The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper (42 page)

At least Chandler seemed to have kept the trip just that—secret. Surely if Mama or Papa knew, they would’ve given away some hint of it by now. But then, Chandler was likely afraid he’d lose her if he told. What he didn’t realize was he’d lost her the moment the door of Fisher’s knocked her on the floor.

Gennie blinked hard as the ever-present tears threatened again. Some days she missed Denver and those she loved so much it hurt to breathe. Other days, it was merely excruciating.

To make matters worse, she highly expected Chandler would use tonight’s event to announce their engagement. He’d been more than accommodating when she put him off each time he tried to discuss the matter, but just yesterday afternoon, he and Papa spent an inordinate amount of time closeted away in Papa’s library. Then they left together, only to return some hours later, chattering uncharacteristically.

Something was in the works. The thought of it made her positively sick. And yet, what could she say? She couldn’t marry him because she was still in love with Daniel Beck?

Gennie threw open the windows to let fresh air in, and along with it came the sounds and smells of Manhattan. While the sun was setting, there was no sunset to be seen beyond the buildings and no trees to sway in the breeze, save the few sparse ones planted on the esplanade.

It made her miss Colorado even more.

But she’d had her Wild West adventure, and now it was time to do the next thing. The dutiful thing.

Daniel, you idiot. Where are you tonight?

“It’s time to get dressed, miss,” her maid said. “Might you need assistance with your gown?”

Gennie nodded at Fiona, then allowed the maid to do the work of preparing her for yet another night out in Manhattan. She stared at the stranger in the mirror, watching her be painted, powdered, and primped into the woman who would surely be asked to join the Dodd family tonight.

When Fiona was done, Gennie reached past the more expensive perfumes to retrieve a small, nearly empty bottle. While the maid disappeared into the closet, she dabbed the rose-scented fragrance on her wrists, behind her ears, and at the base of her throat.

“Now for the dress,” Fiona said with more enthusiasm than necessary. She brought out the frock, a freshly arrived House of Worth creation designed by Charles Frederick Worth himself and accompanied by a note stating the creation was sent with highest regards from their mutual friend Empress Eugenia.

“And it’s silver.” Gennie’s laugh sounded hollow, even to herself. “How ironic.”

Though the party was just across the street, Chandler insisted he
escort her. “I assure you I’ll not get lost,” Gennie told him as he offered her his arm to cross the street. Instantly she regretted her ill humor. It wasn’t Chandler’s fault she was thus affected.

Gennie swung him a sideways glance. “Actually, it is.”

“Is what?”

“Never mind.” She shook her head and offered her wrap to the Vanowens’ houseman. “Do forgive me, Chandler. I’m being insufferable tonight.”

Chandler pulled her to a stop in an alcove beneath the wide staircase.
Oh no. Not now. Not here.

“Miss Cooper, I’ve respected your request not to discuss what happened in Denver.”

She looked around, certain someone would hear.

“Look at me.” When she complied, he continued. “As you know, I’ve spent a considerable amount of time with your father of late.” A group of partygoers climbed the stairs behind them, and Chandler grew silent until they were gone. “It has not escaped his attention that you’ve been a bit, well, subdued since their return from the Continent.”

He paused and looked at her as if he expected some sort of acknowledgment, or perhaps an explanation. She gave him a nod and nothing else.

“I just want to say that I hope tonight will change all of that. It may be hard for you to believe, but your happiness is paramount to me.” He paused. “That’s why I’ve done what I could to facilitate the events of this evening.”

“I see.” Her heart sank. So tonight was indeed the night.

He ducked his head. “Just remember, it is because I love you that I’ve helped with certain things.” He paused. “Know your happiness will always be my priority.”

“Thank you,” she managed, and she had no doubt he spoke the truth. Indeed, the man had been attentive to a fault, as well as kind and patient.

He just wasn’t someone she could love.

Now all she had to do was figure out how to turn him down when he asked for her hand.

The sound of music and voices drew near, and Gennie fought the urge to turn and go home. Fiona had just fetched the latest adventures of Mae Winslow—rumored to be the last—and she longed to climb under her blankets and live through the Woman of the West just one more time.

Gennie paused at the top of the stairs to await the announcement of her name, then joined the others in a long receiving line. She gave but a cursory greeting to Hester, then moved on to Mrs. Vanowen, who embraced her heartily, then held her at arm’s length and perused her carefully over the top of her bejeweled spectacles.

“You look lovely, darling,” she said. “That must be the Worth the empress wrote me about. I’d imagined it as beautiful, but on you it’s absolutely stunning.”

Nodding, Gennie participated in the inane chatter one expected in these situations until the line moved her on. Since childhood, Mr. Vanowen had put her in mind of a walrus. From his tusk-like mustache to his portly frame, he’d been the least of all adults she’d expected to hold such power. Rather, he seemed a genial and truly funny fellow.

“Might I present the seventh Earl of Framingham?” he said in an official-sounding voice.

Gennie turned to greet the nobleman, and her smile wavered. Sandy hair threaded with silver and busy brows of the same color framed a face that seemed at once familiar and kind. When he reached to take her hands in his, they trembled.

“So you are Eugenia,” he said.

She nodded, unsure what else to say.

“We’ve called her Gennie as long as she’s been old enough to answer,” Mr. Vanowen said.

“Gennie, it is,” the earl said, still holding tight to her hands. “Might we visit more later? I warrant there’s much we could find to discuss.”

“Yes, of course,” Gennie said. “That would be lovely.”

He smiled and released her to turn to Chandler. Rather than wait, Gennie made her way toward Mama and Papa, who sat at a table near the dais. Mama practically bubbled with happiness, likely at her inclusion on the lofty Vanowen guest list.

“All right, Papa,” Gennie said as she seated herself beside her father. “What’s going on? You look positively touched with the mysterious.”

“Touched with the mysterious.” He grinned. “From your favorite fairy tale.”

“Gennie!” A child’s squeal, and a familiar one at that.

Gennie turned to see Charlotte Beck racing toward her, and rose. “Oh, my baby girl!” She enveloped the girl in a hug as tears clouded her vision. “I’ve missed you so. But what are you doing here?”

By degrees, she became aware of the fact that if Charlotte were here, likely so was her father.

Or perhaps not. The girl was practically eleven, and she’d mentioned on more than one occasion that without a governess, she’d be sent to finishing school. Had Daniel sent her to New York, where she’d somehow ended up at the Vanowen soiree? There was only one way to find out.

She held the girl at arm’s length. “You look absolutely grown up tonight, sweetheart. Are you here with friends?”

“Not exactly,” said a male voice behind her.

Gennie froze. Daniel.

“Turn around.”

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

Charlotte giggled and did the work for her, turning Gennie until she faced Daniel Beck.

“Daniel,” slipped from her tongue, but nothing else would come.

He went past her to where her parents sat, and greeted them. Papa rose to slap Daniel on the back like a long lost friend. The silver baron then kissed Mama’s hand, making her blush.

“Do you know one another?” Gennie asked.

Chandler came to stand beside her. “I facilitated an introduction,” he said. “I thought it best under the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?”

Charlotte pulled Gennie down and whispered in her ear. “He loves you. Go get him.”

Daniel moved toward her, and their gazes collided as he accepted a handshake from Chandler. Gennie felt Daniel capture her wrist. “I’d deserve it if you walked away.”

“I couldn’t if I tried,” she responded.

His smile was glorious, even when he looked back to her parents. “Might I borrow your daughter for a moment, sir?” He winked at Charlotte. “Perhaps you should go and see what trouble Grandfather is getting into. When I left him, he was eying the pie.”

The girl scampered away to wrap her arms around the Earl of Framingham.

“That’s your father?” Gennie asked.

Daniel shrugged. “He hasn’t been for many years, but I’m happy to say he is now.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’ve missed you, Gennie.”

She wanted to tell him how very much she too had missed him, but this was information he’d neither wanted then nor needed now.

“What brings you to the Vanowen party tonight?” she asked instead.

“Among other things, you,” he said. “You left a few things undone
in Denver, and I thought now might be a good time to take care of them.”

Business? He’d come to discuss business with her? She tried to hide her disappointment by greeting those whom she recognized as she followed Daniel from the room. At the edge of the crowd, her conscience plagued her and she called for Daniel to wait. Then she saw he was limping.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I fell off a train,” was his ludicrous response.

He guided her away from the busy ballroom and out onto the roof terrace. The skies were fading from orange to purple, and the first stars twinkled above the silver crescent moon. The scent of roses from Mrs. Vanowen’s expansive garden perfumed the night and carpeted both sides of a path lit with gaslights and paved in marble.

“Daniel, what sort of business are we possibly going to take care of out here?”

“The kind I was too stupid and proud to take care of back in Denver.” He shook his head. “That’s not completely true. I did try, but when I fell off that train, I figured the Lord was trying to tell me to leave you alone.” He paused to touch a climbing rose. “Turns out He was just telling me to hang on tighter.”

Daniel searched her face to see if Gennie caught the dual meaning. If she did, she gave no indication.

Instead, she walked to the railing and looked out over the buildings, her own home included. He knew where she lived, even knew which window was hers. He could thank Jeb Sanders for that information.

The Pinkerton was not only good at his job, but over the last two months, he’d become a friend. In his status as an undercover agent, he’d also proven to be a good right-hand man for Hiram, who’d taken over the Leadville mines. Sanders provided updates through his New York
colleagues of the comings and goings of Gennie Cooper. When the Pinkerton informed him Chandler Dodd had made a purchase at Tiffany and Company, Daniel knew action was required.

What sort of action took a few weeks to decide. Elias claimed it was his hard head, but Daniel knew it was his wounded heart.

He hadn’t counted on the fact that Chandler knew before he did that Gennie was not meant to be Chandler’s wife. While he’d hoped for Mr. Cooper’s blessing, he hadn’t counted on Chandler’s giving up so easily.

Daniel would have fought to the death to keep Gennie.

“You resemble your father,” she said, jarring his attention.

“I suppose I do, a little.”

She turned and the dying rays of the sun spun gold into her hair, putting him in mind of their last afternoon together in his library. “And it appears he and Charlotte get along fabulously.”

“Yes, the trip to England was a blessing in disguise.” He paused to take in the sight of her and cursed himself for letting her go.

“Oh?” She shook her head. “I thought he was coming to Denver.”

“The plans changed when his health wouldn’t permit him to make the voyage. Charlotte insisted I make the overture and offer to bring her there.” He moved to stand beside her at the rail. “I don’t want to talk about Charlotte or my father or anything other than the reason I asked for a few minutes of your time.”

“Of course.” She rested her arms on the rail and studied her nails. “I’m sorry.”

“Gennie?” Daniel placed his palm on her back. It fit just as he remembered. She straightened and seemed to be holding her breath. He moved closer, sliding his palms around to flatten his hands across her waist. “Breathe, Gennie,” he whispered against the back of her neck. “Just breathe.” He waited until he felt her relax. “Now turn around,” he
said, his lips brushing the base of her neck. “I need you to be looking at me when I say this.”

She turned in his arms and looked up at him, and he almost forgot how to speak.

“I love you. I think I’ve loved you since you landed on the floor of Fisher’s. I know I loved you when I saw you clomping around in those boots.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “Then why didn’t you stop me, Daniel? Why did you just let me leave?” She shook her head. “No, you
told
me to leave.”

“I was wrong.”

“That’s it? That’s the business you came to discuss with me? Two months after you ordered me out of your home, you want to tell me you love me?”

Daniel shook his head. “No, that’s not all.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket. “We’re married.”

“That’s the marriage license from Leadville. It wasn’t…”

The former governess let out a long breath and sagged against the rail. Much as Daniel wanted to scoop her into his arms and hold her, he let her think it through, let her logic it out and see if she came to the same conclusion he had.

While she did, he prayed.

“It was real.”

He nodded. “Gennie, I tried to come after you. I rode Blossom all the way to Jackrabbit Creek just so I could catch that train. I’m lucky the water wasn’t any lower in the creek, or you’d be a rich widow.” He looked away. “All right, that was a bad joke.”