by Aileen Fish
Ashton fisted his hands as he gritted his teeth. True, things were not stacking in Nicole’s favor, but she couldn’t be the thief they and the police were looking for. Could she?
“I don’t know,” he muttered softly, raking his fingers through his hair. “There is really no proof, just a lot of circumstances.”
Glynn rested his hand on Ashton’s shoulder. “Don’t you see what she’s doing?” He continued to speak low. “She’s got a spell on you. This is what she does to men, I’m certain of it. I’ve never seen you so love-struck, and Larson and I think it’s because she’s purposely trying to charm you so you don’t suspect her.”
Bitterness coated Ashton’s tongue, and betrayal gnawed a hole in his heart. He squeezed his eyes closed. Although he didn’t want to believe, his friends did have a valid point. Ashton hated to feel weak, and that emotion washed over him in buckets right now.
He took a deep breath and looked back at his friends. “What do you suggest I do about it?”
“Just be more careful around her,” Glynn said.
Rolling his eyes, Ashton released a gush of irritated air between his teeth. “And what about tonight? Don’t you think she is going to become curious as to why I’m suddenly distant?”
“Don’t be distant.” Steve shook his head. “Don’t let her think you suspect her of anything.”
“And how, pray tell, am I supposed to do that after what you have just told me?”
“Pretend.” Glynn grinned. “Men do it all the time when they’re with women.”
Not often was Ashton privileged to see Steve Larson grin, but he did so now—and even chuckled a little at Nickerson’s comment.
Taking a deep breath, Ashton steeled himself for the performance of a lifetime, and turned back to Nicole. Worry etched the lines on her forehead and made her brown eyes dull. As he walked back to her, his heart tried to argue with his mind. Nicole couldn’t be the thief they were after. She was too innocent, naïve, and much too sweet. Unless, of course, that was all an act.
When he reached the sofa, she gave him a small smile. “Is everything all right?” she asked, her gaze bouncing between him and the other two men still standing in the corner of the room.
“Yes, of course.” Ashton tried to relax and smile, even though his insides were jumping with anger and distrust—and doubt. He motioned his head toward his partners. “We were just talking about the railroad. It’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.” He placed his hand on her arm. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Much better, thank you.” She moved her attention to Mrs. Browning who still sat on the cushioned chair next to the sofa. “I have just been getting acquainted with Mrs. Browning and Mrs. Larson.”
“Splendid.” Ashton tried smiling wider. His mind scrambled for what to say next, but no thoughts came to him. Of course, it didn’t help that confusion filled his head as unanswered questions swam inside, making him think of nothing but that. Was she really a thief—or at least in cohorts with the true thief? He honestly didn’t think she could pull off a train robbery all on her own. Yet, if her companion, Mrs. Phelps, was still in the stealing business, she’d make a great partner for Nicole.
“Miss Bastian,” Steve’s voice boomed in the room, “tell me about your family. You mentioned you lived here in New York, correct?”
Nicole’s focus moved to Larson and her brows creased for a moment as she studied him. Slowly, she nodded. “Uh, yes. I did tell Mr. Nickerson and Mrs. Browning in the carriage ride here that I have lived in New York for about six months. My uncle and aunt live in Staten Island, and I visit them on a regular basis.”
“I wonder if I know your family.” Steve scratched the small patch of hair on his chin that substituted for a beard.
“You might. Michael Thornock is my uncle, and his wife is Anita. They have one daughter, Emily. My uncle owns a small shipping line.”
“Hmm…” Steve nodded. “I think I have seen him a time or two.”
Her face relaxed. “Perhaps you have.”
“And who are your parents?” Glynn asked, standing back by the liquor tray as he poured himself a glass of brandy. “I don’t believe you have mentioned them.”
“Well, my mother died when I was young, and I doubt you know my father.” Nicole shrugged. “He doesn’t usually stay at one job for very long before moving to the next.”
Glynn sipped his drink before asking, “Well, tell me his name and I’ll tell you if I know him.”
Ashton studied Nicole’s face. By now, he could read her expressions pretty well, and right now, she looked panicked. At least panic was the underlining expression that she tried to hide with a smile. For certain, she did not want anyone knowing her father.
“My father’s name is François Bastian. His mother was French, although my father and his siblings were raised in America.”
Ashton took his focus off Nicole to glance between Glynn and Steve. Recognition had not struck their expressions.
“I suppose you’re right, Miss Bastian,” Glynn finally said. “I haven’t heard of him at all.”
Nicole’s shoulders relaxed, as did the tightness in her face. Even Ashton expelled a relived sigh. Well, at least for now he felt relieved. Perhaps his friends were wrong about her. He could only hope.
“I haven’t, either.” Steve shook his head.
When the room grew quiet for a moment, Mrs. Browning rose from her chair and cleared her throat. “Mr. Lee, what do you say if we all played a game of Whist?” She glanced at Nicole. “Does that not sound enjoyable?”
Although Ashton didn’t think playing a card game sounded enjoyable, he was willing to play if only to keep his mind occupied for a little while. “Yes, that does sound enjoyable. I’ll get the cards.”
“Mrs. Larson,” Mrs. Browning said, “help me set up the table.” She moved to the gaming table toward the window.
As Ashton collected the cards, he thought back to the beginning of the evening. His goal had been to sneak Nicole away from the group for a little privacy in hopes of stealing more kisses. Now his hope for the evening was to make it through without her suspecting his thoughts. He’d always believed a person innocent until proven guilty, but right now his breaking heart was telling him he’d allowed another woman to play him for a fool once again.
~*~
Nicole’s hopes of having Ashton escort her home were squashed when he’d kissed her on the hand and turned her over to Mr. Nickerson and Mrs. Browning. Even the carriage ride back to the hotel had been agonizing; not because of her escorts, but because she had stewed over Ashton’s mood. Something was off, and it had happened when he stepped away to speak privately with the other two railroad partners.
She couldn’t sleep at all that night, and even now in the bright morning, she couldn’t stop thinking over everything that had happened as she sat at the table, eating her breakfast of fruit and scones. The house seemed abnormally quiet this morning, but she wouldn’t worry about that. There were more important matters to ponder.
She hadn’t enjoyed the questions Ashton’s friends threw out about her family. The only way they would know her father was if they had worked with him, either with the police force, or as a Secret Agent. The same was true with her brother, Gordon. He was the master of disguise, and rarely let anyone get to know the real man.
She lied and told everyone at the gathering that her father’s name was Francois. Well, that wasn’t really a lie. His first name was Francois, but he’d always used his middle name, Conrad. She didn’t want to take the chance of anyone knowing him or hearing about him.
As she finished her morning tea, footsteps on the corridor floor resounded through the near empty house, bringing her out of her thoughts. Gordon walked in, his eyes still puffy with sleep. When his gaze met hers, he nodded.
“Good morning, dear sister.”
“Good morning to you. I’ve been waiting for you to awaken so we can discuss what happened last night.”
He collected
his plate and filled it with food from the side table before joining her. She patiently waited for him to sit, adjust the linen napkin on his lap, and take his first bite of bacon before he met her gaze.
“Ah yes, the dinner social you attended last night at Ashton Lee’s residence.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “Yes, of course. Was there another place you needed to be?”
He flipped his hand. “Not until afterwards.” He grinned.
She rolled her eyes, not wanting to hear again about another woman he’d secretly met up with. Gordon was such a womanizer. She feared he’d never settle down. “You were there, correct? And you were able to sneak through his study?”
“I was there.” He bit into his scone and munched as his gaze stuck to hers. After he swallowed, he nodded. “But I wasn’t able to get much done.”
“I don’t understand.” Irritation pumped through her. “I kept Mr. Lee’s party in the dining room for an hour, just as you had wanted. Why were you not able to get much done in an hour?”
Gordon huffed and leaned his forearms on the table, meeting her glare. “Ashton Lee has servants, were you aware of that?”
“Well, of course. What man of wealth doesn’t have servants?”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “I was able to get inside his study, but I was interrupted quite a few times when his servants walked by the room.”
“Oh, that’s utter nonsense,” she snapped. “All you had to do was close the door. That’s what I did when I was searching through General Babcock’s study.”
“I did close the door.” His voice rose in anger. “But one of the servants opened it up. That’s when I decided I’d better not close it again, or they would become suspicious.”
She fisted her hands and set them in her lap, not wanting her brother to see how much she wanted to wallop him. “So did you find anything at all?”
“Nothing. Mainly because the hallway was traveled a lot by his servants.” He blew out a frustrated breath and shook his head. “I’ll have to find another time to go back when I know the servants won’t be there.”
She released a sarcastic snort. “And when might that be, pray tell? I wasn’t aware that you knew the schedule of Ashton’s servants.”
Gordon’s eyes studied her for a few moments while he shoved the scone into his mouth and chomped. He finally tilted his head to the side, and raised his eyebrows.
“Ashton? When have you started calling him by his first name, dear sister? And why did your voice soften when you said his name?”
The irritation shooting through her was quickly replaced with panic. Oh dear. What had she done? Why hadn’t she remained professional when discussing the railroad owner—their main suspect?
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, to change back into that professional agent she knew she could be. “I started calling him by his given name when he gave me permission to do so, of course.”
Slowly, her brother shook his head, still keeping his eyes on her. “And come to think of it, when I was leaving the house, I spotted you through the window looking upon Mr. Lee as if he was the most perfect man you’d ever seen.” He paused and then frowned. “Oh, please don’t tell me you have feelings for this man when I’d warned you a while ago not to get involved.”
“Of course I don’t have feelings for him. Don’t be ridiculous.” She rose from the table, trying to do something to take her brother’s intense gaze off of her.
“You do!” He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Oh, Nicole, don’t you remember when I told you not to get involved with the suspects on a personal level? Can you not recall the few times I’ve made that mistake and had fallen for the woman, only to learn that she was the culprit? It’s a pain in your heart you’re not likely to forget.”
“Really, Gordon,” she snipped as she brushed crumbs off her gown. “I have not become smitten with the man. I know very well of the consequences.” She wrapped her fingers around the edge of the high-back wooden chair she’d been sitting in. “But you never did answer my question. How will you be able to find out when his servants aren’t going to be there?”
“I’ll figure it out, I assure you.” He sipped his coffee.
Grumbling, she turned to leave the room, but heard him say, “Nicole, you’d better stop your feelings for him now or you’ll have your heart broken.”
She scowled as an ache pierced her chest. Without answering him, she walked out of the room. What did he know, anyway? They couldn’t prove that Ashton Lee was the thief…although it was definitely starting to look as though he might be. Nothing made sense. Why would he want to steal from his own railroad? And for Heaven’s sake, if he were stealing from his railroad, wouldn’t he try to hide the fact better?
She wanted to believe it wasn’t him mainly because of what pointed in his direction. Indeed, a true thief wouldn’t have been so careless.
Grabbing her cloak, she hurried out of the house. A walk in today’s pleasant weather would clear her mind, and hopefully, help her to think clearer. Last night was not only a failure for Gordon, but for her as well. Because she wasn’t able to get a private moment with Ashton, how could she discover anything about the man he really was? The few times they had found intimate moments, she felt that he was a very honorable man—one she could trust.
Gradually, buildings loomed before her, and the street became busy with horses and carriage. She had to stay alert as not to run into any of the people hustling on the boardwalk, as well. Since she was not in the busy part of town, should she make a surprise visit to Ashton at his office? His building wasn’t too far away from her.
Just the thought of seeing his face made her heart beat with renewed life. Her excuse for dropping in unexpectedly would be that she was still very grateful for him saving her life last night. Although, if he were ever to find out that she had just been pretending, he’d hate her for sure. So she must make certain he never found out.
The closer she walked to his office, the more nervous she became. Last night’s event couldn’t leave her mind, especially when she thought back on the questions thrown at her. Apparently, they were all interested in knowing about her family. Dare she arrange a meeting with Ashton and her father? Conrad Bastian was just as talented in the art of disguise as Gordon, so she was certain her father could create a character just for Ashton to see. Perhaps then he would trust her just a little more.
Out of the corner of her eyes, a sign written in fancy ink on the lamppost drew her attention. She slowed her steps to read it. New York’s first ever Butler’s Ball had been arranged and was advertising the grand event for servants only. She’d read in the newspaper not too long ago, that the servants had rallied together a few times, hoping to get their masters to give them more time off. She could sympathize with both groups of people. Although she’d never grown up as a servant, as an undercover agent, she had played the part many times.
She came to a stop in front of the advertisement. It looked as if the workers’ rallying had paid off. According to this announcement, the servants were allowed to attend the ball and would not be reprimanded by their employers.
The article also gave the date this event would take place…day after tomorrow!
Excitement leapt inside her. This would be the perfect time for Gordon to sneak back inside Ashton’s house, because now they knew the servants would be gone.
Her thoughts stopped quickly. Why should she let Gordon do this when she could do it? She would have to watch and make certain Ashton wasn’t at home, either. She tapped her finger on her chin. In order to make certain Ashton wasn’t there, she might have to create a secret meeting for just the two of them. Of course, she wouldn’t show up, and her excuse would be that her father was watching her…or something like that. She’d figure out the details when the time came.
All she knew was that the night of the butler’s ball was the evening it needed to happen. With Ashton and the servants out of the house at the same time, there was nothing that could
stop her from searching his study. Nothing at all!
Chapter 12
Ashton stared out the window of his office toward the street, looking at nothing in particular. Every little thing that had happened last night ran through his mind, keeping him from doing any work. The railroad had already come across some issues this morning, which he had quickly fixed. He’d been absent minded when adding up the columns in the weekly ledger. He’d forgotten to carry the eight to the next line. He gritted his teeth, not believing how careless he’d been, especially since he had always been so bright when it came to math.
He blamed his lack of concentration on one woman. Nicole Bastian.
Why had he allowed one woman to twist his emotions so quickly in such a short amount of time? It was obvious why he’d become fascinated with her at General Babcock’s masked ball. Plain and simple, the woman was stunning, both in physical beauty and her personality. The times he’d met up with her after the Babcock’s ball were just as rewarding. She had somehow mesmerized him, and Heaven help him, he enjoyed being in that mental state—as if he were always floating on a cloud.
He kept going over everything Glynn and Larson had told him last night. Anger rose inside Ashton and he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stand the confusion in his head, but mostly, he couldn’t stand the pain in his heart from the doubts circling around her.
Was she the thief? Was she the enchanting woman he’d gotten to know—or the fairytale character that had two sides to her?
A sharp knock sounded on the office door, and Ashton’s elbow slid from the edge of his desk and he pitched forward, nearly hitting his head on his inkwell. “Enter,” he said. Collecting himself, he sat up on his chair, and tried to remove his dazed expression. He busied his hands, rearranging papers that littered his desk.
Mr. Wiggins opened the door but didn’t step all the way in the room. “Mr. Lee, Miss Bastian is here to see you. Are you available?”
