CHAPTER
Eighteen
Eunice dropped lightly to the ground, shaking out the folds of her skirt as Georgette Howland strode toward her, pistol in hand. She was wearing, unusually enough, a brightly colored robe, her blond hair assembled in a messy knot on top of her head, secured with what seemed to be two paintbrushes.
“You might want to put the pistol away, Mother,” Eunice said, tipping back the brim of her hat. “I didn’t tear a hole in an afternoon gown I adore to be shot before I’ve had a chance to speak with you.”
Georgette stopped in her tracks, tilted her head, and tucked the pistol in a holster that was hanging low on her hip. “Sunshine, is that you? My goodness but this is a surprise. I thought you were one of those annoying society ladies who like to come snooping around. You should have let me know you were coming. I would have opened the gate and left my pistol in the house.”
“While it’s somewhat bewildering why you’d believe a society lady would climb a ten-foot hedge, I didn’t let you know I was coming because I only recently learned your direction and wasn’t expecting to encounter what amounts to a fortress upon my arrival.”
Georgette gave an airy wave of a hand. “I was forced to takeextreme measures to maintain my privacy after some society members who have their spring homes on the Hudson began making a habit of driving onto my land because I have lovely views of the river. It was quite annoying to find ladies and their gentlemen strolling about my yard as if they had every right to do so. Nevertheless, when I scared some fashionable ladies in an open carriage by shooting a rifle into the air, the local police paid me a visit and threatened to arrest me if I ever did that again. So, I added the iron gate, spikes, and additional hedges, and painted a threatening sign.” She smiled. “I’m pleased to report that I no longer get pestered by sightseeing members of the New York Four Hundred.”
“Since you operate an artist colony, one would think you’d want to cater to those darlings of society since they’re known to enjoy patronizing artists.”
“A reasonable point, but I’ve never been one who enjoys the patronizing attitude that comes with patrons of the arts. But since I doubt you’re here to listen to me wax on about society members, why don’t you—”
Before Georgette could finish her sentence, Arthur dropped to the ground, which had Georgette whipping out her pistol again and training it on him.
“I see you weren’t jesting about your mother being a tad aggressive with her pistol,” he muttered as he raised his hands in the air. “There’s no need for alarm, ma’am. I’m with Eunice.”
Instead of lowering her pistol, Georgette cocked it. “Who, pray tell, is Eunice?”
Arthur blinked. “Oh, well, that’s a bit of a story in and of itself, but for the sake of expediency, since you are holding me at pistol point, Eunice is actually Eugenia, although she doesn’t go by the name Eugenia these days.”
Georgette’s only response to that was to quirk a brow in Eunice’s direction.
“It’s a long story, but I changed my name to Eunice as well as changed my last name to Holbrooke—and not through marriage,mind you, if that was going to be your next question. I’m not married.”
“And here I was hoping that the delectable and dangerous-looking man claiming he’s with you was making that claim because he’s, well,withyou,” Georgette said as she stowed her pistol away again. “But tell me this, Sunshine, why in the world would you have gone through the bother of changing your name? Better yet, if you didn’t care for Eugenia, why would you have changed it to an even duller name?”
“Eunice isn’t dull, but as for why I chose it, I’m very fond of my traveling trunks that are stampedEH.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree about the dullness of your new name, but...” The corners of Georgette’s lips twitched. “The luggage explanation makes perfect sense because beautiful luggage cannot be overrated. With that said, though, I still adore the name Sunshine, so I’m certain you’ll understand if I continue to call you that over Eunice.” She turned to Arthur. “You’re looking rather confused, dear. If you’re unaware, my daughter’s middle name is Sunshine. I’ve always called her that, not having a fondness for the name Eugenia.”
“If you weren’t fond of the name Eugenia, why would you name your daughter that?”
“On account of my father’s demands, of course. He was adamant about naming my daughter after his mother, and because Father could be unpleasant when thwarted, I agreed to his demand but then chose Sunshine for her middle name.” She smiled. “I derived a sense of satisfaction every time Father shuddered when he heard me calling her Sunshine.”
“You did seem to relish annoying Grandfather,” Eunice said. “But speaking of names, I fear I’m neglecting my manners. I’ve yet to introduce you to Arthur. Mother, this is Mr. Arthur Livingston. Arthur, my mother, Georgette Howland.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Howland,” Arthur said, presenting her with a bow.
“Please, call me Georgette. But what a pity that it appears youand Sunshine aren’t romantically involved. I have a feeling you would have made a delightful addition to the family.”
Arthur’s eyes twinkled. “How kind of you to say, but I’m relatively certain your daughter wouldn’t agree with that. She finds me annoying as well as far too opinionated.”
“Does she now?” Georgette asked, the gleam flickering in her eyes more than a touch concerning.
“Don’t read anything into that, Mother,” Eunice began. “And for heaven’s sakes, don’t consider turning your attention to any matchmaking plots. Yes, I’m sure you’re disappointed to learn your one and only daughter is a confirmed spinster, but you lost the right to meddle in my life when you left me without a word ten years ago.”
Georgette released a sigh. “I suppose it was too much to expect that my disappearance wasn’t going to be broached straightaway. May I assume you’re annoyed with me about that disappearance?”
“Annoyed would be putting it mildly.”
“Then I should probably fortify myself with a nice bracing cup of coffee before we discuss the matter further. I have a feeling our conversation is going to be somewhat... prickly.” She gestured toward a dirt path. “Shall we repair to my humble abode?”
“We need to wait for our other companions, who I’m sure will be tumbling over the hedge any second now. But while we wait, and since you don’t want to delve into your disappearance without coffee, allow me to turn the conversation to something noncontentious.” Eunice smiled. “You’re looking well these days, although the robes are a different style for you.”
