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"I think I might," she answered.
"Well?"
"You could hide in one of the tower rooms for a few days," she said hurriedly, her eyes dancing with anticipation.
"What the hell are you talkin' bout, woman?" Drew growled, searching his jacket pockets, until he pulled a cigarette from one.
Eugenia's eyes settled on the large white house at the end of the street, again, at this moment, as so many times before, feeling it unbelievable that she was a part of its existence. Her eyes moved up to the many towers on its roof. Surely Drew could hide there safely until the sheriff gave up his hunt. "The house called The Towers?" she murmured, "I live there. And you…"
Drew interrupted her, stopping to grasp onto her shoulders. His cigarette glowed orange on its tip, and hung limply from the corner of his mouth, bouncing as he talked. "You live there?" he gasped, looking with concern at Eugenia, then toward The Towers. "I heard rumors that that German bastard had a red-headed beauty livin' with him. But I'd never guessed it would be you."
Eugenia's face reddened as she jerked from his hold. Forgetting the proper English that she had been so carefully tutored in these past weeks, her anger flared. "It ain't what you 'spect it to be," she snapped, tilting her nose up into the air.
Drew threw his head back with laughter. "Now that sounds more like the Eugenia I remember," he teased.
"Huh?" Eugenia said, then giggled when she realized what she'd done. She brushed some more snowflakes from her skirt and let her gaze meet his. "Honest, Drew," she said softly. "I only live there. Nothing more."
Stepping back away from her, his eyes swept over her figure, her clothing, and her grand manner. No
thing like the girl he had made love to on the lower slopes of the mountain that one night. "But you've changed so," he said hoarsely. "How can you account for it all?"
It wasn't what Eugenia wanted to hear. She didn't want to think about people questioning "why." She had so much. She would surely lose it. "I really don't know," she said softly, her eyes wide.
"That son of a bitch probably has plans for you that you can't even imagine," Drew growled, flipping his cigarette into the snow. Eugenia watched the orange glow fade away to a nothingness, feeling this also beginning to happen inside herself. Was Drew right? Did Frederick have some hidden schemes that he hadn't set to work yet? But she couldn't bother herself with worries about that now. She had Drew to think of. She had to get him to safety.
Eugenia lifted her skirt and began to move through the snow once again, her heart pounding harder with each step taken. She had no idea how she was going to carry this off, but she had to. She eyed the grayness of the sky. It was fast being replaced by dark clouds of night. Her mind was working a mile a minute. "First you'll hide in the stables," she said. "Then, later, when I know Frederick is at the Opera House, I'll come out and get you. Then I'll take you up to a tower room."
"What's in those tower rooms?" Drew asked, his eyes looking upward, seeing the windows, so bleak and colorless.
"I don't know," Eugenia said. "Frederick hasn't ever let me see."
Drew laughed darkly. "I bet that ol' German has much to hide. This could prove interestin'."
Eugenia stopped and faced Drew, her brows tilting downward. "Drew, you'll have to be the quietest," she said, wondering what Frederick would be capable of if he discovered Drew there.
"I will, hon," he answered. "I didn't mean to worry you."
A fleeting glance toward the house showed lights beginning to be lit, first one room, then to another. Eugenia looked up to the second-story windows, feeling relief. Her room was still dark and so was Frederick's, which meant he hadn't returned home yet.
"We must hurry," she said. "Follow me around to the back of the house. We'll go into the stables. Frederick never goes in there."
"But what about the stable hands?"
"This time of evening, they're probably having fun in town. Mornings are their busiest times."
Eugenia swung the double doors open wide. "Hurry, Drew," she said. He followed in behind her. She looked around and saw that she had guessed right. Nobody was to be seen, and all that could be heard was the scuffling of a few horses' hoofs and an occasional wheeze or neigh.
"Now, go on up in the hayloft," she added, pointing to some steps that led straight up through a hole in the ceiling. "It shouldn't be too cold up there." In one fast movement, she felt herself drawn into his arms. His hard, lean body was pressing against hers and there was an urgency in his lips as they crushed against hers.
"Oh, my love," he crooned, his fingers searching beneath her cape, finding her breasts. "How I've dreamed of our being together again," he said.
Eugenia could feel the warmth of his fingers now at the buttons down her back. She sucked in her breath, almost forgetting where she was as the waves of excitement rippled through her. But the sound of a carriage approaching awakened her to the reality of "now"—the present—and what dangers there were in losing one's head in a frenzy of passion. The fulfillment could come later. Even tonight. The thought of it made her grow weak in the knees. But she managed to pull away from him. She put her forefinger to his lips, her eyes devouring him, loving his every feature. "You must go. Now," she whispered. "I shall return. And soon."
He pulled her back into his arms, touching a breast possessively. "And then, my love. I'll show you once more what it's like to be a woman."
"Yes, yes," she whispered, then pulled her cape closely around her, not bothering to button up her dress. She closed the stable doors and hurried toward the back door of The Towers, stopping first to peer through a window to see if Clarissa was to be seen. She smiled when her gaze only found faithful Kiyomasu at his usual duties. She knew that her secret could be safe with him. But how could she get all the way upstairs without Clarissa seeing her. She remembered having heard a carriage, and knew that Frederick had returned home. His usual habit was to immediately go to his room to freshen up, with Clarissa assisting him with his bath. She frowned. It was her luck, it seemed, that Frederick would be having supper with her this evening. On the evenings that he did rarely return home before going to the Opera House, she could eat her supper, then retire to her room, unnoticed. But now, when she had Drew to hide and protect? Why was Frederick so unpredictable at times?
Swinging her skirt and petticoats up into her arms, she rushed through the back door, smiled a friendly smile toward Kiyomasu, then inched her way along the hallway until she got to the staircase. She stopped and listened. Yes, Frederick was in his room. She could hear the faintness of a record being played in the privacy of his room. Another opera, which would drown out her quickening footsteps up the staircase.
