"But darlin'…"
"No argument needed," she said firmly. "I've truly thought it over. Very carefully."
"But Eugenia…"
Eugenia rose and walked to the mantle over the fireplace. She lifted a delicate figurine and studied it, touching the curves so carefully structured by someone's deft fingers. She remembered Iris and Nell, and how they had become to be interested in the arts. If they were so interested in poetry, maybe she could see to it that they would carry their interests even further. She could see that they would be educated. Just like Frederick had done for her.
"Now, I'll make them earn their keep," she added, placing the figurine back on the mantle. "By day, they will be my personal maids, and by night they will be just as you and I, individuals, doing what they want."
Adam laughed. "Sure. Sure you can change them into prima donnas. After they've lived their lives dedicated to the pleasurin' of men? Do you think they can forget that so easily? Don't you think they'll begin to crave such a life once again?"
Not wanting to listen, Eugenia walked away from him. "And the library? It will be Nell and Iris's learning ground. They love poetry. Frederick has book after book filled with the most beautifully written poetry by the best known poets of all time. Nell and Iris will learn from it. You'll see."
Adam rose and went to Eugenia and pulled her to face him. "Are you sayin' you aren't goin' to be a part of The Old Homestead Parlour any longer, Eugenia? That you're going' to move in here? Permanently?"
Eugenia began to trace his mouth with a finger. "No, love, I didn't say that. Not exactly," she said. "I plan to divide my time between the two houses. I can do it. I can make The Old Homestead Parlour stay a place of respect as it already is, plus enjoy this house as well."
Adam's fingers tightened on her shoulder. "How can you still say that place is a place of respect? Don't you know what that place stands for?"
"Adam, you're hurting me," she said icily. "Please let me go."
"I'm sorry, hon," he said, moving back away from her. "I just want you to leave that place. And marry me. Is that askin' too much?"
"Adam, I've told you. I'm not ready for marriage. Not quite yet. Especially now. I'm to be mistress of two houses now and that will take much of my time."
Adam reached down to the chair where he had slung his hat, grabbed it and placed it on his head with a quick thrust. "That's that," he stated flatly, turning to leave. "I know when I'm whipped. I'm leavin'."
Eugenia hurried to him, clutching his arm. "But, Adam," she said quickly. "You didn't hear all that I have planned."
He swung around and faced her, eyeing her darkly. "Yeah? What else are you plannin' to do to exclude me?"
"But that's what I have to tell you, my love," she said, taking one of his hands, squeezing it. "I want you also to be a part of this house. Live here. There are so many rooms. Why not fill one of them with your welcome presence?"
"You mean me?" he asked, his eyes darting around him, taking it all in. "In here?" he added. "You've just gotta be kiddin'."
"No, Adam," she said, putting her arms around his neck. "Please? You can be responsible for all the horses in the stable. Remember how you told me that you love horses? How you love working with them? My horses could be yours. Please say yes."
"My days would be filled with one love," he said, moving his lips over her face, her nose, her eyelids. "And at night?"
"Also filled with one you love," she whispered.
"Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?"
"Not marriage. It isn't in the plans. Not yet," she said. "But myself? I'm yours. Whenever you would desire me."
"Damnit, woman," he said, flipping his hat from his head. "What more could a man want?"
All the sorrows of the past few days were swept away with one kiss from his lips. Eugenia didn't even feel shame for doing it in Frederick's house, knowing that he would want what would make her happy or he wouldn't have left her the house.
"There's many beds upstairs," Eugenia whispered, kissing Adam gently on his cheek, inhaling, enjoying his smell. It was a smell of outdoors intermingling with his own special male odor that she had grown so used to being around.
"Hmmm? So you say," he said, then lifted her up in his arms and began to walk up the winding staircase. "And which one would you choose?"
"Just keep walking. I shall point with the toe of my shoe," she giggled. When he got in front of what was once her room, she pointed, and waited as he turned the knob. All memories met her as the door opened, revealing the soft lilac colors of the room, and the plushness of the divan and chairs situated around it. She pointed her toe once again.
"On in there," she said, kissing him once again, knowing that she was only moments away from being carried to heights of ecstasy on the bed that she had called her own for many months.
"You do know this place well," he teased, carrying her on where the bed awaited. "Whose room was this?"
"Mine, my love," she answered as he lowered her down onto the softness. "Mine."
"And now ours?"
"You don't want a room all to yourself, Adam?" she teased, watching him begin to undress, feeling her heart throbbing so hard, she thought she might swoon right on the spot.
"I might, I might," he said, pulling down his breeches. "It's accordin' to how you perform this afternoon, as to whether I'll have you as my wench or not."
"You shall see how I perform," she teased, then began to unbutton the front of her blouse.
He stepped out of his underclothing, then climbed on the bed beside Eugenia, "Here. Let me help you undress," he said thickly, his fingers fumbling, making her laugh like a child, waiting to be given a long-awaited treat. Then when she felt the coolness of the satin bedspread against her back, she welcomed him in her embrace, and found out once again how it felt to have a man turn her brain to mush.
"You are a she-devil, you know," he uttered as his manhood began to thrust inward and outward.
"I am?" she grunted, lifting her body, twisting it, trying to capture his every movement.
"My she-devil," he said, then devoured her breast with his mouth, making her lose all sense of time and reason as her head began to swim in swirls of orchids, blues, and whites.
"My love," she said, as she felt the melting sensation envelop her, meeting his more demanding thrusts. And then it was all over.
"It never lasts long enough," he groaned, pulling from her. "It just never lasts long enough."
"It just gives you something to look forward to," she said, relaxing against the mattress, glad to be "home" to stay. Yes. She felt as though she was home. And this time she also had a man to call her own. For as long as she wanted.
"Shall we survey the rest of the palace?" he asked, rising from the bed to put his clothes back on.
"Yes. I'd love to show it to you," she said, also rising, dressing hurriedly.
"What's first on the list?"
"I'd like to show you the tower rooms," she said solemnly. "Frederick refused to show them to me when I first moved in here. I wondered about them for so long, and when I did see them, I was shocked. So, I don't want you to have to wonder. I shall show you right now."
"You look quite presentable after such a roll in the hay," he teased, brushing her hair back away from her eyes.
"And you? You look good enough to eat," she laughed, walking into her sitting room, and then out into the hallway.
"Come. This way," she said. She didn't want him to share her feeling of gloom, so she tried to laugh and tease as they walked up the narrow, dark staircase. Then when they reached the top, she stopped, wondering which room she should show him first. She chose to show him the room where she had made love with Drew. A night she would never forget. A night when he had left her again, and this time for the last time. She had never heard from him since.
"In here," she said, swinging the door open. "Just an empty room. No mystery about it. Just needed to show you, so your curiosity wouldn't be aroused. And now the
next," she said, continuing on her way, feeling his presence at her side. She was so glad to have him, so glad he was her man.
She opened the door that led into the plushness of Frederick's opium den. It was all still there. Everything. She watched Adam's expression change to one of wonder.
"Damn," he shouted. "What the hell do we have here?" he said, walking around the room, studying it all.
"It's called an opium den," she admitted, standing still, not wanting to touch any of it. She could envision Frederick stretched out on the cushions, lost in his own little world of drugs to idle his lonely hours away. She was glad to have found out that he hadn't frequented the room since their closer relationship began.
"Do you mean the old man actually used this stuff?"
"Yes. But he hadn't for a long time. He had withdrawn from it. I heard that it was quite painful for him at times, but he had withdrawn from it. After we became close. I kept his life happy up to the end. I'm glad I can say that."
Adam opened a bottle and sniffed. He put a finger down into it and put some of the soft white powder on its tip, then put it to his lips.
"Nothing," he said, looking surprised. "Absolutely nothing. I wonder what kind of tricks it can create? Did you ever try it?"
Eugenia couldn't hide a deep shudder. "No. Never. And I don't ever intend to either."
Adam put the lid back on the jar and began to walk to the door. "Well? What other surprises do you have in store for me?"
"The next is quite a shocker. You won't believe it," Eugenia said, shutting the door behind her, hoping she would never have to enter that room again. She had thought of getting rid of all of the equipment, but she didn't want to bother. And how could she? All of it was quite illegal. If she would be caught trying to get rid of it, she could be accused of using it. No. It was safer right where it was.
"Now. This room," she said, pausing outside the room that she had had many nightmares about. "I told you about this one. Earlier. You'll remember when you see." She swung the door open, revealing the dimly lit room with shackles hanging from the walls.
"Damn," he mumbled, going to them, touching them. "And you were made to have these damn irons around your lovely wrists? How can you bear to even come into this room again?"
"I can't, hardly," she whispered, putting her fingers to her throat, remembering Clarissa. Clarissa who had done this to her, Clarissa who had begged for employment at her house.
Up to now, Clarissa hadn't tried anything to get revenge on her. Would she now that Frederick was gone? Had Clarissa been too afraid to while he had been alive? Only time would give Eugenia the answer to that.
"Well, let's get the hell out of here," Adam mumbled.
"And the other room?" she said, hurrying on out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. "I've never been inside it. It will be as much a surprise to me as to you."
She went to the door and opened it, then moved slowly into the room. It apparently was a storage room for Frederick's sheet music and diaries. Some of it was neatly stacked, while others were yellow and crumbling, ready to fall into a dusty heap of ashes.
"I imagine one could find much out about Frederick's sadness by reading all of this," she said, touching things, then withdrawing her fingers, afraid she might destroy some of Frederick's memories if she so much as moved one item.
"Come on. Let's go on downstairs," Adam said, going to her, guiding her by the elbow on out of the room. He shut the door behind them, and held her hand tightly as they headed back down the staircase.
"One damn upper floor, I'd say," he laughed nervously. "Not the usual you'd find in most houses, would you say?"
Eugenia laughed nervously also. "No. I'm sure not," she said, breathing more easily when she stepped out into the hallway. She pulled a set of keys from her skirt pocket and sorted through them until she found the one marked "Tower." Then, determinedly, she put it into the lock and turned it.
"This hallway will remain locked as long as I'm in charge of this house," she said flatly. "No one will need enter for any reason. Only sadness can be wrought upon anyone who enters those rooms. Right?"
"Right," Adam said, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her, at first tenderly, then more passionately, making all remorseful ness leave her mind once again. Adam would make all wrongs right. Forever. Her Adam, her sweet Adam.
* * *
Chapter Twenty
It just didn't seem possible to Eugenia that so much time had passed since Frederick's death. She sat comfortably in the library of The Towers, having lit the first fire of autumn. She sighed pleasurably, feeling like the warmth filling the room was almost the same as a caress against her cheeks. She looked across from her, seeing both Nell and Iris absorbed in books. Nell was no longer fidgety, but refined—a learned young woman—not so much younger than Eugenia, but yet a daughter figure for her to marvel at. Yes, Nell was beautiful with her golden hair piled high in a neat pompadour. And Iris. The color of a chocolate bar, and just as sweet. Always smiling, showing her clean, white teeth, always ready to please.
"How are my girls?" Adam said, as he entered. He went to Eugenia and kissed her gently on the forehead and Eugenia watched closely to see if he and Nell exchanged that look that Eugenia had just begun to notice of late. Her heart skipped a few beats when they did. Eugenia knew that look so well. A look of knowing, familiarity. A look only exchanged by lovers. But no, she had to be wrong. Not her Nell. And not her Adam. She hadn't felt anything amiss when she and Adam made love. Surely he still loved her. They had been so good for each other, in so many ways.
"Busy day, hon?" she asked, hating it when her voice broke a little, afraid they would see her suspicions.
Adam stood in front of the fire, with his back turned to it. He pulled a cigar from his front shirt pocket. After wetting the end, he stuck it between his lips. "Yep," he answered. "Got the horses lookin' sleek as snot."
Iris covered her mouth and giggled. Nell sat in silence, her eyes telling it all, as she continued to watch Adam.
"Key will have supper ready shortly," Eugenia said, rising, going to Adam. She put her arm around his waist, a silent reminder of who it was he was supposed to be in love with.
"One big happy family." Adam laughed gruffly.
Yes, Eugenia thought to herself, one big happy family. It had taken some doing to get Key to return to this house, even though Frederick and Clarissa were no longer a part of it. But once he had returned, he had never cooked better. Each evening was a surprise. Always gourmet. No other cook could even compare.
"I've got to leave for a while, hon," Eugenia said abruptly. "Alison called a short while ago. Some trouble with the colored women. A strike of some sort."
Adam drew deeply from his cigar, then let out a huge puff of smoke. "Dammit you say," he grumbled. "Women strikers? Sure as hell never thought I'd see the day."
"I should run on over there now, Adam," Eugenia said, touching him gently on the chin. It was stubbly, a trace of whiskers had just begun to show a planned beard.
"Even before supper?"
"I only waited this long so I could check it out with you. I've already sampled Key's meal. Enough to get me by. Be prepared for stuffed capons."
"Stuffed who?" Adam laughed.
"Capon," Eugenia said once again, laughing also. "You'll soon see. I hope you'll enjoy." She gave Nell a nervous smile then turned to leave.
"You're serious," Adam said, following after her. "You're really leavin'."
Eugenia went to the hallway closet and pulled her cape around her shoulders. "Hon, you know I'm usually serious. About everything I do and say."
"Want me to go with you?"
"No. I think I can handle it."
"Now don't you walk. Take the carriage. Too much meanness on the streets after dark."
"Yes, love," Eugenia purred. "So glad you still care."
"I've told you. Many times. I'll always care."
"Kiss me good-bye?" Eugenia asked, needing more reassurance. Hi
s response was swift, kissing her brusquely, making her head begin to swim.
" How's that from this ol' cowboy?" he chuckled.
Eugenia swung the hood up over her head. "Whew!" she said, breathless. "I'll be back for more later." She could still hear him laughing when she went to climb into the carriage.
As the carriage carried her down Myers Avenue, she could feel the crispness of the air, but hadn't yet seen the snow's arrival on her mountain. She knew that the time was fast drawing near when she would have a chance to return to her parents' homestead, but as each day passed it became more and more doubtful that she would return. Too many things demanded her personal attention. One day she would return.
Stepping from the carriage, she stopped to take a look upward. The lights twinkled from each window. All appeared to be well inside this house of girls. Then she looked toward the small house in back. It also appeared to be functioning normally. She had no idea what Alison could have meant about a strike. She hurried on up the steps and when she opened the door, she found six colored girls sitting, waiting for her in the main parlor.
Alison rushed to Eugenia, frowning, wringing her hands in front of her. "What should I have done?" she began, looking back over her shoulder, eyeing the dark brown eyes moving along with her.
Eugenia swallowed hard, not having ever been confronted before by a bunch of colored girls… on strike? She threw her cape aside and entered, looking at each of them individually, assessing them, wondering. Then her eyes came to meet with Clarissa's. A coldness surged through her, and she knew that it was she, Clarissa, who had stirred up the trouble. It had taken Clarissa almost a full year, but now she had the other colored girls on her side. Eugenia hated to hear the demands. She went and stood in front of the fireplace, facing them all.
"Now what's all this about?" she asked firmly, frowning in Clarissa's direction.
"We demand to be treated as equals. The same as the girls in this house," Clarissa said boldly, standing.
Eugenia could feel the cold blood in her veins change to a slow boiling. "And what could you be speaking of?" she asked quietly, trying to not let her voice tremble, showing her heightened rage.
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