The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper Part 13

"One room for the night, please," she said when her turn before the clerk arrived.

He was tall and thin, putting her in mind of a scarecrow with spectacles as he looked over the gold rims and down at her. "Next," he said to the person behind her.

"Excuse me?" She shouldered back in front of the well-dressed couple and placed her palms on the counter. "Perhaps you misunderstood. I am here to secure a room for the night."

"There's no misunderstanding," he said in a less-than-polite tone. "We're a reputable hotel and you-alone, with no luggage-obviously are not."

"I beg your pardon?"

Once again, he looked beyond Gennie. His eyes narrowed, and he gestured for a porter. "Remove that man at once."

The porter's face paled, and he whispered something to the clerk. Gennie looked around to see a cowboy ambling toward them.

"I don't care who he is. Tell him he can start his own hotel, but he certainly isn't welcome in this one dressed like that." The clerk returned his attention to Gennie. "And you, miss-"

She squared her shoulders. "Sir, in all my travels, I've never come upon such a rude hotelier."

His eyes narrowed. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me." Gennie pointed her finger at the loathsome man, then took what she hoped would be a calming breath. It did not work. "I learned early on to be civil to those in the trade. However, you are making it most difficult."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," she said slowly, "that is so."

The clerk put on a wide smile and rested his hands on his hips. "Perhaps I can make it simpler for you." He summoned the porter again. "Escort this woman out, please. If she attempts to return, see that she suffers the same fate as the cowboy." He looked past her yet again. "Next!"

Gennie stumbled away, stung, and with each step she took toward the exit, her anger grew. By the time she reached the lovely front doors, she was ready to go back to the desk and confront the imperious autocrat.

"Don't bother, hon."

She turned to see the fellow in rugged western gear standing just outside the door. Crossing the threshold, she emerged onto the street and into the jovial company of a man who identified himself only as Brown.

"One of these days there'll be a place for people like us."

Gennie decided that whatever "people" he referred to, they must be much nicer than the ones who populated the registration desk at the Windsor Hotel.

"He's not a bad fellow," Brown said, "nor is this a bad place. The opposite, actually."

She looked back at the lovely awnings, the inviting shops, and the beautiful interior, and imagined the guest rooms were just as wonderful. Her tired body sagged.

The man adjusted his Stetson and offered a firm handshake of farewell. "When I open my hotel, I'll send you an engraved invitation."

Gennie couldn't help but smile at the absurd statement. "Yes, please do."

He pulled a pad of paper from his shirt pocket. "What's your name, miss, and how do I find you?"

"Eugenia Flora Cooper. How to find me? That's a bit more complicated."

"She's currently staying at the Beck mansion as governess. That is correct, isn't it? You're Charlotte Beck's new governess?"

Turning to see who spoke, Gennie saw a lovely brunette standing a few feet away. With her was an older lady who must have been her mother. The pair exchanged words, and with a flutter of her gloved hand, the older woman disappeared inside the Windsor.

"I am," Gennie answered, "at least temporarily."

"I'm Anna Finch," the woman said as she approached. "I live next door to Mr. Beck."

Brown looked up from his notepad. "Anna Finch," he said. "Yes, I know your pa. Fine man. On the list for sure." And with that, he bade them good-bye and ambled away.

"Interesting fellow," Gennie said when the man disappeared around the corner. "And a very nice man."

"Yes. Papa speaks highly of Mr. Brown. He's quite the entrepreneur." The dark-haired woman smiled. "Eugenia, it's so nice to meet you."

"Please call me Gennie. Only the empress calls me Eugenia, and I suspect she's teasing me when she does."

Anna Finch looked at her as if she'd grown a third eye in the middle of her forehead.

"She's a family friend," Gennie explained. "Mama and Papa visited her often, and when I was born...well, they liked the name, I suppose."

Anna shook her head. "Gennie, are you referring to Empress Eugenia, the wife of Napoleon III?"

"Yes. Do you know her?"

"Not exactly, though who hasn't heard of her?" Anna paused to give Gennie an odd look. "How does a woman whose parents know royalty end up as a nanny in Denver?"

"The truth?" Gennie leaned close. "I wanted a Wild West adventure."

Anna laughed. "You'll certainly have that at the Beck house."

Gennie shrugged. "I'd hoped for more." And then she thought of the man at the dry goods store. Flirting with a stranger certainly wasn't like her, so perhaps her Wild West adventure had already begun. By degrees, she became aware of the Finch woman speaking.

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"Ours is the house on the left on the other side of the shrubs. The big house with the..." Anna shook her head. "Oh, it doesn't matter. Suffice it to say I'm so close to Daniel's house, I can see his window from mine." Immediately her hand covered her gaping mouth, and her cheeks blazed bright red. "Oh, I didn't mean it that way. What I meant was-"

The poor woman seemed truly distressed. "It's all right, truly." Gennie touched her sleeve. "I knew what you meant."

"You did?" The relief in Anna's voice was unmistakable. "Honestly? Because people rarely understand me. That is," she quickly corrected, "I rarely seem to make myself understandable. "

Gennie's smile was genuine. "Perhaps that's just the way of things." She shrugged. "I've found that it is often when we try the least, we are understood the most."

Anna's brown eyes widened. "Goodness, you're quite profound for a governess." Again embarra.s.sment etched itself across her lovely features. "Oh, there I go again. There's nothing wrong with being a governess. It's just that one rarely expects a person in that profession to..." She paused and looked ready to cry. "Oh, I'm just hopeless."

Comforting a stranger on a public street seemed a bit odd, but after only a few minutes, Gennie felt as though she'd known Anna Finch all her life. In fact, she'd spent much of her life being just like her.

"Thank you," Anna said as she dabbed at her eyes with a lovely handkerchief, obviously grateful for someone who understood. "I'm very glad to have made your acquaintance."

"As am I," Gennie said.

The hotel doors opened and Mrs. Finch appeared. "Do come inside, Anna," she said. "We must take our chairs for the oratorical performance."

"Coming, Mother." Anna turned to Gennie. "Oh my, I didn't ask. Are you here with Daniel-I mean, Mr. Beck? He mentioned he'd be otherwise detained with his daughter, but I had hoped, that is..."

"I'm quite alone," Gennie said.

"Do come and sit with Mother and me, then. I understand the performance will be riveting."

Gennie noticed the porter staring through the open door and imagined what might happen should she dare to return to the Windsor's lobby, even in the company of Anna Finch. "Much as I appreciate the invitation, I'm afraid I must decline."

"Oh, I see. You must have promised to play charades with Mr. Beck and Charlotte."

"Charades?" She already felt as if she'd been playing the game of hidden ident.i.ty since she set foot on Colorado soil.

Anna giggled. "Oh, I have the best idea. Wait here."

She disappeared inside to carry on a somewhat spirited conversation with her mother, who'd drifted near the doorway. After much nodding and speaking behind gloved hands, Anna turned on her heels and marched back outside, the pink in her cheeks flaming bright.

"Everything all right?" Gennie asked as she watched the older woman storm off in what was obviously a huff.

"Yes," Anna said, "everything's fine." She put on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll have my driver drop us at the Beck home. I haven't played charades in ever so long."

Torn between the quick and easy ride back to the Becks' and the need to send Hester's telegram, Gennie froze. Her absence might have been noticed by now, and that would require an explanation. At least she hadn't left the note she'd thought about leaving. It made returning, even temporarily, much easier than begging for a job she'd abandoned.

She was still thinking when Anna touched her shoulder.

"I've already told you I'm hopeless when it comes to saying the right thing, Gennie, so please don't take offense."

"I won't."

"Your dress," Anna said. "It's a bit, well, I wonder if perhaps you'd... That is, we're much the same size and I have extra..." An exasperated look crossed her face. "Oh, what I'm trying to say is that the dress doesn't fit that well, and you're much too pretty to walk around like that. Maybe I could help."

Gennie looked down at the store-bought dress. It didn't fit as well as her tailored gowns, of course, but it was the best she could find in Fisher's. "Oh no, I couldn't ask that of you."

"You're not asking," she said. "I'm offering."

Gennie tried not to be horrified that she was considering accepting a stranger's charity. Mama would be horrified enough for the both of them. Slowly, she warmed to the idea, however. "You see, my trunk was left behind in New York, so I've only got the clothes I wore on the train." She shook her head. "That's not true. Those seem to have gone missing."

"You poor dear."

"And then Tova shopped for me." Gennie paused. "Suffice it to say our tastes differ. I managed to find this in the dry goods store."

"I see." Anna waved her hand, and a liveried man jumped to attention. In a matter of minutes, Gennie found herself transported to the Finch home by way of the telegraph office, where Anna's closet practically emptied itself at her feet.

"I couldn't, honestly," Gennie said as yet another lovely gown was offered up.

Anna turned, a silk Shantung wrap dangling from her right hand. "Oh goodness, I've done it again. I never intended to embarra.s.s you." She let the lovely garment fall to the floor. "I only meant to help. Forgive me. I tend to be a bit, well, overenthusiastic."

Gennie retrieved the Shantung wrap and handed it back to Anna. "Truly, you are an answer to prayer. I'm waiting for a telegram from my friend in New York, and then hopefully I can pay you for some of the beautiful things you've offered."

"Pay? Oh, pish posh. You'll do nothing of the sort." Anna waved away Gennie's offer with a sweep of her hand. "I'm the youngest of five girls. Even though all my sisters are married, Papa's still budgeting for five wardrobes every season." She pointed to the room-sized closet that would have been a luxury even in Manhattan. "You see the results."

"I do." Gennie grinned. "And as your new friend, I'm happy to help you with this problem."

Anna flopped down on the nearest chair, her grin slipping. "If only my other problem were so simple to repair."

Gennie shrugged into a pink-striped dress very much like one she'd left hanging in her closet back home. "I'll help if I can."

"Oh, Gennie, I'm going to be totally honest with you." Anna scooped up a ruffled and lace-covered ball gown and held it to her chest. Her fingers worried with the hemline, then abruptly stopped. "There's no help for this. You see, I'm hopelessly in love with Daniel Beck. When I found you standing outside the Windsor, I recognized you immediately. I'm ashamed to admit I thought to befriend you in order to get closer to him."

"Anna," Gennie said gently, "does he return this affection you have for him?"

Anna's brown eyes glistened as they met Gennie's gaze. "He barely notices I'm alive."

A plan began to form, and it was all Gennie could do not to smile despite her new friend's sad state. "Do you like children?" she asked, plotting her course.

"Oh yes. I love children."

"Even if they are, at times, difficult?"

Her new friend smiled. "You're referring to Charlotte."

"I am."

"I know she's a challenge, but I wish you could have known her when she and her mother first came to live with Daniel. She was no bigger than a minute. Cook said she might have been five, though she looked much younger."

Gennie's interest piqued. "What happened to her mother?"

"Oh, that's such a sad story." Anna rose and walked to the window. True to her statement, Gennie could see the Beck house above the hedges. "I never knew for sure, but Mr. Beck's housekeeper told our cook that Mrs. Beck had been living in England but came to Denver to take the air."

"Take the air?"

Anna turned and nodded. "It is believed the Colorado air has curative properties. Charlotte's mother was quite ill when she arrived here, and she lasted less than a year. Daniel was devastated."

"She went back to England?"

"No," Anna said, her voice cracking. "She died. Charlotte had only just met her father, and suddenly he was all she had. Well, him and Elias. Soon after, I believe, they brought Tova and Isak in to help."

"That poor child." It went a long way toward explaining why Charlotte was so difficult, a motherless child in a strange land. "That sort of trauma must be hard to overcome."

"For both of them, I'm sure," Anna said. "I've always wondered how it must have felt for Daniel when a long-lost wife and a child he didn't know he had suddenly arrived on his doorstep. Cook says he had no idea Georgiana was with child when he left England. Something about a mysterious falling out between him and his father and brother."

"Really?" Gennie longed to ask more but held her tongue.

Anna nodded, then gestured to the door. "I'll have Thames drop off a trunk full of clothing with Tova in the morning. The others you can put in this satchel." Anna lifted a small traveling case from beneath a pile of clothing in the corner of her closet and handed it to Gennie. "For now, I should get you back to the Becks. I'm sure they're wondering where you went." She shook her head. "Wait, of course they're not. You were at the Windsor and changed your mind about attending the performance. They'll likely not expect you for another hour or so."

"All the better to surprise them," Gennie said with an enthusiasm she did not feel.

Truthfully, she was not looking forward to the confrontation with Charlotte's absent father, but Anna seemed quite anxious to pay a visit to the Beck home. So much so that she had the driver drop them at the curb in front of the Beck home on his way back to the Windsor rather than spend the extra few minutes it would take to walk.