A throb began to pound in Nicole’s forehead. Too many similarities that made Ashton a prime suspect. Then again, she didn’t know if she should trust this woman or not. However, by Angela’s wide-eyed expression, the detective seemed to believe her.
“I don’t think the police have given such a perfect description of the robber. How remarkable,” Angela muttered.
“Isn’t it, though?” Margaret shook her head.
“Well, I thank you for clearing that up for me.” Angela folded her hands across her large bosom. “I just hope the police are looking for the right person now.”
“I pray that as well.” Mrs. Merriweather smiled. “I better be on my way now. I hope to see you again soon.” She turned her attention to Nicole. “And it was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Likewise, I’m sure.” Nicole watched the other woman waddle down the street before she turned to Angela and scowled. “What exactly does Mrs. Merriweather think you do?”
Chuckling, Angela shook her head. “My sweet girl, there are some of us who were spies during the prince regent years, you know.” She nodded in the direction Mrs. Merriweather was walking. “She was a spy during this time. She isn’t one now because she remarried after her husband died, and she is just fine with her role as his wife.”
“Oh,” Nicole breathed a sigh of relief. “Should we believe her about the thief’s description?”
Angela arched an eyebrow. “Margaret is one of the biggest busybodies I know, so if she says that is the rumor...I believe her.”
Inwardly, Nicole groaned. She really didn’t want to hear that.
“And I know you’re thinking what I’m thinking,” Angela said softly as she touched Nicole’s hand. “You are thinking this points to Mr. Lee, aren’t you?”
“Unfortunately, I am.” She sighed heavily. “I still don’t believe he did it, though, but I have no proof.”
“What is telling you this, my dear girl? Is it your head—or your heart?”
Nicole shrugged and tried to smile. “I wish I knew the difference between the two.”
“You will know when the time comes.”
Angela stepped toward the millinery’s shop, and Nicole grudgingly followed. As the other woman chatted with the milliner, Nicole slowly wandered through the shop but wasn’t really looking at anything. Not when her mind was spinning in a thousand different directions.
Her chest grew heavy with worry, yet her mind argued that they still hadn’t found any solid proof that Ashton was involved with the railway robberies. The extra money in his bank account didn’t mean anything...and neither did this description going around town.
What she needed was hard, physical proof, and somehow, someway, she needed to get it. But how? She would be at his house for a dinner party in a few days, yet how could she sneak around without everyone knowing? The fact was, she couldn’t. She needed her brother, her father—or even Mrs. Phelps—to do the sneaking while she was keeping Ashton and his guests entertained.
Nicole moved to the window and leaned against the pane as she stared out into the busy street. Sighing, she frowned. What kind of proof could they search for in Ashton’s house? He wasn’t foolish enough to keep the stolen money lying around, so looking for that is out of the question. And if he were involved, he wouldn’t be doing this alone. He would definitely need help, so perhaps he has some correspondence in his study somewhere. Maybe even in his bed chambers. Possibly, but she certainly wasn’t going to convince him to take her to his room just so she could look. No, her brother would be better at doing that.
Although...did she want her brother in the same house where she and Ashton were? Especially when she practically melted every time that sensual man looked at her with his desire-laden eyes?
She quickly shook herself out of the stupor she had been falling into and concentrated harder on her plans. So, Gordon would just have to stay away from the house that night. Mrs. Phelps could do it—or the other two detectives could do this job, as well. They wouldn’t be watching her every move and hearing her every sigh like her brother would.
“All right, Miss Bastian, I’m ready now.” Mrs. Phelps bustled past her and to the door.
Nicole followed right behind. When they were out on the street once more, she said, “I think I have a plan for the night of Ashton’s dinner party.”
Angela’s footsteps slowed, and she watched her with curious eyes. “What kind of plan?” She spoke in a low voice.
“I was thinking that while I’m being entertained by Mr. Lee and his friends, that you or one of the other detectives could sneak around in Mr. Lee’s bedroom. I’m not sure just how close his study is from where we will dine, but if it’s not close, someone could look there, too.”
“What exactly should we search for?”
Nicole explained to her friend that if Ashton were involved, he wouldn’t be alone. Naturally, there would be some kind of letters back and forth about the plans to rob the railway. Mrs. Phelps nodded as her smile widened.
“Splendid idea, Nicole. I believe that is something your brother could do.”
Groaning, she shook her head. “I don’t know if I want my brother there.”
“And why not? He is as quiet as a mouse, you know. He will be able to get in and out without anyone hearing.”
