The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper Part 32
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The final paragraph of the article caught his attention. "The bride, Miss Eugenia Flora Cooper of the Manhattan, Boston, and Newport Coopers, is of sterling character and stunning beauty and has found favor both at home and abroad for her quick wit and apt humor. One New York Times New York Times reporter, in Leadville to cover the recent miners' strike, commented that of all of New York society, the Coopers were his favorite to cover. 'The fact she's wed an earl's son does not surprise me,' the reporter quipped, 'for the family has ties to the royal families of several European countries.'" reporter, in Leadville to cover the recent miners' strike, commented that of all of New York society, the Coopers were his favorite to cover. 'The fact she's wed an earl's son does not surprise me,' the reporter quipped, 'for the family has ties to the royal families of several European countries.'"
The words swam in front of Daniel's eyes, and he took a deep breath. Damage control. He'd put Hiram on it immediately.
A simple story retracting the article as a mistake would suffice. Of course, the simple story retracting the article as a mistake would suffice. Of course, the Times Times reporter would have to be a part of the retraction. Daniel reached for pen and paper to jot a note of reminder. This must be handled today, before the story got any farther than Leadville. reporter would have to be a part of the retraction. Daniel reached for pen and paper to jot a note of reminder. This must be handled today, before the story got any farther than Leadville.
Stuffing the newsprint back in the envelope was simple enough, but the folded papers simply would not go. He opened the top drawer and swept the whole pile inside. Just as it closed, he saw the official seal on the first page.
Thoughts fled as he lifted a signed and executed marriage license from the drawer. His heart sank, and breathing became difficult.
So he and the woman who plagued his days and nights were indeed husband and wife. How was this possible?
And yet the implications intrigued him. Had he known, perhaps his memories might be colored with more than regret. He contemplated that a moment, allowing the thought to take hold.
He thumbed through the pages of the legal doc.u.ment until he came to the last-a writ of annulment with a note stating his signature would make the doc.u.ment valid. He read this with disappointment. Would it be that easy to rid her from his life?
Impossible, he knew, and yet he held the legal pages in front of him. The good pastor, or one of the others on the committee, had indeed seen to everything.
As easily as he'd married, he'd be free again. They both would be.
Oh, Lord, what have I done? Daniel sank back in the chair, but a knock brought him forward again. Tova slid the door open just enough to peer at him. Daniel sank back in the chair, but a knock brought him forward again. Tova slid the door open just enough to peer at him.
"You've a visitor, sir."
A visitor? What an odd way to refer to Gennie. "Send her in, of course."
Tova shook her head. "It's a him, sir, not a her."
She opened the door and moved back to allow a man in expensive but rumpled garb to push past. His build put Daniel in mind of someone who might have played rugby or football at Yale or Harvard, while his expression told of a man unused to the trouble this visit was causing him.
Daniel rose. "Do I know you?"
"You should. My name is Chandler Dodd."
Mae decided to make do and call out the traveler with what she already had. The rifle had only been used for batting practice, not shooting, so she went to it first. Riding like the wind, the fair female crossed the prairie on the untried steed, all the while praying that the man who had trailed her was friend and not foe.
Her rifle at the ready, Mae pulled up short and aimed at the oncoming shadowy figure.
"Mister," she called, "you come any closer, and it'll cost you your life."
Gennie decided she'd make Daniel wait just a few more minutes before answering his summons. She'd also decided to forgo any pretense of playing the coquette with him. If the man was too dense to see how very much she cared for him, then she'd just have to make it clear.
How, she hadn't quite figured out. That detail she could handle when the time came.
She made one more trip to the mirror, pinching her cheeks to heighten their color and retraining a few curls to frame her face. That done, she added a touch of rosewater at her wrists and neck, then reached for the doork.n.o.b.
Somewhere between the first and third versions of their waltz, she'd made a decision. She'd stay in Denver until Daniel Beck realized the real treasure was not at the bottom of some stupid mine in Leadville.
The real treasure was right here in his own home.
Though it would not be proper to remain under his roof once Daniel declared his intentions-and he would-she would soon be back under this roof as his wife. And this time, theirs would be a real wedding and not some imagined affair attended by people she barely knew. Mama and Papa would see that this was the wedding of the century.
It was not the wedding she most had her mind on, however, but the honeymoon. Antic.i.p.ation made her hands shake, and she pressed her palms against her skirt. What was it about Daniel Beck that made her think of days and nights of happiness that went on forever?
"He loves you, you know."
"Oh, Charlotte, sweetheart, I do hope you know what you're talking about."
Then she thought of Anna. How would she tell Anna Finch that she'd inexplicably fallen in love with Daniel Beck? She'd have to, and soon.
Tiptoeing down the stairs, she slipped past the partially open door of the library and outside without anyone's seeing her. A moment later, she slid between the hedges and arrived at Anna's front door.
Her friend expressed surprise and pleasure in equal measure at the visit, but quickly realized something was wrong. Bypa.s.sing the formality of offering up tea and snacks, she took Gennie by the wrist and practically dragged her upstairs.
"All right," Anna said when she'd closed the door, "let's hear it, Gennie. This is about Daniel, isn't it?"
Gennie nodded. "How did you know?"
Anna leaned forward and grasped Gennie's hands. "I'm not blind, Gennie. I've known for quite some time that he's in love with you."
"You have?" Gennie shook her head. "How? I didn't see it."
"Well, of course not." Anna smiled. "Sometimes that's how G.o.d works, right?"
"I suppose." Gennie sighed. "Still, I really thought you would be the perfect mother for Charlotte."
"I know," she said, "and she and I will always be close. I think it's because I understand her. We're very much alike."
Gennie laughed. "How so? Have you been a pie thief too?"
Anna gave Gennie a devilish grin. "Not specifically, though I did cover for one recently."
"Oh?"
Her friend laughed and walked into her closet, returning with a bundle. "I have a confession of my own. Open it."
"What is this?"
Another laugh. "That's the traveling outfit you wore the day you arrived in Denver."
Gennie looked up. "How did you come to have this?"
"I caught the little thief red-handed in it." Anna grinned. "It seems she'd been wearing the outfit when she went out to steal pies off unsuspecting folks' kitchen windows."
Outrage was tempered by amus.e.m.e.nt. "Why my clothing?"
"Charlotte figured people would think it was you stealing those pies." Anna shrugged. "I confiscated it and told her I'd tattle unless she gave up her ways and learned to bake pies instead of steal them. I don't know how she managed to get around in it, what with the difference in your sizes."
Gennie handed the bundle back to Anna. "I don't think I'll be needing this anymore."
Anna pulled her to her feet and embraced her. "I just have one request."
"What's that?"
"Can I be your maid of honor?"
Gennie turned the k.n.o.b of the front door and bounded inside, pausing only to collect herself before reaching the library. Through the closed door, she heard raised voices.
"You ought to go back on upstairs," she heard Elias say.
Gennie turned to find the old soldier dressed in full regalia despite the July heat. "He summoned me," she said.
"Since when does that matter?" he asked, though the chuckle she expected did not seem forthcoming.
The voices became louder, and she heard her name. "I should see what's going on."
"Don't," Elias called, but it was too late. She'd already opened the door.
She saw Daniel first, his face red and his expression sour. His gaze collided with hers, and she recoiled. She did not see love there.
Slowly the other man came into focus, and with it the reason for Daniel's obvious anger.
Gennie's mouth went dry. "Chandler."
No, Lord. Not yet. I just needed a little more time.
"Sweetheart!" The banker whisked her into an embrace she did not reciprocate.
"Chandler, what are you doing here?" she asked when she could manage it.
The banker seemed not to notice her discomfort. "Didn't you get my telegram? I came to bring you home."
Her fingers went to her throat, which felt like the Sahara. "But h-how did you find me?"
He took her hand and held it against his lips. "Hester was worried. She came to me with the telegram you sent." Chandler tossed the folded paper onto the desk, and Daniel picked it up. The words she wrote, so innocent then, looked d.a.m.ning now.
Need loan for quick exit. Wild West insufferable and so is Daniel Beck. Will repay upon return.
"Insufferable?" The word hung between them as Daniel waited for her to deny the validity of the doc.u.ment.
"You don't understand," she said, looking away. "I was angry. I wanted to go home."
"That's why I'm here," Chandler said. "Go pack your things. We've a train to catch." He shook his head. "No, on second thought, leave it all here. You'll want for nothing when we return."
I'll want for Daniel Beck. Do something, Lord. Please.
"I need to speak to Daniel alone."
Chandler pulled his ridiculously expensive watch from his pocket, then shook his head. "There's no time."
"Make the time, Chandler," she said. "You're an important man. I'm certain you can manage to delay a train for five minutes."
Her desperation must have shown, but Gennie didn't care. All she could think of was how close she'd come to a love she might very well be about to lose.
The only reason she would walk away from a man who made her feel wholly and completely alive was if he did not want her to stay.
While Daniel stared at her, Chandler began issuing orders, treating her like a child in need of instruction on the proper way to leave a home and board a train. The only instructions she needed at this point were the ones that would tell her how to reach through the sh.e.l.l she could see building around Daniel Beck. Surely the Lord had heard her groanings by now. Why hadn't He acted?
"Chandler, please," she interrupted. "Go wait in whatever conveyance brought you here."
"Darling, I-"
"Go. Now. Please." She used the authoritative tone she'd learned with Charlotte, and Chandler, surprised by her force, obeyed.
Until she heard Chandler's footsteps fade and the front door slam, she barely managed a breath. Woodenly, she went to the library door and shut it, then, in her final act of defiance, turned the key.
She loves you, Papa. Go after her.
The child was obviously deluded.
"Five minutes?" Daniel said. "Do we need even that?"
Gennie did not move from the door, nor did she turn around. His gaze went to the narrow span of her waist, to the spot where his palm had fit so nicely only an hour before.
It seemed like days.
No matter what the banker said about his hold on Gennie, Daniel knew his was stronger. He'd seen it. Felt it.
She was, after all, his wife.
The thought settled heavily on him, along with the realization that the door was locked. He could go to her now. Spin her around and kiss her until she forgot all about the banker. Until he forgot all about having the debacle that was getting their unintentional wedding annulled.
Before good sense could prevail, Daniel went to her. He stood close enough to touch her, though he dared not.
"Turn around."
She did, looking up with tears coursing down her cheeks. His fingers itched to wipe them away.
Daniel held out his hand. "The key, please."
She threw it, never removing her eyes from his as it clattered to the floor somewhere behind him.
The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper Part 32
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The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper Part 32 summary
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