Secrets and Lies

Fifteen

Ashton scanned the railroad's monthly budget report for the tenth time, but nothing was adding up. Of course, his mind wasn't focused on work, but on Nicole Bastian, instead. A beautiful, mysterious, and very confusing woman.

It had surprised him how quickly he became suspicious of her yesterday, and equally shocking was how promptly he believed her story. It sounded plausible, yet the more he thought of it after she was gone, the more holes he found in her excuse.

She'd mentioned that her father had returned from an extended trip, and she went to visit him in his townhouse. Ashton had lived in New York for quite a while, and had never met a man with that particular French last name. When Ashton had talked to her at the masked ball, she led him to believe she lived in Staten Island, but she didn't. Not if her father lived here in New York. Ashton would have remembered seeing a woman so lovely. She would have attended some of the same functions he had, yet it was odd they'd never met or even crossed paths until the masked ball.

On the other hand, he did believe her excuse about why she and her brother dressed the way they did. Ashton had lived in New York long enough to know there were vagabonds and pickpockets everywhere. However, if she and her brother were worried about being asked for money, why was the carriage they climbed into one of the nicer and more expensive vehicles in town?

He took his focus off the ledgers and to the newspaper he'd found on the train yesterday lying on the corner of his desk. Another thing that bothered him was that article about General Babcock being arrested. The article had mentioned a journal that had been confiscated from the general's house that had all the information the police needed to arrest the man.

Deep down in the back of Ashton's mind, he wondered how Nicole was involved. Or was she at all? Nothing made sense. Why did he see her sneaking around in the general's study in the dark? But the general didn't know her, and she didn't know him. And why did Ashton feel there was a connection between those two people, but he just couldn't figure it out?

Shaking his head, he pushed the budget journal aside and rested his elbows on the desk. He glanced out the window. His office gave him a great view of the people boarding the train. It was good to see that the robberies hadn't affected their business, but he knew if the police didn't catch the thief, Conrail would go under. The government would stop using them to transport their money to the U.S Army. If the government couldn't trust the railroad, soon the people wouldn't, either.

The knock on the door startled Ashton from his thoughts. He scrubbed his palms over his face twice, and then sat back in his chair. "Enter."

The door opened and one of the train workers walked in. He was tall, but very thin, and had the reddest hair Ashton had ever seen on a man. His wide-eyed gaze scooted around the office slowly before finally landing on Ashton.

"Uh, pardon my interruption, Mr. Lee. My name is Orville Reddington, and I'm a porter on the train."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Reddington. What can I do for you?"

"It's nothing you can do for me, but I think you should know what happened yesterday during the train ride from here to Hartford."

Ashton's heart sank. No, not another robbery! "What happened?"

The man waved his thin hands as he talked. "Two people—a man and a woman—were asking some strange questions about the robbery. Those of us working on the train got suspicious, sir. We wondered if these two were somehow connected to the robberies."

Ashton scratched his chin. "A man and woman, you say? Do you remember what they looked like?"

Orville shrugged. "They were middle-class folks in their twentieth year or so. The woman, I remember, was pretty, and she had an infectious smile. She was very charming, too."

Ashton's chest tightened. "Was she wearing a yellow dress?"

Orville's eyes widened. "Did you see her, too? I didn't even know you were on the train yesterday."

"Yes, I saw her and wondered about her as well."

The other man sighed heavily and swept a lock of red hair off his forehead. "Oh, good. Well, if you know about her, then I won't fret."

He turned to leave, but Ashton stopped him. "Mr. Reddington?"

The man peered over his bony shoulder at him. "Yes?"

"I appreciate you being on the lookout for people trying to take advantage of our train. It makes me happy to know that you value your job that much."

The man smiled so wide the corners of his mouth nearly touched his ears. Of course, his face was thin and mouth was overly large, so perhaps the man's smile could touch his ears.

"Yessir!"

"Let me know if you see anything else."

"I sure will, Mr. Lee."

Ashton could see an extra bounce in Orville's walk when he left the office.

It was bad enough that Ashton suspected Nicole was up to something, but now... Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair. Why was she asking about the robberies? She and her brother couldn't possibly be involved. Ashton just wouldn't believe it. When he'd met her at the masked ball, she'd seemed too innocent, yet eager to share the adventure of running away from the drunken men, even if it put them alone in the shadows. Not once did he think she could be some kind of thief...unless she wanted to steal his heart.

Then again, she was very different from the women he'd known. Perhaps she was too quizzical and too adventurous.

He frowned. Why was he having doubts at all? It came down to this—he needed to ask her. It was obvious she was as interested in him as he was in her. She would explain to him what he didn't understand if only he asked her. The one thing he enjoyed about her was that she spoke her mind. He must believe there was some logical explanation for all of his confusion.

The knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. "Enter," he called out.

Mr. Wiggins opened the door. "Mr. Lee, there is a young woman here to see you."

Hope sprang in Ashton's chest. "Who is it? Did she leave a name?"

Nodding, the younger man scratched the side of his crooked nose. "Miss Bastian."

Relief swept over Ashton. Answers to his questions were within his grasp. He should take things slow if he meant to earn her trust.

He stood and straightened his gray suit jacket. "Please, show her in." Suddenly nervous, he adjusted his silk black tie with the diamond pin in the middle—a new fashion for men that replaced the cravat which he was still unaccustomed to wearing.

When she walked in, he lost his breath. She was stunning—an angel dressed in red. Wearing a short waist cherry-red jacket over her white blouse with gold buttons, her full skirt matched the jacket trimmed with black. She wore no bonnet today, for which he was grateful. He loved seeing her curly light brown hair. She had wound it in a loose coil at that back of her head, leaving curly wisps by her ears. She certainly was a vision. Slowly, the doubts he had earlier faded.

"I can see you approve of my attire this time," she said with a light and jovial voice.

"Indeed, I do." He walked around his desk, and just before reaching her, he put out his hand. She must have read his thoughts, for she slipped her black-gloved hand into his. "I will admit," he continued, "you are much easier on the eyes dressed this way."

She laughed as her gaze ran over his length. "And I will return the compliment. At least your clothes are not two sizes too big." She ran her gloved fingertips above his top lip. "And you look much better without a mustache."

Quickly, he snatched her hand before she could take it away, and brought her gloved fingers to his mouth and left a small kiss. "It does my heart good to hear such praise from you."

Her cheeks turned pink, clashing with her red outfit. "Come now, Ashton. Why are you so full of charm this morning?"

Keeping her hand in his, he led her to the chair beside his desk and helped her sit. Then he sat on the edge of his desk. "I thought you liked my charm."

She shrugged. "I do, actually, but the more you pour it on, the more I wonder if it's real or if you are just saying things like that for an alternative purpose."

"To be quite honest, Nicole, the words flow easily from my mouth whenever you are near."

She flipped her hand and rolled her eyes. "Now, I know you are exaggerating."

He laughed. "So tell me, my dear, are you here alone or is your cousin with you?"

"My cousin is still in Staten Island. I'm here with a chaperone, but I begged her to run an errand while I came in to visit an old friend."

His eyebrows lifted. "An old friend. Is that what I am now?"

"Don't be silly. I had to say something to her to make her not worry."

"Ah, quick thinking, my dear." He winked. "So tell me, do you approve of my office?"

Her gaze skipped around the room for a moment. "Considering I never really saw the one in Staten Island, I don't have anything to compare this one with. However, I think your office is lovely. Although," she trailed off as she tapped her finger against her lips. "I believe it needs more decorations."

"Decorations? Why do you think that?"

"My uncle has an office for his small shipping company, and I've been there a few times." She stood and walked to the closest wall. "I believe you should have a picture of a train right here." She held her hands out wide, showing him how large the picture should be. "And over here," she moved to the next wall, "should be smaller scenery pictures." She turned and pointed to the window. "Standing right here should be a potted plant. The sunlight streaming through this window would be wonderful for a plant." She tilted her head to the side and folded her arms. "I also think you should have curtains on the windows, as well."

He scratched the back of his head. "Curtains, you say? Will they have to be lace?"

She chuckled. "Not if you don't want them to be."

"Are you by chance a decorator? You seem to know what you're talking about."

"Well, considering my father has moved me and my brother from town to town several times while we were growing up, and my mother died when I was very young, I have been the one in my family to make our house a home. Needless to say, I do make a splendid decorator, if I must say so myself."

Here was the opening for him to ask one of the questions that had been on his mind lately. He moved off the desk and sat in the empty chair beside her, taking her hand in his where it felt right. "Might I ask how your mother died?"

Her smile gradually disappeared. "From consumption."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He rubbed her fingers. "So your father moved you around a lot? Was it here in New York?"

"No, it was actually between Washington DC and here. Father's first job was in Washington DC, and from there, we just moved all over, wherever he could find work."

Confusion fogged his mind. He could tell by the way she dressed that she was wealthy, and yet, she made it sound like her father didn't have many jobs. "What kind of work does your father do?"

He waited for her answer, and it surprised him how long she paused—as if she was trying to think of an answer. Wouldn't she know what her father did?

"Well, you see," she said slowly, "he does a lot of things. He does whatever is needed to earn money to support his family. More often than not, he works for the same man, but his employer sends him to different locations."

"Oh, I see." He nodded. He received the impression that she was uncomfortable talking about her father's employment history. Hopefully, it wasn't something illegal. "How long have you been in New York?"

"Only a couple of years, really. I have visited my aunt and uncle for several years, so I feel as if I've lived in this area all my life."

"That's understandable." He nodded, feeling slightly better that she had answered that question for him.

"And what about you?" she asked sweetly. "How long have you been in New York?"

"Longer than a few years. But truthfully, I've lived here all my life."

"So tell me," she leaned closer to him, "what were you doing before you became partners in the Conrail Railroad?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Believe it or not, I was a banker."

She gasped and her eyes widened. "A banker?"

"Yes, my father owned one of the largest banks in New York. During the war, it grew by leaps and bounds. I learned a lot from him, but the most important lesson I learned was how to budget money." He shrugged. "That's one of the reasons I became partners with Nickerson and Larson. They needed someone in their railroad who had a head for budgeting."

She was silent for a few awkward moments as her gaze narrowed on him. He couldn't read her thoughts and wondered what she was thinking right now. Her smile almost looked forced as she studied him. But then she took a deep breath and her face relaxed, which made him feel more at ease.

"I would have never guessed that about you, Ashton."

He arched an eyebrow and said in a humorous manner, "I suppose we all have small secrets from our past, don't we."