Eugenia's Embrace

Her eyes continued to move around her. A fire was blazing in an enormous fireplace that covered a portion of an end wall. The drapes hanging at the many windows were of a pale blue satin to match the satin-covered highback chairs and sofas clustered about the room. There were several crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, reflecting like jewels onto wooden floors that were gleaming beneath them. Then one thing in particular caught her eye. It was a piano. Actually, a square piano, with heavy legs and sides, richly carved in rosewood. Frederick's gaze followed hers. He walked to it and pressed a key, making a sound similar to a meadowlark's call, clear and fine, filling the room and making Eugenia's heart warm.

"Do you like it?" Frederick asked, running one of his pudgy hands over the designs carved on the sides.

"It's too beautiful," Eugenia sighed, putting her hands to her cheeks. She knew that she was flushed. But she didn't care. Her life was suddenly being filled with more than she could ever have imagined.

"I had this shipped from Germany," Frederick said, going to her. He pulled her hands from her face and clasped them with his.

Eugenia's smile faded when she felt the dampness of his hands. In their only two meetings she had noticed that he appeared to always be perspiring. It was most unpleasant to her. She hardly ever perspired. Only on her forehead, when she had been working in the fields. Ah, that seemed so long ago to her now. Almost as though it had never happened—even though it had been her life for so long.

"Your house is so lovely," she said, managing to get her hands free. She began to walk around the room, touching the softness of the upholstered furniture and running fingers over the smoothness of the rosewood tables placed beside each of these chairs and sofas. They each shone so brilliantly, she could almost see her reflection looking back at her.

"How many rooms do you have?" she asked, spying a spiral staircase in the far end of the room.

Frederick followed behind her, wiping his brow with a handkerchief, and working his cane along in front of him with each step taken. "The Towers houses twenty-six rooms," he answered. "Two stories of living quarters, then one housing the towers."

The towers. Eugenia was anxious to see what they looked like inside. From outside they looked so exotic; as though they had many secret tales to disclose. "Would you show me the tower rooms?" she hurriedly asked.

Frederick took her travel bag from her. "I don't believe so, Eugenia," he said glumly. "No one wanders up there. There's not much there to see."

Eugenia eyed him questionably, disappointed. Then her eyes widened as she watched Frederick open her bag and begin to pull the garments out, one at a time. She was left speechless when she watched him walk to the fireplace and begin to toss her belongings into the flames. Then when he pulled her Papa's gift of combs from the bag, she rushed to him and grabbed them from out of his hands. "What are you doin?" she asked frantically, her eyes watching her travel dress being consumed by the hungry flames.

"I plan to clothe you in silks and satins," he said, tossing another of her cotton dresses into the flames. "You will have no need of these drab clothes any longer."

Eugenia clasped onto the combs more fiercely. She would never part with them. Never. "But why didn't you ask me first? How can you take it upon yourself to destroy my own personal belongings?"

He went to her side and touched her gently on the cheek, then ran a hand upward, releasing the tight bun of hair that she had circled up on her head. "And your hair. We mustn't see it in pigtails or a tight bun any longer. One is for children, and the other is for old maids," he said, his cheeks growing rosy. Eugenia didn't know if it was from the heat of the fire—or his desire to make her do as he pleased. She was beginning to grow doubtful about the predicament that she found herself in. Was he another person to take advantage of her? Her naivete had managed to get her into nothing but trouble since she had made that first turn around the mountain's base.

"And I don't want to see it hanging loosely from around your shoulders either," he continued. "Clarissa will attend to your personal attire and pamperings."

Eugenia looked around her… not yet having seen anyone but Frederick. "Clarissa?" she asked, flipping some stray strands of hair from around her face.

"Yes, Clarissa," he said, walking to where a fluffy tassel hung on a green velvet pulley rope. He gave it a yank and then sat himself in a chair in front of the fireplace. "She will be your personal maid," he added. "You'll like her. She'll make your stay more pleasant. She'll do anything to please you."

A slight shuffling of feet drew Eugenia's attention away from Frederick.

"Did you ring, Frederick?" a slight young woman asked, walking on into the room.

"Clarissa, we have a friend to honor us with her presence," he said thickly, his eyes gleaming as he saw Clarissa and Eugenia slowly assessing one another. "Will you please take her to the room next to mine?"

Eugenia swung around to face him. "Next… to yours?" she stammered.

Frederick threw his head back and laughed, almost making the chandeliers rattle, his laughter was so booming. "No need to worry yourself," he said. "We don't have adjoining doors. I just thought you might feel more comfortable being close to me. The many rooms of my house have a way of swallowing one up. You won't be so alone this way."

"Oh. I see," Eugenia said.

Frederick rose and went to a closet, pulling a hat from a shelf. It was the same hat as the driver of the carriage wore, like a stovepipe. It made Frederick look almost comical when he placed it on his head, not fitting in at all well with his wide stomach and squatty legs. Then she watched as he slipped on white gloves.

"I must leave for now," he said. "I have to check to see how things are going at the opera house. They're performing the Der Freischutz tonight."

Eugenia's eyebrows tilted. "What does that mean?" she asked.

Frederick's laughter boomed once again. "It's a romantic German musical drama, my dear. The title means 'one who uses magic bullets.' One day I'll explain in detail about the whole meaning."

Eugenia smiled awkwardly, realizing what a complex man she was in the company of.

"You go ahead and retire when you please, Eugenia," he said further, tapping his walking cane nervously against the wooden floor. "I'll be gone for some time. You'll be sure to be comfortable in the room that I have chosen for you."

"Yes, sir," she said softly.