One thing I ask, if you think you know whodunnit, please don't put it in a review - even at the end. You can PM me but, well, would Agatha Christie have given away the reveal of the guilty party before its time? I think not - not that I am in her league, but I won't tell either!

VI

As soon as Sibella and Adam entered their house, they were greeted by Noah in his feet bare and wearing his sleeping gown. The child laughed and held up his arms to his "Papa", raising himself on tip-toe. Adam swept the child up in his arms, held him almost with desperation, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Ow!" Noah said as Adam's rough stubble abraded his tender skin.

"Sorry, son. I'll let your mother take you while I go shave." He handed the child to Sibella and took to the stairs. It was an hour before they had to be at the Ponderosa and although that was a brief time for Sibella who would probably make them late, he wanted to be shaved and dressed on time.

As he stood shirtless at the shaving stand, Sibella came in the bedroom. Even though he could see her in the mirror, he stopped and turned to her.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready? We don't have much time."

Sibella glanced at the suit jacket hanging on the wooden valet, Adam's wallet, pocket watch and such in the tray. Mme. Adair's letters were still in the jacket's pocket along with the tintype. Sibella hadn't yet read the letters and her curiosity was getting the better of her good intentions.

"I know you don't feel up to it, Adam. We can stay home; I don't mind. A few grains of laudanum will help your headache." Although Sibella was truly sympathetic when Adam had a headache and became defeated by the pain, she also considered that with Adam deeply asleep, not only wouldn't he be enduring the agony but she could read the pilfered letters and consider the contents. On the ride home from Virginia City, Adam had said that he would determine if they held any important information but no matter what, he would turn them over to Roy Coffee. Sibella sulked but Adam didn't seem to notice. It must be a terrible headache Sibella surmised, for Adam to ignore her snit.

"No," Adam said. "It's not yet that bad and maybe if I eat something, I'll feel better."

"By not that bad, you mean your head hasn't yet exploded," Sibella said, coming up behind him. She wrapped her arms about him, laying one cheek against his broad back. "I was the one who insisted we go so I'll get dressed." She looked around him to see his reflection, his lower face still partly covered by lather. "But tonight, we can leave whenever you choose. Remember that. And I hope you're not going just for me."

Adam looked into the mirror and their eyes met in the glass. "Sibella, I do everything for you, for you and Noah. You should know that by now."

~ 0 ~

Hoss took Sibella's heavy cape and complimented her on how pretty she looked, kissing her on the cheek. And Sibella knew she did. Mrs. George had helped her with her hair. As there was no time for a crimping iron, Mrs. George had pulled her hair back and up, then wound sections of hair about two fingers and pinned them. A decorative, jeweled comb finished the look. They considered spraying the piled curls with sugar-water to keep them stiff but Sibella decided against it; it might attract night insects. Besides, Adam detested the stickiness it gave her hair. Instead they used a net that was practically invisible against her dark hair.

And her dress, although low in the neck, wasn't too low. The deep V-neck was simple with ruffles of the same fabric, and the sleeves, slightly past the elbows, had two ruffles at the end – the deep violet of the dress and above it, an ecru lace ruffle that was reflected in the draping on the over-skirt. And when Adam had kissed her before they left the house, she could see in his eyes that he admired her.

"Why thank you, Hoss."

"Sorry we're late, Pa," Adam said, removing his hat. The rifle he had brought along was tucked under the buggy seat; he had seen no reason to bring it into the house. "Like a woman, Sibella took too long dressing."

"Well, it was well-worth the time spent. Sibella, you are lovely," Ben said, genuinely happy to see them both. "Adam – Sibella, let me introduce you to our guests."

Sibella glanced about and when she saw the woman whose bosom was straining against the bodice of her dress, her abundant breasts almost spilling over the low neck of the deep green dress, she turned to Adam. He had noticed the woman immediately and jealousy gripped her; Adam was actually looking at another woman and from what she could tell, he appreciated the view. Sibella wished she had worn the dress with the lower neck; then Adam wouldn't look anywhere else but at her décolletage.

Mr. Philpot, the railroad man, smiled, his girth pulling at the buttons on his fancy brocade weskit. He said he was glad to see Sibella and shook Adam's hand, happy to see him again.

"And it's good to see you again, Mrs. Cartwright," Mr. Hancock said, holding Sibella's outstretched gloved hand and touching it with his lips. "These circumstances are much more pleasant than those this morning."

"What?" Ben asked, confused. "Did something happen this morning?"

"Oh, I didn't mean to bring up anything disagreeable," Mr. Hancock said. "It's just that…"

"I'll tell you about it later, Pa," Adam said. "You haven't yet introduced me to your 'old friend', I believe is what Mrs. George said."

The old friend was Colonel Tucker Fitzhugh, "and this is his wife, Mrs. Fitzhugh. My eldest, Adam and his wife, Sibella. You remember Colonel Fitzhugh, don't you, Adam?"

"Yes, of course. You were stationed at Fort Churchill," Adam said, shaking the Colonel's hand. "We supplied Fort Churchill with timber and beef. Matter of fact, I drew that rough sketch of the layout, where the store and headquarters should be."

"Yes, Yes, I was at Fort Churchill. Those damn Indians – caused more trouble to us than the rebs did during the war. But I'm surprised you recognize me. Not the man I used to be – I'm twice the man I used to be!" He laughed, making light of his weight, his double chins vibrating. He raised the cut-crystal glass of bourbon and then emptied it with one swig. He seemed to suddenly noticed Sibella. "Glad to make your acquaintance Mrs. Cartwright. Lovely, you're really lovely. I have been hearing delightful stories about how clever and wonderful young Noah is."

"Why thank you," Sibella said. "He is wonderful if I say so myself. Do you have any grandchildren, Colonel?" Sibella felt awkward and asked the only polite response that came to her. She felt off-balance in the situation. Usually she was the center of male attention but the other woman, although much older, seemed to exude an unrestrained sexuality.

"No, no children, unfortunately. My first wife, God bless her, and I had no children. But, my darling Fanny," the Colonel nodded his head in her direction, "she has a daughter in San Francisco who I've never met. That's where we're traveling, to see Rosemary and her new baby. So, I thought since we had to come this way anyway, I'd stop by to see my old acquaintance, Ben Cartwright." The Colonel suddenly went silent and then, as if to punctuate that the conversation was over, he moved to the center of the room. "Would you mind refreshing my drink, Ben?" The Colonel held out his glass while Ben reached for the decanter and poured another drink.

"So, you're Ben's eldest," Mrs. Fitzhugh said from her seat in one of the chairs flanking the fireplace. She indolently put out one gloved arm, the wrist laced with jeweled bracelets, the diamonds and rubies and sapphires glittering.

"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Fitzhugh," Adam said smiling.

"Oh please," she said smiling slyly as Adam bent down to take her hand in his, "call me Fanny." She raised her chin, offering Adam a better view of her bosom. The diamond necklace she wore had one, large teardrop pearl at its center that seemed to direct a man's gaze to the deep, lush valley between her breasts. She held Adam's hand a heartbeat too long and Sibella glanced about to see if she was the only one discomfited. "When you smile, Adam, you look like a pirate who's just ravished the young virgin and delighted in the act." Adam laughed.

Hoss was standing, his hands in his jacket pockets, looking at the floor. Mr. Philpot was also standing, swirling the brandy in the snifter he held, and Mr. Hancock seemed as unfazed as did Colonel Fitzhugh at the obvious flirtatious action and the inappropriate comment from Mrs. Fitzhugh. But Ben seemed to notice, cleared his throat, and asked Sibella to sit and could he get her a drink. Some sherry, perhaps? Sibella accepted and Adam asked for a whiskey and then, left Fanny and sat beside Sibella on the settee.

They made pleasant conversation, Adam asking about Joe – where was he? Hoss answered that Joe had cut the low card, "so right 'bout now he's probably scraping burnt beans off a tin plate, drinking scorched coffee and smellin' nothin' but them stinkin' beeves." He guffawed and then realized that it wasn't proper conversation for mixed company and quickly apologized.

Hop Sing, wearing his best tangzhuang and his leather slippers, proudly announced dinner.

Ben sat at one end of the long table, Adam at the other, while Fanny Fitzhugh sat on one side of the table between Hoss and Mr. Hancock who insisted everyone call him Archie. Sibella was put between Mr. Philpot and Colonel Fitzhugh who repeatedly helped himself to the decanter of red wine, complimenting Ben on the vintage burgundy from Bourgogne. Fanny Fitzhugh seemed not to notice her husband's excessive drinking but she did make a show of removing her elbow length gloves and all the men watched as if she was disrobing. And Sibella watched Adam.

During the soup course, Sibella attempted to make polite conversation with the Colonel who was on her left as she had been taught, but either the Colonel wasn't aware of dinner party etiquette or he just wasn't interested in talking. Finally, Ben noticed that Mrs. Fitzhugh seemed to be having a private conversation with Archie – at least that's what Sibella surmised as Ben, bypassing Hoss whose only interest was the tender slices of roast beef and small, buttered potatoes which he mashed with the back of his fork, brought up San Francisco and what a pleasant place it was to visit as long as one avoided the waterfront. And then they discussed the opera house, the magnificent restaurants, the headquarters of the railroad company and many other interesting aspects of the city including Nob Hill.

Sibella basically sat back and listened while she picked at her food, not really hungry, and watched how Fanny Fitzhugh kept glancing at Adam, even once slightly raising her wineglass to him. But the worst was that Adam acknowledged her by raising his glass in return, the light from the chandelier glittering off the cuts in the crystal like the diamonds Fanny wore. Sibella felt completely ignored and she didn't like the feeling. But worst was that she was outshone by this woman who blatantly displayed her assets and flirted with Archie Hancock and Adam – her Adam. And the Colonel didn't even seem to care.

Dessert was served in the great room along with coffee. Ben escorted Sibella to the area and Adam took Fanny's arm. She handed him her gloves which she hadn't slid back on, and placed her bare hand over his arm, and smiled up at him. Sibella watched his face – actually Adam's eyes – and noted that he was admiring her rounded bosoms that threatened to spill out over the lace-trimmed neck of her dress.

Sibella raged inside, passed on dessert but sat stiff-backed, as any proper lady would, sipping her coffee. But Fanny Fitzhugh lounged in the chair she chose, as if she was accepting company in her boudoir and instead of coffee, she took another glass of sherry.

"Now, what is all this about 'meeting in more pleasant circumstances'," Ben asked, looking at Archie. "What happened this morning?"