I missed you.” Though Chauncey smiled as he entered the parlor and took the seat she’d indicated, Eugenia felt a shiver snake its way down her spine. Perhaps she was being fanciful, but the expression in his eyes reminded her of a man she’d seen in an art museum back east. The man had been staring at a Rembrandt painting, and she’d heard him mutter, “I’d do anything to own that.”
She forced herself to smile as Chauncey continued speaking. “New York, Philadelphia, and Boston are great cities, but they seemed empty without you. I missed you,” he said again.
Eugenia wouldn’t lie and say that she’d missed him, but she knew she needed to say something. After all, this was the man Papa wanted her to marry. “I’m glad your trip was a success. Papa told me how pleased he is with all you accomplished.” While he’d been gone, Chauncey had sent lengthy weekly letters detailing the progress of his negotiations.
“It’s an honor to help him. I feel like we’re already partners, even though it won’t be official until you and I marry.”
Partners. This was the first Eugenia had heard of that. “Papa didn’t mention making you a partner.”
“There’s no reason he should have. It’s between us men.”
Eugenia tried her best not to bristle. Mason would never have said anything like that. Mason respected women. He was kind. He was fair. He was as close to perfect as Eugenia could imagine. If only he loved her. But he did not.
Mason came to the house each morning after breakfast and escorted her to the depot. Once they checked the progress and she documented the day in at least one photograph, he escorted her back home, all the while being unfailingly polite. If she’d only just met him, Eugenia knew she’d be content with the way he treated her, but they weren’t new acquaintances, and she could not forget the kiss they’d shared. The wonderful, unforgettable kiss that Mason obviously regretted.
There was nothing to be gained by pining over him. Whatever had been between them was gone. Eugenia fixed a smile on her face as she turned to Chauncey. “Will you stay for supper? I’m sure Papa will want to hear all about your trip.”
Chauncey nodded. “I’d never turn down the opportunity to be with you and your father.”
Rising, Eugenia said, “I’ll let Cook know there’ll be four for supper.”
“Four?” Chauncey’s eyebrows rose, and Eugenia thought she saw a hint of satisfaction in his expression. “Does that mean that journalist left town?”
“No, but he doesn’t live here anymore.”
This time there was no doubt about it. Chauncey was pleased. “Good. Very good.”
But it wasn’t.
“It’s been more difficult than I thought possible,” Mason told the man who walked slowly at his side. When he’d entered the bakery, Jeremy had taken one look at him and suggested they go for a walk. It was only when they were outside and would not be overheard that Jeremy had asked him what was wrong.
“I do everything I can to act as if we’re simply colleagues, but what I want is to sweep her into my arms and beg her to marry me.”
“Why don’t you do that?” Jeremy asked. “You told me once you believed Eugenia returned your feelings.”
It was true that in the weeks since he’d moved out of the Bell mansion Mason had caught Eugenia regarding him with something that looked like longing. The emotion was easy to recognize, for he saw it each morning when he gazed at his reflection while shaving.
“I have nothing to offer her, at least not compared to Chauncey Keaton. He can give her the life she deserves. And, even if he couldn’t, he’s the man her father wants her to marry. I’m just the man hired to write a commemorative book.”
Jeremy paused at the street corner to let a carriage pass them. “Will Chauncey make her happy?”
It was a question Mason had asked himself countless times. “I hope so. When I see them together, she’s always smiling.” Admittedly, it wasn’t the way she’d smiled at Mason while they’d danced, but it was a smile.
Jeremy did not appear impressed. “I imagine you’re smiling then, too.”
“Of course. That’s what one does at events like those.”
“But you’re not smiling on the inside.”
“That’s true.”
“Maybe Eugenia is doing the same thing you are and is putting on a brave front.” Jeremy was silent for a moment, perhaps wanting Mason to consider what he’d said. “Don’t you think you owe it to yourself and Eugenia to find out how she really feels?” His lips thinned. “I wasn’t sure Esther loved me, but I also knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life without telling her of my love.”
And look where that had brought him. Esther and Jeremy were one of the happiest couples Mason had ever seen. “How did you get to be so wise?” he asked his friend.
“Me, wise?” Jeremy laughed. “If I have any wisdom, it’s come with age and many hours of prayer. So, are you going to talk to Eugenia?”
“I want to, but first I need to ask for her father’s permission. I don’t know whether he’ll agree. To be honest, Jeremy, I doubt he will, but you’re right. I have to try, and the timing has to be right.” Mason paused, reflecting on how important timing was. “Erastus is preoccupied with the cornerstone ceremony right now. Whenever I see him, it’s the only thing he talks about. My best chance of getting him to agree is to wait until the cornerstone is laid.”
Though Jeremy had started to nod, he stopped and raised his eyebrows again. “That’sa month from now. Are you sure you want to wait?”
“No, I don’t want to wait. Not a single minute. But I need to.”
It was an excuse, Eugenia admitted to herself as she left the house and headed south on Ferguson. Chances were that Mason didn’t need the page that had somehow slipped out of his notebook this morning, but returning it would give her an opportunity to see him again. That was why she was walking more quickly than usual, rather than strolling and admiring the stores she passed.
Her pace did not slow when she reached Madame Charlotte’s dress shop. Though Aunt Louisa had urged her to look at the modiste’s designs for wedding gowns, Eugenia had not. No matter how often Papa sang Chauncey’s praises, no matter how many gifts Chauncey brought her and how many compliments he lavished on her, Eugenia knew she wasn’t ready to marry him.
If she agreed, both Papa and Chauncey would be happy, but every time Eugenia thought of marrying Chauncey, she shivered. She couldn’t explain why she shrank from the very idea, why it filled her with foreboding. It was foolish, for surely there was no reason to fear Chauncey.
When she reached the corner of Fifteenth Street and turned west, Eugenia’s mood lightened. The boardinghouse where Mason lived was only a few yards away. Soon she’d see him, and even if it was only for a moment or two, those moments would brighten her afternoon.
What did not brighten her day was the neighborhood. Why had Mason moved here? Though the boardinghouse was only six blocks from her home, the area was so different that it could have been in another city. This was a less prosperous part of Cheyenne, the buildings poorly cared for, an area that lacked trees and plants but had saloons and a brothel on the next block. Papa called the neighborhood seedy. Eugenia called it sad.
Though the street was almost deserted, her eyes widened when she saw a well-dressed man talking to a woman whose clothing was little more than rags. The man had his back to her, but as Eugenia watched, he slapped the woman, the blow so fierce that she slumped to the ground. An instant later, he began to kick her.
“Stop that!” Eugenia cried, rushing toward the woman. She knew she couldn’t overpower the man, but somehow she had to stop him from inflicting more harm. Oh, how could he do something so heinous? What kind of a man would kick a poor woman?
“Stop that!” she shouted again. This time the man turned, and Eugenia’s shock turned to horror. “Chauncey?” Surely it couldn’t be, but it was. Though his face was distorted by fury and a scowl, this was indeed Chauncey.
The man Eugenia’s father wanted her to marry took a step toward her. “What are you doing here?” He tried to modulate it, but she heard the anger in his voice. The question was, was he angry that she was near Mason’s boardinghouse or that she’d seen him mistreating the woman?
“Why I’m here doesn’t matter. The question is, why were you attacking that poor woman?” Eugenia looked around, but the battered woman was nowhere to be seen. She must have taken advantage of Chauncey’s distraction and slipped into the alley.
Chauncey came closer, his expression once more serene. It was almost as if he’dslipped on a mask to cover his fury. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was merely protecting myself. That woman tried to rob me.”
Lies. All lies. Eugenia had seen him approach the woman, not the other way around. “You’re lying, Chauncey. I don’t know what you two said to each other, but there’s no way you can justify hurting her.”
As he took another step toward Eugenia, Chauncey’s expression changed, and this time she saw concern reflecting from his eyes. Concern but no remorse. Was this the reason she’d felt a frisson of fear every time she thought of marrying him? Perhaps she’d been led here to prevent her from making a huge mistake.
“I know what I saw,” she said firmly, “and what I saw tells me you’re not a man I want to marry.” No matter what Papa said, she would not agree to marry someone who treated the poor and unfortunate with such cruelty.
Though she sensed that he was trying to hide it, Eugenia saw alarm in Chauncey’s expression. “Don’t be hasty, Eugenia,” he said, his voice huskier than normal. “Won’t you give me a second chance?”
She shook her head as the memory of his kicking the poor woman filled her with horror. “I can’t forget what I saw.”
Chauncey came so close that she could smell the Macassar oil he used on his hair. “Can you forgive me?” Before Eugenia could respond, he continued. “Jesus told us to forgive seventy times seven.”
That was true, but it wasn’t that simple. “I’m not the one you should be asking for forgiveness. It’s the woman you hurt.”
Nodding as if he agreed, Chauncey said, “I’ll find her. I’ll make everything right with her. I’ll give her money for clothes, and I’ll get her a room in a boardinghouse so she has a place to eat and sleep. Please, Eugenia, give me a second chance. Don’t disappoint your father.”
Eugenia was silent for a moment, considering what the announcement that she would never marry Chauncey would mean to Papa. Though he tried to make light of it, she knew how concerned her father was that something might go wrong during the cornerstone ceremony. He spent hours each day trying to be certain every detail was covered. How could she add to his worries? And then there was Chauncey himself. Though Eugenia didn’t expect to change her mind about marrying him, everyone deserved the opportunity to change.
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she formulated her response. “All right, Chauncey. I won’t say anything to Papa until after the cornerstone is laid.”