“If I’m understanding correctly, there’s a chance Eugenia might believe you murdered her grandfather, although you believe it’s a small chance, and yet you think she’s going to agree to marry you? Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m sure I can convince her I wasn’t responsible for her grandfather’s death. After that, I’ll then convince her that I can keep her safe.”
“You just told me she left Montana in the company of her bodyguard, Ivan something or other. Seems to me a bodyguard would be more than up for the task of keeping Eugenia safe.”
“A bodyguard is not the same as a husband.”
Chase retook his seat. “A valid point, since a bodyguard can be sent away at night, whereas Eugenia would be stuck with you—somethingshe might not be keen about, especially if underneath her practicality is a lady who wants to marry for love.”
“Eugenia never struck me as a romantic at heart. I doubt she’s ever harbored any longings for love.”
“Most people long for love.”
“I don’t.”
Chase waved that aside. “That’s because your heart was broken at a tender age. However, there’s absolutely no reason for you to close yourself off to the idea of marrying for love. Why, I would suggest that instead of pursuing Eugenia Howland—if you can even find her—you try your luck at discovering love during the New York Season. I’m sure somewhere amid all the young ladies out this year is someone you could fall in love with. And if you embrace that charming attitude you usually adopt with the ladies, one you apparently abandoned while dealing with the Widow Holbrooke, I’m sure some eligible young lady out there will fall in love with you in return.”
“Did someone mention a widow, and if so, may I dare hope her mourning days are soon to be behind her?”
The sound of a cane thumping on the wooden floor heralded the arrival of Arthur’s maternal grandfather, Mr. Lloyd Brevoorts, into the library. Lloyd paused right past the threshold, gesturing with his cane to Chase, who abandoned his chair and strode to his grandfather’s side. When he tried to take hold of Lloyd’s arm, though, Lloyd gave him a bit of a whack with the cane.
“I’m not ancient, boy,” Lloyd barked, earning a grimace from Chase in return.
“I was merely trying to help you across the library, something I assumed you wanted me to do when you waved your cane my way.”
“You were sitting in my favorite chair,” Lloyd said as he thumped his way to the chair Chase had vacated and sat down. He immediately leveled an expectant eye on Arthur. “The widow?”
Arthur grinned. “One would think with all the widows you’re already squiring around town that you wouldn’t have the time or interest in becoming acquainted with another one, Grandfather.And before you argue that point, know that Mrs. Holbrooke is not a woman you’d find enjoyable. She’s argumentative and exceedingly forthright, and I didn’t get the impression she’s old enough for you, although I can’t be sure about that because she never removed her mourning veils while I was in her company.”
“She sounds feisty. Your grandmother, God rest her soul, was feisty. I enjoy that quality in a woman.”
“Feistiness is one thing, but Mrs. Holbrooke keeps a pistol at the ready, and she seems to know how to handle it.”
“A take-charge type of lady appeals to me as well,” Lloyd said, his lips twitching before he gave Arthur a thorough looking-over. “It doesn’t appear you’ve actually suffered another shooting, which means this Widow Holbrooke has a sense of restraint about her, which is another stellar characteristic in my humble opinion, and good thing for that. Your mother was beside herself after she learned you were shot, what was it now—at least seven years ago?”
“Mother wouldn’t have known I’d been shot if someone, that being you, hadn’t walked in on me when I was changing my bandages after I returned to New York and decided to inform her of what was really only a minor injury done to my arm.”
Chase hauled a chair right next to Arthur’s and sat down. “You told me you were accidentally shot while trying to intervene in a heated fight between two of your miners.”
“I wasn’t very well going to admit that I’d been shot by Eugenia Howland, and on the very day her grandfather died.”
“How can you honestly think that a woman who shot you is going to want to marry you?”
“What’s this about marriage?” Lloyd demanded.
Chase crossed his arms over his chest. “Arthur has decided to marry Eugenia Howland, if he can find her, something he’s been unsuccessful with. His luck is unlikely to change, now that he’s apparently annoyed the ladies of the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency.”
“I’ve merely suffered amisunderstandingwith that agency. I’m sure I’ll be able to remedy that just as soon as I muster up the courage to talk to Eunice Holbrooke again.”
Lloyd leaned forward. “Eunice Holbrooke being that feisty widow you were talking about?”
“The one who threatened me with a pistol two days ago, yes.”
“Sounds to me, if the lady brought out a pistol, that you suffered more than a misunderstanding,” Lloyd said. “What did you do to incur her wrath?”
“I didn’t doanythingwrath-worthy.” Arthur blew out a breath. “The animosity she immediately turned my way was peculiar to say the least. And if she’d not taken an immediate dislike to me, I’d have likely verified by now that an agent employed by the agency might have seen Eugenia around the city at some point.”
“Why do you say that?” Chase asked.
