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Frederick smiled, making his cheeks full out even more. "You are to call me Frederick, Eugenia. Please remember that."
"Yes, Frederick," she answered, then watched his bulky figure walk from the room. She listened intently as she heard the horse's hoofs clattering away, then felt the silence around her. She turned remembering Clarissa, who was standing, waiting.
"Are you ready to go to your room, Eugenia?" Clarissa asked, reaching for Eugenia's hand.
"I reckon I be," Eugenia answered, letting herself be guided up the winding staircase. It didn't even have carpet on its steps. The wood shone back at her, reminding her of sorghum molasses. Then her eyes went to Clarissa, who had stepped on ahead of her. Eugenia didn't know if Clarissa was Negro or white. Her skin was a much darker brown than Eugenia's own, but she did not have the black skin of most Negroes. It was a softer, lighter brown. Her facial features were delicate, and her nose was small and tilted somewhat at the end over lips that showed only the slightest fullness. Eugenia knew her own lips were full, but not as much as Clarissa's. And Clarissa's hair was short and fluffed in tight black ringlets circling her face. Its stiffness resembled that of a Negro's. But yet her skin was so much lighter. Eugenia only had to wonder.
Clarissa's dress fell around her ankles in stiffness, rustling noisily with each step taken. Eugenia didn't like the dress. It was too cold appearing, solid black except for a crisp white collar hugging Clarissa's neck.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Eugenia discovered that upstairs was as grand as the lower floor. Clusters of small replicas of chandeliers lighted the length of the long hallway, settling on gilded frames on the side walls, picturing men and women in stiff poses. And there were many doors. Eugenia had to wonder why any one man would need so large a house, even though he was awfully large himself. It had appeared vast on the outside at her first glance that second day she had been in Cripple Creek, but now it seemed even more so as she was guided beside the pictures. She was glad when Clarissa came to a door and opened it, stepping back so Eugenia could enter.
One step inward and Eugenia was thrust into another world of surprises. It wasn't only a bedroom, but a room filled with plush chairs and a sofa placed around another fireplace. The flames from the fire were outlined in shadows dancing on the walls and upholstered furnishings. The carpet she was now standing on looked as though it was velvet, as were the orchid velveteen draperies hanging at three windows.
She sighed and began to make her way around the room, feeling as though she was walking on a cloud, the carpet beneath her feet was so pl
ush. "If my Mama could only see this," she said, remembering the handmade furniture that her Mama had only seen. "But where is the bed?" she questioned, swinging around to eye Clarissa.
"In the adjoining room," Clarissa said, walking away from her, opening another door. "In here, Eugenia," she added, disappearing through the door.
Eugenia hurried along, anxious to see what else was awaiting her. It had to be grand… as was everything else she had been shown. When she entered the adjoining room, her heart skipped a few beats. This bed was breathtaking… so huge, with a pale orchid velveteen canopy draped down over it, and a rosewood headboard with curving lines and rich, ornamental designs.
"Is this really where I'll be sleepin?" Eugenia gasped, going to the bed, touching it, pressing downward, marveling at its softness.
Clarissa laughed softly, going to the bed, turning back its richly embroidered bedspread. She fluffed two highly stuffed pillows. "Yes, ma'am," she said, turning back to face Eugenia. "And would you like to see the wardrobe that Frederick has ordered for you?"
"A wardrobe, especially for me?"
Clarissa went to another door and opened it. Her fingers began to work through the dresses, then pulled one out and carried it to Eugenia. "This is my favorite one," she said, running her fingers down the smoothness of the green satin.
"That dress is mine to wear?" Eugenia gasped further, wanting to touch it so badly, but yet drawing back. All of this was beginning to be too much. It was all happening too fast for her. And how would Frederick have known her dress size and her deep desire to own such a dress? A dress in satin, a dress green in color. Questions began to fill her mind with doubts. She eyed Clarissa closely, only finding a gentle smile, revealing even, smooth white teeth.
"I just don't understand," Eugenia mumbled, going to a chair to slouch down into it. "Why is Frederick doing all these things for me? Why?"
Clarissa placed the gown across the bed and went to Eugenia. She bent down in front of her and began to run her fingers through Eugenia's hair. "Frederick has a big heart, Eugenia," she said. "He confided in me about your plight. About how hard Hannah was working you at the hotel. He wanted to get you away from all of that. He saw in you a potential for greater things."
"Greater things?" Eugenia said softly.
Clarissa laughed. "You'll see. Later."
Remembering that Frederick had said that he lived alone made Eugenia suddenly wonder why he hadn't mentioned Clarissa. She didn't appear to be what a servant or maid should be. She spoke as eloquently as Frederick. As though she had been trained to do so… by experts.
"But you… ?" Eugenia mumbled, frowning.
Clarissa laughed lightly again, then settled herself in a chair next to Eugenia. "Myself?" she said, clasping her hands on her lap in front of her. "I came from Germany with Frederick. Many years ago."
"But he said that he lived alone," Eugenia stammered.
"He meant that he had no close family sharing this mansion with him. I am in no way related. I'm his faithful servant. Now. And ever. I would do anything for him. He rescued me from a life that was more like death. So many years ago."
"Oh, I see," Eugenia said, relaxing more, letting her shoulders droop. "But, if you're both from Germany, why don't you have more of an accent? You sound… so… so American."
Clarissa laughed once again, tilting her head sideways. Eugenia was beginning to think her even beautiful, with her dark eyes always appearing to be amused about something, as though they were laughing. "Frederick enrolled us both in school as soon as we arrived in America," Clarissa said. "We both were taught English by a professor while living in New York."
"Oh, I see," Eugenia said once again, at a loss for words.
"And don't be surprised if Frederick enrolls you in night classes," Clarissa said. "Your English is absolutely dreadful."
"I never had proper schoolin'," Eugenia said, lowering her eyes. "My Papa taught me how to read and how to count. That's 'bout all."
