Written on the Wind (The Blackstone Legacy #2)(71)

Mr. Asher’s face was full of sympathy, and she took a sobering breath before crossing to her father’s office door.

Oscar rose to his feet as she entered. To her surprise, he looked neither furious nor coldly angry . . . only tired and sad. Defeated. He leaned heavily on the desk, his shoulders sagging.

“You have seen the newspapers?” he asked.

“Yes.”

His leaned even more heavily on the desk, looking up at her with pained eyes. “Natalia, you don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry.”

She hadn’t expected kindness. The wall of armor she’d been preparing all morning slipped, and anguish bloomed inside her.

“I am too,” she whispered.

Her father gestured to a chair. “Have a seat. We need to discuss how to handle this.”

Despite his kindness, it didn’t sway him from what needed to be done. She would be removed from the railroad account. Attempting to keep her on would undermine the bank’s reputation. It wasn’t fair, but society had never been fair toward women who tried to slip into a man’s world.

Her father warned that reporters had been congregating outside the bank for two days, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. “It would be best if you could stay out of sight for a while. Is there somewhere you’d like to go? I still have the hunting lodge in Canada.”

She glanced away, rebelling against the idea, but Oscar clearly wanted her as far away from New York as possible. It would probably be wise, but she couldn’t do it. Her townhouse still needed to be repaired. At least now she would have the time to see it done properly.

“I’d rather stay here,” she said. “Who will you assign to lead the Trans-Siberian?”

“Howard Shipley has agreed to take it on.”

She flinched. It hurt to realize that she had already been replaced. There was nothing wrong with Howard Shipley. He had wide-ranging experience in the transportation industry and understood the requirements for financing large-scale engineering projects. She only wished . . .

Well, it didn’t matter what she wished. She smoothed all emotion from her expression and faced her father squarely. “I would be happy to meet with him to go over the files and be sure he understands the timetables for the various segments.”

Oscar looked uncomfortable. “We’ve already transferred those files from your office. Go ahead and see him today if you wish, but going forward, he won’t need any assistance.”

She shook her head. This was a massive project, and the timetables became erratic depending on the season. The scheduling demanded flexibility, and she needed to warn Howard about them—

“Natalia.” Her father’s voice interrupted the cascade of thoughts. His face was full of compassion, but she didn’t want to see it. It was essential that Howard Shipley understand the project he was about to inherit. She wasn’t in charge anymore, but she still loved that railroad.

She opened her mouth to make her case, but Oscar interrupted her.

“Natalia, go home,” he said gently. “Figure out what you’re going to do with the next phase of your life. There is no place for you at the bank anymore.”

It would have been easier if he’d been angry, but every word he spoke ached with sorrow. If he’d been angry, it would have stoked her to fight against these unjust charges, but his pity meant that he already knew and understood. She was about to lose the work that gave her life meaning. On the day the Trans-Siberian Railway was completed, there would be someone else at the helm.

She had always known this could happen. Her father couldn’t even help her get a position somewhere else, since no bank could risk their reputation by employing her.

A tap on the door interrupted her thoughts, and the secretary tipped his head inside. “Miss Felicity and your son are here.”

Her father’s expression momentarily brightened, but he quickly hid it. “Excellent. Send them in, please.”

Alexander’s nanny wheeled the baby buggy inside. Alexander was already sitting up, and he reached out his arms the moment he saw Oscar.

Her father leaned down to lift the boy. It was impossible not to smile at her brother’s delight as he basked in Oscar’s attention. The cuddling would continue for a few more minutes, and then the boy would be consigned to his playpen in the corner.

As he grew older, she hoped Alexander would come to love this place as much as she had. She hoped he would become her father’s protégé, the sort Oscar had always wanted. She had once looked forward to helping Alexander learn the ropes at the bank, but that was just another foiled dream.

It was time to leave.



Dimitri read the morning newspapers with appalled confusion. The articles about the Amur praised him to the skies, but the same newspapers slaughtered Natalia. At best she was branded an indulged heiress whose ignorance of the world meant she couldn’t spot a catastrophe that happened on her project. At worst they accused her of blithely disregarding the atrocity in the interest of profit.

He sat at the table in the breakfast room, thrumming his fingers on the table as he read the last of the newspapers. Oscar had departed for the bank before sunrise, but Poppy was still here, adding a stream of unhelpful commentary.

“I always warned Oscar that Natalia’s interest in the bank was unnatural and would get her into trouble eventually,” she said. “No one likes a woman who is too mannish.”