Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, not particularly thrilled to relive what had to be the most embarrassing moment of his life. “Mitzi seemed genuinely happy to see me that night, and she even agreed to take a tour of the hallways with me to peruse the famed artwork the Astors have displayed throughout their home. Unfortunately, the moment I took her hand and professed my great admiration for her, Mitzi turned from happy young lady to an appalled one. She then told me in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t welcome the opportunity of courtship with me because...” He stopped talking and drew in a deep breath, unable to help but wonder how he could have ever been so naïve.
“Because why?” Eunice pressed.
“Because I was only a second son. She told me I didn’t possess the sizable fortune she desired since my older brother, Benjamin, was expected to take over my father’s vast holdings.”
Eunice gave his hand a pat. “That was incredibly harsh of her.”
“Indeed, but it was honest. What made the situation worse, though, was that I had allowed a few of my gentlemen friends to know of my intentions toward Mitzi. Those friends soon realized I’d been unsuccessful in my desire to court her, because her family announced the very next day that she was engaged to Mr. Thomas Gibson, a firstborn son who’d already taken up the reins of his father’s real estate empire and was destined to inherit an enormous fortune.”
“Ah, the plot thickens. Rejected because of another man.”
“You’re not exactly making me feel better about the matter.”
“But surely you’ve concluded over the years that Mitzi was obviously not the lady for you. In all honesty, it sounds to me as if she flirted with your affections while knowing all the while that she wanted to marry a more established man about town.” Eunice shook her head. “You often see that as a subplot in novels, where the lady who dashed the hopes of the hero comes to regret her decision in the end, while the hero ends up with the lady he was truly meant to marry, usually obtaining some wisdom by the end of the book, such as how wrong he was to believe he was rejected because of some deficiency on his part.”
It was rather astonishing how much one could apparently glean from reading a vast assortment of romance novels.
“What did you do to get over what had to be a humiliating experience at the hands of Mitzi Jarvis, who I’m going to assume is now Mrs. Thomas Gibson?”
“I devised a plan.”
Eunice gave his hand another pat. “I would expect nothing less of you. May I assume that plan involved abandoning the role you were expected to play as a second son and instead throwingyourself into investing in copper mining, determined to become one of the leading copper mining industrialists in the country?”
“Perhaps I should simply allow you to complete the telling of my story because, yes, that’s exactly what I did.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Your story would definitely have to include a plan to marry someone Mitzi would see as competition, or better yet, someone who had the potential to upset Mitzi’s position as an up-and-coming society matron.”
“You really have been reading a lot of romance novels, haven’t you, and some with rather surprising plot twists.”
“Revenge is not a surprising plot twist, Arthur, and clearly that’s what you were planning.”
It was rather refreshing to have someone speak so directly as well as derive such an honest assessment of a situation he’d wrestled with for years. Drawing in a breath, Arthur stilled as the thought came to him that Eunice was exactly right and that his plan had definitely come about because of a thirst for revenge—revenge that he’d wanted because a young lady had wounded his male pride and embarrassed him amongst his friends.
He was relatively convinced, now that Eunice had brought it into the open, that plotting out his life in such a Machiavellian fashion, and all because of a wounded ego, was somewhat ridiculous.
“I suppose that does explain some of the lingering questions I have concerning why you were so adamant about not courting me seven years ago,” Eunice said. “I’m sure you were determined at that time to marry an incomparable within society, and I certainly didn’t fit the requirements for that.” She caught his eye. “I’m now wondering, though, if perhaps you made yourself so disagreeable to me because you didn’t want to risk having my grandfather dismiss you from entering into some type of partnership with him.”
It was extremely disconcerting how easily she was figuring him out.
He winced. “I’m afraid Iwasdisagreeable on purpose, and Imust beg your pardon for that. It wasn’t as if you did anything to warrant my criticism.”
“I’m fairly sure you’re wrong about that. I mean, yes, I didn’t warrant your criticism at first, but after spending only an hour with you, I found it somewhat amusing to deliberately bait you. I may have—or rather, I did—go out of my way to annoy you.” She grinned. “I’m normally not quite that argumentative.”
“Which is good to know, although I imagine if you decide to return to Montana with me, we’ll find something to argue about on the long train ride west.”
“I think it’s a given I’m going to return to Montana as well as begin doing what I’ve been doing in New York for almost a year—opening up an investigation into a case that’s remained unsolved for far too long.”
She blew out a breath. “I’m still terrified to begin investigating Grandfather’s murder, but it’s becoming clear that until that mystery is solved, I won’t find that sense of peace I’ve been searching for. Someone could still have me in their sights with nefarious intentions in mind, but I don’t want to continue hiding underneath my widow’s weeds. I’ll never find that fairy-tale ending if I don’t come out of hiding. That means I have no choice but to return to Montana and try to put the past to rest once and for all.”
“I’ll be beside you the entire time,” Arthur promised as he took hold of her hand. “It’ll be easier to help you now that I’m beginning to understand who you truly are. Frankly, I’m getting the distinct impression you’ve been disguising more truths about yourself than only your identity over the years. Yes, you’re an accomplished woman, but you’re not nearly as intimidating as you’ve allowed everyone to believe. Learning you’re a romantic, well, it explains much about you, including why it was ludicrous for me to assume you’d blithely agree to a marriage between us.”
He got to his feet, pulled her to hers, and smiled before he kissed her hand. “I think this is the part in the story where you and I begin again. I’m Mr. Arthur Livingston. A less-than-sensitive man, or so I’ve been told, who’d very much like to become betteracquainted with you—the real you, the romantic at heart and the woman who has finally found the courage to admit your fears.”
She dipped into a curtsy and returned his smile. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Arthur Livingston, although allow me to say that I think you may be more sensitive than you know. I’m Miss Eunice Holbrooke, proprietress of Holbrooke boardinghouse, partner in the oh-so-marvelous Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency, and grand heiress to the Mason fortune.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Arthur said.
“The pleasure is mine, especially since you’re no longer determined to marry me, although I’m relatively convinced you’re not going to suffer the same emotional turmoil from knowing I don’t long to marry you as you did with Mitzi, who, in my honest opinion, was a fool.”
