Torn in Toronto

by Wendy May Andrews

  Connor tightened his hand on the receiver as he listened to what the investigator had to say. He felt his attention was divided. He should have known better than to return this telephone call before Caitlyn had left. What if she accidentally picked up the call and heard what they were talking about? Wrenching his attention back to the call, Connor was cursing loudly in his mind. He had been right to suspect Westridge. But not Caitlyn. He should have known. He had known. But he had reacted badly to the report given him.

  “Thank you, Bruce, you’ve been very thorough, as usual.”

  “I’m sure there’s more to find if you’d like me to keep digging.”

  “That won’t be necessary at this point, I don’t think. You’ve confirmed my suspicions. I can take it from here to protect my assets, thank you.”

  “Very well, I’ll be available if you need anything further.”

  “Thanks,” Connor answered simply before hanging up. While this was supposed to be a safe and secure way of communicating, Connor wasn’t completely comfortable with discussing such sensitive subjects on the telephone. He should have just arranged a meeting. But he was anxious to hear what the investigator had discovered. Not that anything truly incriminating had been discussed on the line, and it wasn’t even anything that would get him in trouble. Westridge was the bounder under discussion. But Connor would prefer it not to be known that he had been looking into the man’s background. And he would really prefer Caitlyn never find out any of it.

  Shaking his head, Connor wondered why he was so hung up on protecting the girl’s feelings. It wasn’t as though he were invested in her in any way. He tried to tell himself it was because she was his friend’s sister and that it was familial feelings prompting his concern, but he knew he was lying. That was the trouble with lying to yourself - you always really knew the truth.

  He just hoped she hadn’t heard any of the conversation.

  Drumming his fingers on the top of his desk, Connor stared off into the middle distance. Or rather he stared out the large window of his office. He quite loved his view. He loved being able to overlook the hustle and bustle of the train depot and the port. Rather than finding it a distraction, he found it to be motivating. Each shipment he witnessed filled him with a sense of purpose and inspired him with more ideas of how he could expand his own industries.

  But now it was a distraction. He would rather be thinking about ways of making more money rather than having to devise a way to prevent a competitor from stealing from him. Bruce suspected Westridge hadn’t asked Caitlyn about Dalton Industries in order to provide her with a false sense of comfort in his presence. He agreed that it would have been out of character for a nobleman’s son to discuss such matters with a young socialite, so he wouldn’t have done so on their first outing. But the investigator had evidence that Westridge had approached other employees for information. Lowly workers who might have bragged about having information but in all reality had none.

  While Caitlyn was under the impression that she knew little about Connor’s company, answering the telephone gave her a window into all the workings of his industrial empire. Just the names of his callers could be useful information to one of his competitors. Or someone who would like to be one of his competitors, Connor thought with derision. Westridge hadn’t actually managed to break into the market, which was why he was so desperately seeking a way in.

  Pressing his lips together to prevent the foul language to leak out, Connor knew he would need a physical outlet for his frustrations. With a decisive nod, he stood abruptly from his desk, grabbed his hat, and strode from the room.

  “I’ll be leaving for a while, Miss Doherty. You may report to Curtis when you’re ready to leave. Please, put all your notes on my desk before you go.”

  She appeared startled by his abrupt departure but not in the least suspicious, much to Connor’s relief.

  “Have a lovely afternoon, Mr. Dalton. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Surely, she wouldn’t be wishing me well if she had overheard any of my conversation with the investigator. Connor found the thought reassuring as he hurried from his offices. It would probably create a flurry on the job site, but Connor was looking forward to joining one of his work crews for a few hours. It would be just what he needed to clear his mind and figure out what to do about Westridge.

  ~~~

  Caitlyn was relieved to have Connor out of the office. She had thought she heard him mention her name and had hurried toward his office but then realized he was talking on the telephone. Despite being a telephone operator, she still wasn’t completely used to the fact that you could hear one side of a conversation. Thinking she had misheard, she returned to the desk but then had struggled with an almost irresistible urge to listen in on his conversation.

  She was relieved to note that she had managed to refrain from violating his trust in such a way. The fact that he didn’t trust her completely had almost made her feel justified in doing it. Since he already considered her to be untrustworthy, why not prove him right, she had reasoned. But then she answered her own question. She would know if she did it, and her conscience would never allow her to forget the violation. Thankfully, just as the temptation was growing to an itch, the telephone rang and she was able to keep herself fully occupied until Connor had rushed through the room as though in pursuit of something, with no explanation and only scant instructions.

  With a shrug, Caitlyn reminded herself it was not her place to question her employer’s actions or motivations. She also tried to focus on her relief that he was no longer present. But despite his physical absence, Caitlyn felt as though he were still there. He hovered over everything in the small room. It was as though his scent or aura remained behind even though he had rushed away so completely.

  Now she was being fanciful. Maybe her mother was right and remaining unwed was turning her mind. She never would have thought it was possible, but she was clearly not quite right in the head, at least not where it concerned Connor Dalton.

  Caitlyn carefully repeated back the spelling of the caller’s name before saying goodbye with firm assurance that either Mr. Dalton or Mr. Curtis would return their call as soon as was possible.

  After the line went quiet, Caitlyn stared at the receiver with a degree of awe. Even though she had been using the device for several weeks now, it was still a matter of marvel to her. That someone on the other side of town could use their own device and she could hear them, even though she was sitting here in her little office. It was nothing short of a miracle. Connor had even told her that you could call all the way to England or Ireland with the telephone now. Caitlyn wished her mother would be willing to try it. Perhaps Mama could hear her relatives’ voices one day, instead of only communicating by letter as they did now.

  But she hadn’t yet been able to convince her mother to allow one to be installed in their home. Her mother didn’t even want to allow the electricity to be run to their house, but Caitlyn was relieved that her father had insisted. He had agreed that they needn’t retrofit the house just yet, but he refused to allow the opportunity to pass them by. Caitlyn didn’t witness her father putting his foot down about much but when he did, her mother usually simmered down and listened to him.

  Caitlyn couldn’t wait for there to be electricity in the house. It would be such a thrill to be able to read late without the fear of burning down the house if you fell asleep, as you had to be conscious of with candles or a lantern. But as long as she lived under her mother’s roof, it wasn’t likely that Caitlyn would be afforded the luxury.

  Her disquieting thoughts were interrupted by more callers until it was time for her to take her notes to her boss’ desk and then inform his assistant that she was leaving for the day.

  As she walked toward the streetcar stop, Caitlyn’s sigh was one of delight. Despite her disquiet earlier, she truly did enjoy her job. It gave her a sense of purpose, and having a schedule made her feel more productive with her day. While it was true that she no longer ha
d time for needlework or morning calls, those no longer seemed to be useful things to do with her time. She was still careful to help her mother as much as she was able, but it wasn’t as though there were many chores to be done since they had a maid who lived with them. Her mother wanted her to remain decorative. Caitlyn couldn’t be content with that any longer.

  But perhaps her mother was right, and she ought to marry. That would provide her with something useful to occupy her time. A house of her own, and eventually children, would be a good thing. But The Lovelorn columnist was correct, too. If she gave herself this time to enjoy the adventure of her employment, she had a better chance at being content in the future. Otherwise, she would always wonder if she had missed out on something.

  And truly, she would rather a husband who could consider her an intellectual partner rather than just an unpaid housekeeper and child minder. Having this experience working for Dalton Industries would give her a broader understanding of business matters, she was certain. She already knew far more than she had only weeks earlier, despite the fact that no one at the company ever actually told her anything. Perhaps she ought to inquire more. She had been raised to be conscious not to ask nosy questions, but maybe it wouldn’t be considered nosy to ask what exactly they were doing. She suited her thoughts to action the very next day.

  Getting out of the house in time to arrive twenty minutes before she was scheduled to start answering the ringing telephone had taken some doing considering Mrs. Doherty’s resistance to her absence, but Caitlyn breezed through the door well ahead of her usual time, a bright smile of excitement upon her face.

  “Mr. Curtis, I was hoping to bump into you.”

  Clearly the gentleman wasn’t used to being hailed quite so enthusiastically by members of the fairer gender as he merely stood gaping at her as she approached him.

  “I’m sorry to accost you, Mr. Curtis,” she continued with a smile. “Do you have a moment to answer some questions?”

  “Of-of course,” he stuttered. Caitlyn hadn’t thought the man had a speech impediment before and frowned over his obvious discomfort.

  “I have no wish to interfere with your day if you are truly too busy for me.”

  “Not at all, Miss.” The man had quickly regained his composure and gestured for her to precede him into the room that housed the telephone. At his insistence, Caitlyn sat in her usual seat beside the telephone and Curtis sat in a chair nearby.

  He tried to hide it, but Caitlyn rather thought he was still highly uncomfortable in her presence. She couldn’t imagine why. She had thought they had previously experienced comfortable interaction. Obviously, he felt differently. She made an effort to keep a pleasant smile on her face, hoping it would put him at ease.

  “What sort of questions did you wish to ask?”

  Caitlyn shrugged, now feeling a little embarrassed. She had thought this would be a straightforward conversation. Clearing her throat, she tried to put her jumbled thoughts into words.

  “I would like to have a little better understanding of what is done here at Dalton Industries. I know Mr. Dalton is involved with the installation of electricity into the residential neighborhoods, but is that the only thing he does?”

  Mr. Curtis’ gaze narrowed on her as though she were an unknown creature. “Is there a particular reason why you are asking this now? You have been working here for weeks and haven’t shown any particular interest before now, as far as I can tell. What has changed?”

  Caitlyn was shocked at the change in the man’s demeanor. Just moments before she had thought she needed to put him at ease, as he seemed discomfited by her very presence. Now he seemed to be filled with righteous indignation with her, but to her way of thinking it was highly misplaced. And she was intensely embarrassed and insulted by his question.

  “I beg your pardon, Mr. Curtis. Does not my very presence here indicate my interest?”

  “Not particularly,” he countered, not a deferential tendency in sight.

  “Well, to be perfectly frank, I haven’t felt comfortable asking before now. I didn’t really wish to reveal my ignorance, and I thought someone would surely tell me whatever I might need to know. But no information has been forthcoming, and I think I need to know at least a little bit to be in a better position to deal with the telephone calls.”

  “I think Mr. Dalton hired you to answer the phone and take messages, not to provide any information to any callers. You don’t need to know anything except how to spell to do that.”

  Caitlyn’s face filled with heat to the point that she actually felt lightheaded for the briefest moment.

  “Curtis, in my office, if you please.”

  Caitlyn and Mr. Curtis both jumped and turned toward the loud voice and its source that seemed to have snuck up on them without their noticing.

  “Mr. Dalton, I can explain.”

  “I’m sure you can, and you will do so immediately, in my office.”

  Caitlyn was mortified to be the source of trouble. She had never seen Connor so furious, not even when she was a little girl trailing along behind her big brother and his fascinating friends who didn’t enjoy her company nearly as much as she did theirs. She wasn’t sure what he was so angry about. If it was on her behalf, it was surely misplaced. It wasn’t the first time her intellect had been disregarded by a man. Just because she was pretty, most thought she was incompetent. But usually men of that ilk didn’t hide it nearly as well as Mr. Curtis had done. Before this, she had thought they were friends of a sort. At least friendly. Certainly, she hadn’t thought the man was so convinced of her unsuitability for the workplace.

  She kept her eyes averted as the men left the room. As if on cue, the telephone rang. With a sigh and a trembling hand, Caitlyn reached out toward the receiver wondering if she even ought to answer it.

  “Dalton Industries, good morning.”

  ~~~

  Connor was furious. He had never been angry with his assistant before. He had thought they were friends. He certainly had trusted the other man with nearly every piece of information there was to be known about his life and his company.

  “What on earth were you doing being so insulting to Miss Doherty?” While he wanted to shout, he kept his voice low, having no wish for Caitlyn to overhear. But his fury was unmistakeable even with his low tone.

  “She is a traitor, just as we thought. You have been nursing a viper in your bosom, Dalton.”

  If he weren’t so angry, he would have been amused by the usually serious man’s dramatic tone and words.

  “Even if that were true, I would expect you to display a modicum of respect to her as a gently bred woman. But I am convinced that she is innocent of any thoughts of treachery. And so, I have told you. What possessed you to continue your suspicions?”

  “She wanted to know all about Dalton Industries.” Curtis made the statement as though it were the final word needed. Connor gazed at him, awaiting more information. When none was forthcoming, he prompted.

  “And that made you angry with her, why?”

  “She hasn’t had the least interest in further information before this. Now, as soon as Westridge is sniffing around her, now she is filled with a desire to learn? Seems too coincidental to my way of thinking.”

  “I can see that it does. But you owe Miss Doherty a sincere apology.”

  Curtis sputtered as though he were the one who had been vilely insulted.

  “Owe her an apology? Dalton, have you had your head turned by her pretty face? You’ve been nursing a viper, I tell you.”

  “Miss Doherty is not a viper, Curtis, and if you don’t have the sense to see that, then maybe you aren’t fit for the job I’ve hired you for.”

  That had the desired effect of turning the man to silence as he stood gaping at Connor as though he had lost his mind. Connor dragged his hand through his thick hair and stretched out the tension in his neck and back. After glaring at his assistant, waiting for him to come to his senses, Connor finally relented when the man’s e
xpression slipped from indignant to confused.

  “Did I not tell you I had called our investigator?” he asked quietly.

  Curtis blinked and appeared sheepish. “You did, but it had slipped my mind. By the context, am I to presume that Bruce found some relevant information?”

  “From anything he can tell, Miss Doherty hadn’t had any level of personal contact with Westridge before the afternoon when you saw them together, aside from having been introduced socially a time or two.”

  Curtis scoffed. “That’s not enough reason to trust her,” he argued. “Westridge is a handsome bloke. And probably well-spoken and well-to-do. Women have had their heads turned by less.”

  “Many women, likely, but not Caitlyn Doherty.”

  “Are you quite certain you haven’t had your head turned by her pretty face?”

  Connor’s fury was such that he was swept with a desire to do violence to the other man. The thought must have been plainly written on his face as Curtis put up his hands and stepped back while stammering out his excuses.

  “I never should have said that. I’m so sorry, Mr. Dalton. But surely you realize I’m trying to protect you and your interests.”

  Connor glared at the man. “I thought we were friends, you and I.” He watched as his assistant swallowed and bobbed his head.

  “We are, boss, we are.”

  “Then why have you taken to insulting me and my employees? And apparently my judgment, as well? Have you suddenly taken leave of your senses?”

  To Connor’s mind there was no other explanation. His assistant had been steady, serious, and calm for the few years of their acquaintance. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had thought they were friends. The man’s behavior today was coming as a shock. And it was making Connor question his own judgment. Was he wrong about Caitlyn? Or wrong about Curtis? He continued to glower at his assistant, awaiting his further stammered explanation.

  “No, Dalton, I have not taken leave of my senses,” Curtis scoffed.

  “Well then, please, explain it to me.”