To Love a Spy

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To Love a Spy Page 29

by Aileen Fish


  It was difficult not to think of Ashton all the time, especially remembering his painful expression when she confessed the truth to him. It didn’t bother her when she’d learned he suspected her. After all, she was the one sneaking around in his house and going behind his back and asking questions. Yet, it still left a hollow ache to her heart knowing the trust had been broken. It was up to her to repair it. She just wished she knew how.

  By the time Nicole made it just inside town, her limbs were shaking. She needed to sit and rest a spell in order to regain her strength. A small park was just steps away, and she headed in that direction. When she found a shaded tree, she stumbled and fell against the tree, and then slid to her bottom, resting her back against the trunk as it braced her.

  Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back. Perhaps coming this far into town had been a mistake. From the first day of being a Secret Agent, Nicole was forced to put aside her fears and to embrace bravery. It took a few years for her to finally gain it, and she needed to remain strong no matter what she had to face. Still, there were times she wished she could be like normal young ladies her age. For once, it would be nice to have a gallant man want to take care of her and protect her. For once, she wanted a man to get to know the real lady inside this courageous woman’s body.

  From the distance, a Scottish ring to a man’s whiny voice brought her out of her thoughts and she opened her eyes. Standing near the building by the park’s entrance was none other than Joseph Donnelly. It was nearly impossible to forget a man like Donnelly. Taller than most Scots, he was very thin, and he had the oddest color of hair she had ever seen. It was almost like a burnt orange. His freckles popped out on his face, making him stand out even more. The man always tried to dress like a gentleman, but his actions and speech gave away his true character.

  A year ago, the agents were investigating Opium dens that were reported to be spreading across the country. At that time, Nicole was with her brother and Mrs. Phelps in San Francisco trying to put the Opium dens out of business—which they succeeded in doing, mostly.

  Joseph Donnelly was an immigrant from Scotland, and close friends with one of the ladies who the agents had arrested. On several occasions the agents questioned Donnelly, only to discover the man was a constant liar. So what was he doing here in New York? During this time, they couldn’t find any reason to arrest him, although Nicole wished they had.

  Now as she watched him, her interest in Donnelly grew. He and another man talked briefly on the street before the other man left. Instead of leaving himself, Donnelly walked to the nearest building and stopped. He peered up and down the street as if he were waiting to meet someone else. Shifting from one foot to the other, Nicole detected his impatience. From time to time, he scratched his overly large nose—another feature on him that was hard to forget.

  He pulled a pocket watch out of his coat pocket and checked the time. Shaking his head, he placed the watch back and continued to search the street. Indeed, he was waiting for something, and it looked as if they were late.

  A few minutes later, a woman slowly strolled up the walkway toward town wearing the latest style of dress. A parasol blocked her face so Nicole couldn’t tell her age. When Donnelly spotted her, his fidgeting stopped. He turned sharply and headed to the back of the building. The woman’s steps slowed considerably as she came closer. Just before she could pass the building, she made a sharp turn and quickly headed toward the back as well.

  This made the pair more interesting in Nicole’s vision, but she didn’t want to be caught spying on them in case they noticed her, so she closed her eyes and hung her head to the side as if she were asleep. Barely opening her eyes, she studied the couple’s private meeting. Of course she couldn’t hear them, but they stood close enough to each other as if not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation. The man did most of the talking as he waved his hands in the air.

  Nicole could see the woman a little better now, but still the parasol hid most of her face. Every so often, the woman shifted, but she still didn’t allow Nicole to see her fully.

  When the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tin, Nicole’s interest escalated. A small tin was the very thing dealers used when selling Opium. She didn’t dare start a new case, not until the one with Ashton was solved, but her father must know about this. Today, if at all possible.

  The woman lowered the parasol to reach into her wrist purse. Seconds later, she pulled out some money. Now that the woman’s face was out in the open, recognition struck and Nicole couldn’t believe her eyes. No, this can’t be true. The sun must be playing tricks on her. But even after the lady paid Donnelly and turned to walk away, Nicole could see the woman’s identity. Mrs. Larson—Steve’s wife—the mousy woman from the dinner party at Ashton’s house.

  Excitement pumped through Nicole once more, and she hoped it would soon move her legs since they were the very thing keeping her resting under the tree. She needed to alert the agents. And, she needed to find Ashton and let him know. She highly doubted this had anything to do with the train robberies, but she felt Ashton needed to know about his partner’s wife, nonetheless.

  Nicole remained still even after Mrs. Larson disappeared from sight. Donnelly’s gaze moved around him and rested on Nicole. She didn’t move, hoping he would believe she was asleep. Her ruse worked, because he turned and left his spot behind the building, making his way toward the street going through town.

  Once the man was gone, she breathed a sigh of relief. She pulled away from the tree, but her limbs were still drained of energy. Rubbing her forehead, she closed her eyes. Perhaps she should stay by the tree and wait until she was more rested. It didn’t look very proper to be alone and asleep by the tree, yet what else could she do if walking was nearly impossible at this moment? Still, she must move—if even just to a store or something. Surely, she’d be able to send her father or brother a missive, letting them know she was here and to come get her.

  Taking a deep breath for strength, she struggled to stand, using the tree for support to brace her hand against. Just as she knew they would, her legs trembled. Under her breath, she cursed herself for being so stubborn and wanting to venture into town before she was physically able.

  She decided to take a shortcut into town by walking through the park. That might help, only because it gave her enough trees to rest by whenever she needed.

  Turning, she took a step, but nearly collided with someone rushing up to her. Startled, she stumbled back, wondering why she hadn’t heard the man coming toward her. Mere steps in front of her, he stopped, his eyes widened in shock. Then a scowl crossed his familiar face.

  “Miss Bastian.” He shook his head. “Whot a surprise it is tae run into ye here. Whot’s it been? A year since wee last met?” He folded his arms. “It does surprise me how quickly ye move from state to state. I believe wee saw each other last in San Francisco. Am I correct?”

  Fright washed over her as she stared at Joseph Donnelly. Normally, she wouldn’t be afraid of him, but in her weakened condition, she couldn’t help but feel defenseless right now. She’d quickly assumed he knew she’d watched him sell the Opium to Mrs. Larson. After all, why else would he confront her?

  Talking her way out of this was essential at this time, but knowing Donnelly the way she did, he wouldn’t believe her. Especially since he knew she had been responsible for getting his woman friend arrested in San Francisco.

  “Indeed, this is a surprise, Mr. Donnelly.” She tried to make her voice cheerful, but she doubted it sounded that way to him. “Pray, what are you doing so far from home?”

  His darkened gaze zeroed in on her, appearing more menacing. “Och! Don’t ye go actin’ like ye weren’t watchin’ me earlier, because I’m not that stupid. Ye were able to git tae me in San Francisco, but I no’ whot tae watch for now.”

  He grasped her injured arm, and she let out a small cry. “Please release me at once. I have done nothing to bring on your abusive nature.”

  �
��Really?” He arched an eyebrow. “Dinna ye hear me, woman? I just said I no’ ye were watchin’ me earlier.”

  Helplessness grew inside her, but she must stay strong. And pray…yes, she must pray for someone to help her. “Watching you, sir? I was just taking a nap by this tree. How could I have been watching you when my eyes were closed?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh, ye still think I’m stupid, don’cha? Well, I’m not stupid.”

  His grip tightened, and pain sliced through her arm once again. But she must not let him know about her injury. He would just use it to his advantage. “Please, Mr. Donnelly, unhand me. I assure you, I do not know what you’re talking about.”

  “Whot case are ye workin’ on now?” he sneered. “Are ye searchin’ for an Opium den again?”

  She tried to peel his fingers off her arm, but his hold was too strong. Either that, or she was too weak. “Actually, no. We are working on something else entirely.”

  “So whot are ye doin’ by yerself in the park, restin’ under a tree? If ye were so tired, why weren’t ye restin’ at home?” He nodded assuredly. “It’s like I told ye, Miss Bastian, I no’ ye, and I don’t believe a word yer sayin’.”

  Her hopes sank. She was in deep trouble now.

  ~*~

  Ashton crumbled the note from Patsy in his hand. His housekeeper had a servant inform him that Nicole had gone for a walk, and hadn’t returned. That confounded woman!

  Grumbling under his breath, he hurried out of his office and mounted his horse. He’d never in his life met anyone so bullheaded…and yet so charming. Sometimes he wondered if she had a brain at all, and then, most times, he couldn’t believe how intelligent she really was.

  Right now, however, his thoughts were leaning toward her absent brain. Why would she want to take a walk in her weakened condition? Patsy had kept him abreast of Nicole’s recovery, and although she was healing nicely, she for certain couldn’t have regained all her strength, especially to walk back to his house by now.

  Not knowing which way Nicole could have gone, he pushed his horse in the direction of his house, hoping he’d spot her on the way. If he didn’t…well, perhaps he shouldn’t worry about it. Yet, how could he not? Even as upset as he was because she lied to him, she was the only one who could save his hide. He needed her to help him find the true thief before the police figured they had evidence against him and arrested him instead.

  As he headed through town, he swept his gaze from one side to the other, trying to see her. Because the weather was so beautiful today, there were many couples out strolling, and so many more carriages than he wanted for this time of the day. The crowded street made searching for her more difficult. Yet he knew the curves of her body, and the tilt of her face, and by now he’d memorized the alluring swing of her hips when walking away from him.

  Funny to think he could recall all of that. No matter what happened between him and Nicole, he would always remember her and the way she made his heart beat with renewed life. He frowned. He’d also remember how badly his heart crumbled when he discovered her treachery, too.

  Just as he was reaching the edge of town, out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed a man and woman in the park. At first glance, he realized the woman struggled to get out of the man’s clasp. When he studied them a little closer, his heart dropped. It was Nicole. She was in trouble!

  Kicking his horse in the sides, he urged the animal faster, riding toward the struggling couple. Just before reaching them, they both turned and looked in his direction. He doubted Nicole recognized him at first, but the stranger with her had wide frightened eyes.

  Ashton swung off the horse and grasped the other man by the front of his shirt. The action made the man release Nicole. She stumbled back and fell to the ground.

  “I suggest you get out of here quickly, before I’m tempted to whip you with these reins,” he ground out, aiming his fierce stare at the man. Nodding, he muttered some Scottish sounding words before turning and running away.

  Ashton knelt beside Nicole. Her whole body shivered. “Blasted woman,” he said as he scooped her up in his arms. “What made you think you could walk this far into town when you’re still healing?”

  Closing her eyes, she laid her head against his chest. He carried her to the horse and situated her on the saddle first before climbing behind her. He adjusted her on his lap a little more closely before gathering the reins and urging the horse into a trot.

  “Th-thank y-you,” she whispered, cuddling against his body.

  “What were you thinking?” he asked, wrapping one arm around her.

  “I-I sup-pose I wasn’t thinking at all, was I?”

  “Not one bit,” he grumbled. “Hold on tight. I’ll get you home as quickly as I can.”

  He pushed the animal a little faster. She clutched his waistcoat, burying her face against his chest. She didn’t say another word, for which he was relieved. As upset as he was right now, he didn’t know what he’d say to her that he’d regret later. And who was that man in the park and what was he trying to make her do? Ashton would ask questions later when she had more strength.

  When he rode up the drive to his home, Patsy and Veronica ran out of the house. He stopped the horse, and keeping Nicole in his arms, maneuvered carefully off the animal. Patsy and the other servant rushed to help him, but he shook his head. “Go get her bed ready, and pour her a hot tub. She’s cold.”

  Ashton peered down into Nicole’s face. She stared at him through glassy eyes. Her body still trembled, but thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as before. Suddenly, he had the urge to kiss her forehead and assure her he’d always protect her. But before the words could leave his mouth, he bit them back. However, he did press his lips to her forehead, even if it wasn’t a real kiss.

  As he carried her up the stairs to her room, he pondered over his feelings right now. From their first meeting until now, she’d always made him feel like a gallant warrior—like her protector. Because this emotion was foreign to him, he cherished the times she made him experience this. He didn’t want to stop feeling that way no matter how she’d hurt him.

  Perhaps he was the weak man his father had always accused Ashton of being, because right now, the ache in his chest wasn’t from her betrayal, but realizing that if he lost her, he’d never feel this way again.

  Chapter 16

  Strange how so much bed rest could rejuvenate a person, but Nicole finally felt as if she had more strength now than when she’d walked to town. Even if she felt better, she wasn’t going to push herself as she had the other day. Setbacks were not good for her healing process. She was a busy woman and had a case to solve, and she couldn’t do it lying around all the time.

  During her father’s visit the other day, they had discussed her staying here until she was fully recovered, mainly so she could learn more about Ashton in order to prove his innocence. With any luck, she’d also discover the thief as well.

  While in bed for the past twenty-four hours, she did a lot of sleeping, but when she was awake, she had time to think. With a heavy sigh, she frowned. She’d been stupid to leave Ashton’s house and walk toward town knowing that she didn’t have the strength. Then again, if she had stayed here, she wouldn’t have seen the exchange between Joseph Donnelly and Mrs. Larson. And she wouldn’t have been able to have Ashton come to her rescue.

  She’d hurt him terribly with her lies, and although he acted as if he were still upset with her, she knew he still held some deep feelings for her. Why else would he rescue her the way he had? Why else would he have carried her so very gently up the stairs to her room when she had lost her strength?

  During her bed rest, Ashton had only visited her once, and that was while Patsy was still here. He’d asked his servant about Nicole’s welfare and then left. She really needed to talk to him, and now that she had more strength, she’d make certain they had their chat, even if she had to wait late at night until his return.

  While he was gone, she had penned a letter to Mrs. Phelp
s, requesting to speak with her. Nicole hoped Ashton’s servant delivered the letter promptly as requested.

  She’d wandered his house and even outside to his lawn, but that hadn’t cured her boredom. His library surprisingly held many volumes of books, but she couldn’t concentrate long enough on the story to get any sort of enjoyment out of it. However, she jotted down notes and thoughts as she tried to piece everything together about this case.

  Time slowly ticked by as she sat in the sitting room. She hated being this bored. Her mind wandered to the framed paintings on the wall. One was a Rembrandt, and the other was a James Whistler. She’d loved art and as a child, she tried her own hand at painting. Although she was quite good, training to be an agent came first and foremost in her life at the time.

  Outside in the hallway, the floor creaked and Nicole moved her gaze to the doorway. Patsy stepped inside and smiled.

  “Miz Nicole, ya have a visitor.” She motioned her hand behind her.

  Nicole peeked behind the larger woman and recognized a familiar face. “Let her in,” she said quickly.

  Mrs. Phelps moved around Patsy and entered the room. Nicole stood and reached her hands out to her friend.

  “I’m so happy to see you. I’ve missed you terribly,” she told the other agent.

  Angela nodded. “I’ve missed you, as well.” Her gaze wandered to the paintings, to the floor at the Persian rug. She’d eyed the rosewood cushioned wooden chairs a little slower, and then moved her focus to the beige chaise lounge with walnut trim. “I must say, Mr. Lee has an impressive home.”

  “Indeed he does.” Nicole smiled. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Yes, that would be lovely.”

  Nicole met Patsy’s gaze again. “Would you bring us some tea and refreshments?”

  “Ah sure will, Miz Nicole.”

  Once the housekeeper left, Nicole and Angela sat on the blue and gray, high-back sofa. Angela patted Nicole’s hand. “You are looking well. I’m happy to know you’re recovering quickly.”

 

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