Mr. Broadcreek coughed. “That is a lot for a young lady like yourself to accomplish alone. I could help you. It isn’t as though I don’t know my way around the railroad business.”

Diana knew what he would want in exchange for his help—marriage. This was an even cheaper option for obtaining a railroad company than buying it for less than its value. But a middle-aged bachelor with only Diana’s railroad company on his mind was the last type of man she would choose to marry. Only the husband could sign for a married woman after the vows were said, even if the company would technically belong to both of them. Mr. Broadcreek would never honor her agreement with Charlotte, which would most definitely make a swindler out of Diana.

“I’ve been running Richardson Rail for nearly a month now, and most of Barton Rail for several months before that. I’m quite certain I can manage.”

“Are you positive?” Mr. Broadcreek pulled out a pocket watch and pursed his lips together. “Didn’t you need to place an order for ballast today?”

Diana’s heart stopped. Her eyes flew to her own watch, safe in the drawer, but it had only been a few minutes since she last checked. She still had an hour—plenty of time as long as Mr. Broadcreek left soon. “I do. In fact, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our conversation short so Mrs. Oliver and I can do that now.”

Diana stood, and Mr. Broadcreek, ever the gentleman in all the ways that didn’t matter, followed suit. Diana walked to the coatrack by the front of her office and reached for her cloak. Mrs. Oliver was tidying up her desk in order to leave for the day. Mr. Broadcreek put his meaty hands out to help Diana with her cloak, but she pretended not to notice.

He lowered his hands. “London Ballast & Company closed an hour ago.”

Diana pulled her bonnet off the rack with more force than necessary. He couldn’t be right. The ballast office closed at six. Mr. Broadcreek had wasted hours of her time on multiple occasions, but she had never let it impact a deadline. She simply stayed later until she got everything done. When all of London was watching and waiting for her to fail, there was no room for error. “I believe you must have the time wrong. It is not yet five o’clock.”

“It isn’t the time that is your problem; it is the day.”

Mr. Broadcreek was making no sense.

Mrs. Oliver came up beside Diana and reached for her coat. “Thursday?”

Mr. Broadcreek kept his eyes on Diana even though Mrs. Oliver had asked the question. “Tomorrow is St. Andrew’s Day.”

St. Andrew’s Day? What did it matter if it was? “St. Andrew’s Day is a Scottish holiday. It should have nothing to do with my ballast.”

Mr. Broadcreek’s grin was growing broader with every word. “This is the reason a husband would be an asset to you, Miss Barton, especially one who does business with London Ballast. The owner, Mr. Boyd, is Scottish and proud. He always closes the shop early the day before St. Andrew’s.”