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NICO WATCHED MR. TRAVERS leave, but not before the man shook his hand, in front of the Armstrong lawyer and several police officers, assuring him that he wouldn’t stop until the matter was settled.
And Nico was free to go.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, Mr. Gaston, and I don’t intend to keep this polite going forward. I was raised with Armstrongs, and I know full well what your employer is capable of.”
Nico stood back, away from the conversation, and an officer waved him closer to a cell.
“Please, sir, we don’t want any trouble. You’ll be treated well here, I promise.”
He hovered by the open room, which was small but appeared to be relatively clean. A small bed rested along one wall, with a thin blanket folded neatly at its end.
Stepping inside and allowing this police officer to slide those bars closed would be an admission of guilt . . . or would it? Would it be best for Mr. Travers if he didn’t argue and allowed the man to handle this battle for him?
Nico was not a man used to letting others fight for him, but in this case, he wondered if it would be best to stay silent, and focus on praying for patience.
For justice.
Mr. Travers slammed the door to the police station behind him, rattling the bars of the cell, and Nico walked forward, into the small room, staring at the wall in front of him as the bars clanked shut.
The lawyer made some satisfied noises, grunting and harrumphing for a few moments, but no one celebrated with him. The heels of his shoes clicked on the stone floor as he approached the cell, but Nico didn’t turn around.
“I’ll return, and by then we’ll have grounds to take you into the city, where you can be property questioned and handled.”
Handled?
What was the man talking about now?
And Manhattan? If his parents found out, they would not only worry, but they might be drawn into this, knowing their temperament.
He couldn’t allow that to happen.
But how could he stop it?
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Several officers huddled outside of Nico’s cell after Mr. Gaston left, humming awkwardly as if to show how pleased he was with himself. Nico sat on the small bed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and fold his hands together.
One officer spoke, and another went on.
“It’s just that Mr. Armstrong . . .”
“Is a very powerful man, yes, I am well aware,” Nico interrupted him, knowing it was rude but unable to help himself.
He was tired of hearing that phrase. It didn’t give the man or his lawyer an excuse to treat Nico or anyone else like this.
“Are you hungry? Mr. Travers told us to be sure you were comfortable . . . er, as much as you can be while you wait here.”
Nico smiled. Mr. Travers had been the one bright spot in the morning, his anger and frustration equal to Nico’s own.
To have someone who believed in him without question, someone outside of his family and childhood friends, was a gift, one he would not take lightly.
The officers muttered among themselves, and Nico stared at his joined hands, asking God to help his employer, not only to find a way to assist Nico, but to calm Mr. Travers’ own thoughts and worries.
He had his own family to look to, as well as his business, and Nico didn’t like knowing that he was a distraction from either.
His thoughts wanted to drift from one worry to another, but he managed to pull his focus back to the Lord, closing his eyes against his concerns and the chatter of the officers as they roamed around outside of his cell, clearly waiting to find out what was to come.
He hardly heard the door open, or the footsteps that accompanied the sound, both distant in his mind as he repeated his silent prayers.
Until a familiar voice made him wonder if he had fallen asleep as he sat, drifting into a wonderful dream.
“Nico!”
Faith’s tone was urgent, as if she wasn’t sure he was listening, or if he was ill.
When he opened his eyes and found her truly standing there, outside of the bars, Nico leapt to his feet and rushed over, curling his fingers around the iron.
He began to shake when she covered his hands with her own, and didn’t bother to hold back when he saw the tears slip from her beautiful blue-green eyes, reaching out to wipe them away with his thumb as he rested a hand on her cheek.
“This is no place for a lady, Miss Faith. Does your father know you’re here? Oh . . . Mr. Duncan.”
Nico watched Thomas approach from the corner of his eye, sure that Faith’s cousin would have something nasty to say to him, perhaps that he was pleased to see him in jail.
But Thomas only pushed his hands in his pants pockets and nodded once at Nico, ignoring the police officer’s greetings and mumblings.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I knew you were being questioned, but this . . . this is ridiculous.”
Nico shook his head and gripped the bars tighter. As if she felt his frustration, Faith pressed her hands against his own.
He let go, taking her hands in his.
“Um, sir, that is, we’re not supposed to allow hand-holding.”
Thomas raised his eyebrows at the officer who spoke, and the man immediately stopped talking. Nico wondered why in the world Thomas would defend him, while he held Faith’s hands in his own?
Why had Thomas accompanied Faith here, instead of finding a way to keep her from seeing him?
“I’m sorry, Nico. I’m sure there will be time when we can talk more, but this isn’t it.”
Thomas, who seemed to understand Nico’s unspoken question, finally said something, and Faith turned her head to smile at him, clearly appreciative.
That was the most important thing, Nico thought, relieved, that the two of them had reconciled. He didn’t want to come between Faith and her family, or between her and her best friend.
“Uncle Will is pulling out all the stops, telephoning his contacts in Manhattan and making arrangements for his lawyer to come here to speak with you,” Faith brought Nico’s attention back to her.
Her face was flushed, and her hair was damp against her forehead.
He pushed it back gently, just as he had wanted to do for weeks now, feeling the heat of her skin under his fingers.
Thomas cleared his throat.
“We need to be going, Faith. I told your parents we wouldn’t be long.”
With that one sentence, Thomas told the officers that Mr. Davenport knew where his daughter was, and must have approved of her visit.
The officers began to mutter among themselves again, and Nico wondered if this would be a quick addition to the gossip mill that kept Newport running.
Of course it would.
And what would that mean for Faith’s reputation?
“I told my parents about you, and they’ll expect you to visit as soon as you’re able.”
Nico blinked a few times. What was she saying? That sounded much too easy, if her words meant what he took them to mean.
But her smile, along with a small, nervous laugh, assured him that he was right.
It was a bittersweet relief, knowing that he could ask her parents to court her, with her smile as a promise that they would approve.
But first, he had to get out from behind these bars, with his name, and Mr. Travers’ business, cleared of all wrongdoing.
“And Thomas, his father . . .”
“Faith, I think you need to stop talking now.”
Thomas was abrupt as he rested a hand on Faith’s shoulder and tugged her away from Nico. Nico glanced over at the officers, who were paying attention to every word and gesture between the three of them, and immediately understood.
Thomas’ father was doing something that Thomas didn’t want these men to know.
And if Thomas’ parents owned the courier service . . .
Nico felt overwhelmingly blessed, his prayers answered not only by assistance from Mr. Travers, but by the Duncans, who, of all people, might be the best at discovering how this theft took place.
By finding the courier boy who handled the tubes Nico had given him.
But Faith didn’t seem to understand, her pretty face twisted into a grimace.
“Thomas, we’ve only just arrived, and I wanted to reassure him that we’re doing all we can to help.”
Nico tightened his grip on her hands, then let her go.
“That’s all right, Faith, I understand,” he smiled at her, just as he took a quick look at her cousin, who shifted his own gaze meaningfully towards the officers.
“Do you need anything? Are you hungry?”
The words were rushed, and Thomas caught Nico’s eye as Nico smiled to reassure Faith that he was fine.
“I never thought I would say these words from a jail cell, but I’m well. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re worried.”
He whispered the last sentence to her, and something unfurled inside his chest when he saw her focus shift from his eyes to his lips and back again.
Whatever it took, he wanted to be with this woman for the rest of his life.
The idea made him smile, and Faith, squinting with uncertainty, smiled back tentatively.
“You should go, Faith. I’m not going anywhere, not until your uncle comes for me.”
Nico watched Thomas nod once behind Faith, sure that his intention was to take her out of here.
She would only become more upset, knowing that she couldn’t do anything to release him, and she was as determined as she was sweet.
When she backed away, he watched her turn to the officers, who were huddled together close to the counter now, staring at the spectacle before them.
“If any harm comes to him, I’ll hold you all personally responsible. Do you understand?”
Thomas smiled then, and Nico realized that he had never seen such a pleased expression on the other man’s face. He was proud of his cousin, and it was so obvious that he loved her.
Did his actions today prove that he wouldn’t stand in Nico’s way when he declared his intentions? Her parents were the most important part of Faith’s life, Nico was certain, but Thomas was vital to her happiness.
He would never make her choose between him and her cousin.
“I’ll come back, but hopefully I won’t have to,” she looked at him again, backing away and allowing Thomas to take her hand. The two of them together were a force to be reckoned with. “And I won’t stop praying.”
“Neither will I, Faith. My faith is strong, as I know yours is.”
Nico heard the sound of the words as he spoke them, realizing that he meant more than one thing with them.
Her quick smile reassured him that she understood as well.
Would she indeed become his Faith, in truth, when all of this was resolved?
“Good day, Miss Davenport, Mr. Duncan.”
Several officers spoke up and tipped their hats as Faith and Thomas left, but Faith glanced back at Nico one more time before the door closed behind them, and there was no trepidation in her eyes.
Only resolve.