The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper (3 page)

“Well, of course she’s not a governess, girl. Who would ever consider such a ridiculous thing?” Chandler Dodd grinned as he stepped out of the carriage.

“Mr. Dodd!” Gennie stepped back in surprise. Why was Chandler in her father’s carriage?

“Good morning, Miss Cooper. My, you look fetching.”

As did he. But then Chandler Dodd always cut a dashing figure. It almost made up for the fact that his dinner conversation, generally discussions of a financial nature, was usually so bland it was all Gennie could do not to fall into the soup in a dead slumber.

Chandler lifted her hand to his lips, then began the business of ordering the help about. Rendered temporarily mute, Gennie could only watch as her trunks appeared and were loaded. By the time she found her voice, the luggage was settled and she’d been handed into the carriage to sit beside the banker. A surprised squeak let her know Fiona had been loaded as well, most likely up beside the driver.

This certainly complicated her plan and left her with a difficult choice. Should she make a scene like Mae Winslow would have done, or give up her plan? Gennie decided to try a third option: using her rusty feminine wiles.

“Really, Mr. Dodd,” she finally managed. “This isn’t necessary. You’re a busy and important man, and the train station will be crawling with persons of unknown ilk. Besides, the driver is here to assist us.” She
started to rise, but the carriage bolted forward, sending her tumbling back onto the seat. “Oh my,” she squeaked.

“I insist.” The banker’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he tipped his hat. “I promised your father I would look after you in his absence. In fact, it was for that very reason Simmons suggested I accompany you to the train station.”

Gennie grasped the seat to keep herself in place when the carriage turned the corner. “Yes, well, honestly, Mr. Dodd, I really don’t mind tending to myself today. I’ve been looking forward to visiting my destination for some time now. In fact—”

“And speaking of absences,” Chandler said as if he hadn’t heard a word except his own, “you were missed this morning at the Vanowen party.” His dark brows gathered above his nose. “Are you unwell? Your note was a bit vague.”

“Vague.” She stared out at the passing scenery until her stomach complained. “I didn’t want to burden you with a woman’s silliness.”

“Nonsense. I adore you, Eugenia. You know your father and I have spoken on more than one occasion of the great possibility that I might—”

Gennie lurched forward and began to cough, hoping to distract him. When she felt she’d accomplished her goal, she leaned back and covered the lower half of her face with her cloak.

“Forgive me,” she said through the muffling layers. “I’m so looking forward to fresh air and open spaces.”

He arched a dark brow. “In Boston?”

She was saved by a commotion outside the carriage, which temporarily directed his attention away from her. When he looked back at her, she lowered her lashes. “Forgive me,” she said again, “but would you mind terribly if I rested my eyes a moment? I’m awfully tired.”

“Of course.” He shifted positions to face her. “Rest while you can. The trip ahead is a long one.”

He had no idea.

The carriage soon arrived at the edge of what could only be called a mob scene. While the mass of people seemed intimidating, Gennie felt her courage soar. The train for Denver awaited.

“That settles it,” Chandler said. “A lady of your caliber has no place among this. There’s nothing to be done about it. You’ll just have to postpone the trip until Father can make arrangements for his rail car to be brought up.”

“No!” The force with which she made the statement stunned them both. She offered a smile and lowered her lashes again. “That is, I couldn’t bear to think of departing at a later date. That would mean our reunion would take place later rather than sooner.” She lifted her gaze and one corner of her mouth, hoping for a shy, demure expression. “And I couldn’t bear that either, Mr. Dodd.”

“Do you mean it?”

The look in Chandler’s eyes took her off guard. Had her ruse worked too well? Perhaps a bit of backtracking was in order. “I…well, that is—”

“Say no more, Miss Cooper.” He leaned forward to envelop her in an embrace and then, to her astonishment, kissed her.

Gennie blinked hard as the world tilted, then righted itself once more. “Oh my,” she managed through greatly shortened breath. “That was unexpected.”

She spoke to an empty carriage, however, for Chandler had already jumped out and busied himself with her trunks. Gennie suspected the flush in his cheeks was not from the exertion of hauling her luggage.

By the time she climbed out of the carriage, her trunk sat atop a pile of luggage beside a Boston-bound train, and Chandler Dodd stood
beside the porter with his money clip in hand. She pushed her way inside the train station. Fewer people populated the building than the platforms, and they moved about in a more orderly fashion. Still, the sounds and smells competed with the occasional roar of a train whistle to make Gennie feel genuinely less than well.

And then there was the kiss. She touched her lips with her gloved hand and closed her eyes. Chandler Dodd had certainly given her something to think about on her trip west. He’d also given her a good reason to come home once her adventure ended.

“Take care of her,” she heard the banker say. He was moving her direction.

Gennie opened her eyes. Fiona cowered at her side, her face a mask of fear. “It’s going to be fine,” Gennie whispered. “Do you see your sister?”

The maid nodded. “Over there, miss.” She pointed through the crowd. Any of several women could have been Fiona’s sister. Under the circumstances, Gennie decided not to ask which one.

She leaned toward the maid. “Go tell her what is about to happen, then wait for my signal. I’ll handle Mr. Dodd.”

Fiona’s eyes went wide. “Are you certain?”

“Go.”

Gennie watched the maid weave through the crowd and embrace a slender woman, then point in her direction. She forced her attention back on Chandler and the trunks she must retrieve once he left. He stopped by her side, the porter on his heels.

“Oh, yes sir.” The porter folded a thick wad of cash and stuffed it into his vest pocket. “Glad to do it, sir. I’d best get her seated before the train leaves without us both.”

“I’ve paid you enough to see that I get a few moments alone with Miss Cooper.” Chandler reached for Gennie’s elbow but did not quite meet her gaze. “If you’ll excuse us.”

The porter grinned and nodded as he headed for her trunks.

“Wait,” Gennie called. “Don’t take them yet.”

“But…” He looked at Chandler, who nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Gennie allowed the banker to lead her to a quiet corner, if anything in that madhouse could be called quiet. When she saw Chandler’s face, Gennie’s fear at the possibility he might kiss her again was quickly replaced by the thought he might not.

“Something wrong?” she asked. “You’re wearing a frightful expression.”

“Am I?” He shook his head, concern etching his brow, then began to pace, a difficult prospect considering the people streaming past. Finally, he stopped and stood before her. “I’ve let your father down.”

The statement stunned her, but the emotion Chandler showed surprised her more. “Whatever are you talking about, Mr. Dodd?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fiona and her sister watching them. “You’ve seen me safely to the train station. I understand completely that you must leave. You’re a busy—”

“No, you don’t understand.” Chandler grasped her shoulders and turned her toward him. “I failed to keep you safe…from myself. My behavior in the carriage was reprehensible.” He hung his head. “I don’t know what happens when I’m near you, Miss Cooper. It’s as if I take leave of my senses.”

She might have laughed had the banker not looked so distraught. Instead, she offered a genuine smile. “I assure you I have never felt as safe as I do at this moment. And if it is the kiss to which you are referring, I must warn you that offering your regrets would offend me. You’re not about to do that, are you?”

Chandler’s worried look quickly shifted to a smile as he leaned closer. “I would rather die than offend a beautiful woman such as yourself.
In fact, were we not in such a public forum, I might risk stealing another.”

Gennie touched a hand to her throat while warmth crept into her cheeks. Where had this side of the staid banker been hiding? “Why, Mr. Dodd, this is all quite unexpected.”

A train whistle blew, and the porter called for stragglers to board. Chandler loosened his grip on her shoulders and grasped her hand. “Perhaps, but I vow I shall write you daily, and until you return, I will be a miserable wretch.”

Write daily? She hadn’t considered that when making her plans. “Oh dear,” she said. “Perhaps that’s not such a good idea.”

“No?”

“No.” She inched toward the train, glancing over to indicate that Fiona should do the same. “With each letter, I’d only be reminded of what I left behind.”

He took her elbow and led her toward the porter. “Yes, but what else shall we do?”

An idea occurred, at once brilliant and devious. Surely an innocent trip to Denver would never come between them.

She paused to look up into eyes the color of freshly brewed coffee. “I propose we keep a diary of the things we do each day. When I return, we can meet again and share them together.”

Chandler looked skeptical. “You want me to write down what I do?”

“If you like.” Fiona appeared through the crowd, her sister a discreet distance behind. Gennie nodded to her maid, then returned her attention to Chandler. “Of course, if you’d rather write, I cannot stop you, but I must say that receiving your letters would cause me great distress.”

The confused look returned. “I cannot understand why. I certainly would not write of things that would upset you.”

“And yet our parting upsets me.” She nodded toward the train. “It’s time for me to go. I hope you understand if I prefer to say our goodbyes here.”

“But I’d hoped to see you to the train.”

Gennie rested her hand atop his. “I’m asking two things of you, Mr. Dodd. Keep your journal, and let me go to the train alone.”

The banker sighed. “These are your wishes?”

“They are.”

She held her breath while he considered the statement. Fiona stopped beside Gennie’s trunks, the only luggage near a train set to leave any moment. A fair distance away, Fiona’s sister stood watching.

A smile dawned on Chandler’s face. “Then it will be my pleasure to do as you ask.”

Relief flooded her, but Gennie was careful not to let the emotion show on her face. “Then, since you are in a mood to do as I ask, perhaps I could make one more request.”

“Anything.”

Gennie rose up on tiptoe and embraced Chandler. “Could I beg one last kiss?” she whispered.

“Miss Cooper, it is I who is reduced to begging in your presence.” He lowered his hat to shield their faces. “But I cannot think of any request I would enjoy fulfilling more than this one.”

This kiss, while not taking her by surprise, still stunned her. How in all the years she’d known Chandler Dodd had she missed this side of him? The answer came to her as he offered one last embrace and turned to walk away.

She’d missed it because she hadn’t been looking.

Gennie waited until Chandler’s top hat disappeared around the corner, then hurried to her trunks. The porter, considerably less
enthusiastic about her delay now that the train whistle had blown, reached for the handle.

“Don’t touch that,” she called. “Whatever he paid you, I will double it if you see that this trunk gets to…” She turned to Fiona and her sister. “Tell him which train you’re—or rather, I’m on.”

Fiona did, and the porter shook his head and checked his schedule. “But that train’s not going to Boston. It’s headed for Denver.”

“Exactly.” Gennie reached for the velvet reticule hanging from her wrist. “Now, how much did he pay you?”

The porter waived away her offer. “Your gentleman told me to see you got safely to where you’re going. I figure if you say you’re going to Denver instead of Boston, then that’s none of my business. Just give me a minute to locate a man to get your trunks over to the right train. According to my schedule, you’ve got nearly an hour before that one leaves.”

As the porter scurried off, Fiona introduced Gennie to her sister.

“I don’t know how to tell you how grateful I am that you’ve offered to take my place until my man and I can marry up and head west.” Fiona’s sister paused. “You’re certain this is what you want to do, Miss Cooper?”

“Yes, absolutely certain.” Gennie retrieved her ticket to Boston from her reticule and exchanged it with the one Fiona’s sister held for Denver. “If I don’t take this chance, I might never get another one.” She smiled at Fiona. “Enjoy yourself the next three days, and don’t let on to Simmons where I’ve gone when you return to work.”

“Of course. Thank you again, miss, for letting me have time with my sister. I know it’s a sacrifice, seeing as how you’ll have to travel alone.”

Strange how a trip to Boston had always required an escort, and yet she felt no such need on her excursion to Denver. Perhaps she was more like Mae Winslow than she thought.

Fiona’s sister’s voice penetrated her thoughts. “And you’re going to take good care of Mr. Beck’s girl until I get there?”

“Mr. Beck,” Gennie repeated. “Yes, of course. Tell me again how I will know who he is.”