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"Yes, Miss Genia."
"I wonder why."
"Normally, I don't tell gossip," Key said, picking up his knife, beginning to chop once again, almost angrily.
"What gossip, Key?"
"It was Iris and Adam," he said quietly, flashing a look in Eugenia's direction, then down again. She went to his side and looked down at him.
"What about Iris and Adam?"
"Nell caught them, well, you know…"
"Oh, God, no," Eugenia groaned, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "Not Iris and Adam."
"It was the tower room that caused it all," Key continued angrily.
Eugenia clutched onto Key's arm, squeezing it. "What tower room?" she gasped.
"The one with the opium."
"Oh, no," Eugenia groaned once again. She had given Adam charge of all the keys of the house when she left, forgetting about that room, and what was in it. "What happened? What does that room have to do with anything?"
"Adam and Iris were sampling the opium, and doing other things while Nell took her afternoon naps."
Eugenia felt as though the world was tumbling around her once again. Adam, who she had trusted? He was no different than any other man. And Iris? Sweet, sweet Iris? It was apparent that Iris had needs that by living away from the house of girls hadn't been fulfilled. But to use Adam? Nell's husband? Nell, who was supposed to be Iris's best friend?
She began to shake her
head, to clear her thoughts. "It just can't matter," she whispered. "Nell has to stay here to have her baby. And if Nell stays, so must Adam."
"Huh, Miss?"
Eugenia could feel her face reddening, realizing that she had been mumbling to herself. "Oh, nothing, Key. Nothing," she said hurriedly. "I'm going to my room. Please have one of the other servants bring me the pie and milk."
"Yes, Miss Genia."
Eugenia hurried away from Key, her heart beating wildly as her gaze searched around her, seeing her home and the plushness and comfort of it. It had been such a long, heartbreaking winter. But now she was home, and she just wasn't going to let any other news spoil her homecoming.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-four
Following Alison into the parlor of The Old Homestead Parlour, Eugenia marveled at how well Alison had handled her role of madam. She sat down leisurely in one of the red velveteen chairs, watching the girls entertaining their men callers. There was only one new face among the girls, another face of innocence, just beginning her trade as a girl, in this house of girls.
"How's Theresa making it, Alison?" Eugenia said, reaching over to push the lace of her petticoat up beneath her light blue-flowered dress of silk. It was such a hot evening she had been tempted to shed all underthings, and would have done so if she had still been living with her Mama, back where it didn't matter what a woman looked like, both day and night.
"She's working out real well, Eugenia," Alison answered. "At first, she was a bit shy. But she's loosening up a bit."
"Where did you say you found her?"
"She stepped from the stagecoach one day, all alone. I just happened along and saw her."
Eugenia silently studied this girl whose hair was cropped short, hanging straight as a boy's, black against her white skin. And her nose was so cute. As though, as a child, she had constantly wiped it with the back of the hand, permanently leaving it upturned for the rest of her life. Eugenia smiled in her direction when Theresa's large brown eyes seemed to search her out. Yes, Theresa was going to be an asset to Eugenia's house. There was just something different about her.
"Too bad about Aimee," Alison said softly, leaning back into the chair opposite Eugenia. "Just couldn't seem to get over a cold she contracted last winter. Died in a similar way to the way Dawn died. Slow, and painful."
"How horrible." Eugenia shuddered. "And Denise?"
