

  ~*~

  Nicole strolled with Mrs. Phelps along Stone Street as they did some shopping. It hadn’t been a whole day since Nicole had seen Ashton, and she had the uncontrollable urge to drop by his office again. This time she didn’t dare visit him while Angela was with her. It wasn’t that she was afraid to do some
thing wrong in front of Angela, but the older woman had always treated Nicole like a daughter, and she didn’t want that motherly advice she knew Mrs. Phelps liked to throw Nicole’s way every so often.

  She felt a little more settled with their plans for the dinner party since Angela had contacted her friend who worked at the hotel and set them up a room. Nicole and Mrs. Phelps would wait in the lobby when Ashton’s friends came to get her for their social. Everything would appear just as it should.

  Mrs. Phelps insisted on going into the milliner’s shop. Nicole loved to collect beautiful gowns, but Angela loved to collect hats. In Nicole’s opinion, women shouldn’t have to wear hats. She loved her hair and wanted it long and flowing over her shoulders instead of tucked away in a coil at the back of her head, or hiding underneath an awful hat. She thought Angela had pretty, brown hair and should show it off a little more, but the older woman wouldn’t think of such a thing.

  Just as they stepped toward the door, a middle-aged woman exited. She was busy tying the ribbons of her hat under her chin and didn’t see Angela until almost bumping into her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I—” The woman’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Phelps! What a pleasure to see you. How long has it been?”

  Angela grinned. “At least six months.” She clasped the other lady’s hand in a friendly greeting.

  The woman’s gaze moved to Nicole and stopped. “And who is this lovely creature?”

  “This is Miss Bastian. I work with her father.”

  Nicole tried not to look startled at Angela’s comment, only because she wasn’t sure what exactly the other woman knew about their profession.

  “Miss Bastian,” Angela said, looking at Nicole, “this is Miss Merriweather. I have known her for years.” She switched her gaze to the woman. “Margaret, this is Nicole Bastian.”

  “How very nice to meet you.” She patted Nicole’s hand.

  “And you, as well.” Nicole smiled.

  “Don’t you think Mrs. Phelps is a remarkable woman?” Mrs. Merriweather beamed. “I have never known a woman who could do what this one does.”

  “Oh, yes.” Nicole nodded, still not knowing how much to say. “She is stupendous.”