The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper (23 page)

“Then I’m definitely not your girl, Mr. Beck.” She leaned forward, daring him to argue. “Or perhaps you’ve already forgotten the bathing and shampooing debacle. If I recall, you used the term ‘torturous scrubbing.’”

Daniel winced. He’d been a bit harsh with Miss Cooper, though to be fair, she’d been more than harsh in her letter to him regarding his ability to parent Charlotte.

“I might have misjudged the incident slightly,” he said, though each syllable was excruciating to admit. “And perhaps I might have misjudged you, as well.”

He waited for Miss Cooper’s admission of her own misjudgment, then realized none was forthcoming. “Might have?” she said instead.

“That’s the best I can offer. I have observed you to be a woman of some manners and breeding,” he said as a brilliant strategy occurred to him, “though I am not altogether certain you’re up to the task. In fact, now that I think on it, I’ve probably made a mistake in asking this of you.” Daniel looked away. “Of course, I welcome the opportunity for you to prove me wrong.” He met her eyes. “I dare you.”

The taunt worked. Miss Cooper sank back into the chair, her spine straight and her eyes narrowed. “You dare me?”

Daniel’s nod was slow, his gaze unwavering. “My daughter will be presented to a member of the royal family some weeks from now.”

“And?”

There was no sympathy in her response, nor did she seem to care to whom Charlotte would be presented. In short, the mention of royalty seemed to evoke none of the awe that he’d seen in others. Another reason to fire her.

Or was it a reason to keep her?

Too late to debate. He’d already put all his cards on the table. All that remained was to see whether his bet would pay off.

He knew he’d have to offer the woman something she’d have trouble turning down, lest she walk out the door and leave him with only Anna Finch to tutor Charlotte.

“I would like to strike a bargain with you. One that involves the very thing you came here to find.”

Was it his imagination or did he now have Eugenia Cooper’s attention?

“I cannot possibly imagine what you could offer that would be of interest to me.”

Her words belied what he’d learned last night. Though they might never even tolerate each other, there was no denying what passed between them when they kissed. He’d have to walk a fine line with this one. What he wanted for Charlotte had to take precedence over what he wanted for himself.

“Miss Cooper,” he said slowly, “would you help me with my problem if I promised to help with yours?”

“Mr. Beck, I cannot imagine you would trust me to take your daughter in hand when you did not trust me to do something as simple as supervise a bath and shampoo.” She held up her hand to silence his protest. “However, I am amenable to any apologies you might want to offer, though I cannot imagine what problem of mine you think you might possibly be able to solve.”

His grin was impossible to hide. “Your Wild West adventure. You tame Charlotte, and I’ll see that you have your chance to tame the West as well.” Her stunned look broadened his smile. “What say you?”

What could she say? The man was certifiable. First he stormed around like a bull in a china closet, then had the nerve to coerce her into a kiss.

Well, perhaps
coerce
wasn’t the correct term, but she neither expected it nor planned to allow it to happen again. And now he dared try and convince her to stay by promising the very thing she’d already decided she’d have to leave to find?

It was a lure she’d not take.

“A Wild West adventure in exchange for teaching your daughter to behave properly?” Gennie shook her head and took a step toward the door. “Impossible. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll pack my—”

Mr. Beck stepped between Gennie and the door. “Yes, do pack,” he said. “We leave tomorrow morning for Leadville.”

“Leadville?”

“You’ve heard of it, perhaps?”

Leadville was one of Mae Winslow’s favorites. The dime-novel heroine often chased bad guys through the streets of the city in the clouds and saved hapless miners from certain doom in places such as California Gulch and Beggars Alley.

“You’ve been made the offer,” he said. “I’ll also not promise you free rein with Charlotte. She’s my daughter—my only child—and I will guard her heart and her safety with my life. Do you understand?”

She did.

“In exchange for your cooperation, I will agree to allow you to take charge of Charlotte during those times when you are offering instruction or seeing to her daily routine.”

“You’re ignoring the fact that I’ve turned you down.”

Daniel Beck’s slow grin started with his eyes. “As I recall, you did not turn
me
down, Miss Cooper. And as for the job, you’ll accept.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. “You’re awfully confident, Mr. Beck.”

“I’ve reason to be,” he said, seemingly without shame. “Now, about this bargain.”

Her traitorous knees began to quake. “You’ll not interfere?” she asked as she attempted to stand straighter, taller, without giving evidence of her shaky foundation.

“I cannot promise.”

Gennie shrugged and pressed past him. “Then neither can I.”

He caught her wrist and hauled her back against him, then abruptly released her. “Perhaps you’re right. I can’t even be in the same room with you without—”

“Without?”

“Never mind.” Mr. Beck stepped back to allow her to walk out the door if she so chose. “I’ll not be reduced to begging, Miss Cooper. There are any number of young women who would love to take the position I’ve offered you. Sadly, they would be more interested in capturing me than tutoring Charlotte.”

“I cannot imagine why.”

He looked down at her, but she could not meet his stare. “Of course you can, Miss Cooper.”

Gennie let the statement hang between them, hoping her expression indicated an outrage she did not feel. He was right.

“While you do offer certain”—he paused—“temptations, I am not a man given to imposing myself on women who do not appreciate my advances. Though, I must point out, you’ve given ample evidence to support both sides of that case.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he held his hand up to silence her. “I am, however, a man who greatly dislikes the ridiculous cat-and-mouse game that is Denver society. Give me a horse and saddle over a biddy and a book reading any day. This is why I need a woman who will help my daughter navigate the treacherous waters of society in general and Denver specifically. Her debut will be in a few weeks. At that time, you are free to leave.”

“All of this I am to perform for merely the promise of a Wild West adventure?” Gennie looked around the library, then back to the silver baron. “Forgive me, but other than the outrageous décor in most of the rooms, this looks very much like what I left. How can you possibly offer
an authentic Wild West adventure when you obviously have no idea what one would entail?”

Rather than evoke his ire, Gennie’s question seemed to amuse him. “Try me,” he said in a voice so husky and low it might have been a growl.

“Now who is daring whom?”

He took her hand in his, and Gennie’s heart began to pound. She feared another kiss, then, when he made no move to do so, felt disappointment.

“Mr. Beck, you’re making this decision easy for me.”

“I am?” He looked perplexed as he turned her hand over and seemed to study her palm. “How so?”

She remembered her plan to bring Anna into the Beck family and marveled at how well this proposition of Daniel Beck’s fit with it. “I’ve a plan of my own,” she said, struggling to maintain a calm facade, “and because of that, I am going to agree to yours.”

“And this plan of yours, should I be concerned?”

“Of course.” Gennie pulled her fingers from his grip and turned to step out into the hallway. “One more thing.” She paused beneath the jeweled bird statue and looked over her shoulder at Mr. Beck. “How serious are you about cultivating culture and breeding in your daughter?”

The silver baron had moved to the door frame, leaning against it as if he had nowhere to be but that very spot. “Very.”

“Then I shall require a budget for purchasing suitable clothing for your daughter, which you and the rest of the staff
will
join me in requiring she wear.”

He moved toward her, stopping mere inches away. “If you think it’s necessary.”

“It is.” She stared up at him a moment in an attempt to emphasize her point, as well as to be certain her knees would not buckle. When she felt she’d accomplished the feat, Gennie headed for the stairs and the sanctity of her room.

She’d almost reached the top step when she turned to see him staring up at her. Emboldened, Gennie smiled. “Mr. Beck?”

He rested both hands on the carved and gilded newel post. “Call me Daniel.”

Gennie gripped the rail but did not let her smile slip. “No, that would be most improper.”

The man had the audacity to laugh. “As you wish.”

“There’s just one more thing. A requirement, if you will.”

“And what might that be?”

She pointed to the horrid bird. “It’s me or that bejeweled poultry. One of us stays and the other goes.”

This time his laugh might have shaken the chandeliers back home in Manhattan. “Do be serious.”

“I
am
serious.” She wasn’t, of course, but it gave her—and him—one last opportunity for an exit.

“Done.” He took the steps two at a time, stopping just below her and placing his eyes at the same level as hers. They were gray, with the most interesting circle of gold at the center. “Permit me to observe that you’re serious far too much of the time, Miss Cooper.”

“And you, Mr. Beck, are far too observant. Dispose of the chicken before the rooster crows.”

With that, she managed to find her door and close it before collapsing onto the nearest chair. The Bible on the bedside table beckoned, but she hadn’t the strength in her trembling arms to reach for such a heavy volume.

“Oh my,” she whispered as she fanned herself with the copy of Mae Winslow’s adventures Mr. Beck had given her. “Lord, what in the world have I done? And if it please You, might You advise me on how to undo it?”

A rap at the door startled her. “Miss Cooper?” She rose but could not manage the trek to the door. “Yes?” “The bird is gone,” Mr. Beck said. “You may come out now.” Gennie reached for the mantel and held on tight, her gaze moving to the open window and the expanse of green lawn beyond. Without much difficulty, she could once again escape across that lawn and find her way back to town. By now Hester had surely wired enough money to get her home.

Or on a train headed to Deadwood or Dodge City. “Miss Cooper?”

She forced herself to look away from freedom. “Yes?” “The Wild West adventure I promised?” Sinking onto the chair once more, Gennie sighed. “Yes.” “It begins in precisely fifteen minutes at the carriage house. It’s a bit warm for the jacket today, but don’t forget your boots.”

His own boots rang a staccato rhythm out on the floorboards that faded away to an uneasy silence. Gennie set the dime novel aside and reached for the more exciting of the two adventure books—the Bible.

Evidently God wanted Mae to take a bath, because the very next thing she did was stumble into a creek. The water was brown, but her clothes didn’t mind, and neither did she. It took some doing, but she managed to climb from the water fresh as a daisy and ready to take on the next problem that came her way.

She changed her mind when she stepped onto the bank and saw One-Eyed Ed aiming his pistol at the middle of her forehead.

Gennie nodded to Isak as she entered the carriage house. The sweet smell of hay mingled with the earthy scent of horses to remind her of the carriage house back in Newport. There she and Hester had whiled away the hours, playing in the empty stalls, then enduring the torturous removal of straw from their hair before going in to take afternoon tea and biscuits with Mama.

“Good. You’re prompt.” She turned to see Daniel Beck at the opposite end of the long breezeway. “I assume you can ride.”

“Ride? A
horse?”

He strode toward her, and she noticed the hamper in his hand. “Yes, a horse, Miss Cooper.”