FIVE

Mr. Atherton was correct when he told me the house would be in an uproar preparing for the party. He said that Sibella and her mother would argue over every detail, the cook would threaten to quit every five minutes, and the maids would be running for cover if they didn't follow instructions exactly or left any smudge of silver polish on the flatware or silver coffee service.

As far as himself, Mr. Atherton said that he usually hid in his office all day, only coming out to relieve himself or grab a little something from the kitchen. Thank goodness, he said, the cook had a soft spot for him (thanks to a generous Christmas bonus every year) and always squirreled away a few sandwiches so he wouldn't starve. I was invited to join him in his hibernation but I declined, choosing instead to cash a draft and spend the long afternoon gambling in one of the better gambling parlors in Sacramento City.

I had a pleasant afternoon playing poker – I stay away from games such as faro where I have no control - and won a little over twice as much as my original stake. I had a light dinner in a restaurant downtown, observing the coming and goings of other diners while I finished my coffee. By then, darkness was coming on and I headed back to the Athertons' to change clothes for the party. I found my suit had been brushed and pressed and my shoes shined and waiting. I could get used to such.

The main room of the house along with the dining room were decorated with every Chinese lantern within ten miles, I'm sure. It was grand, much grander than any party at the Ponderosa but then we didn't have the delicate woman's hand to guide us on how to hang the garlands or arrange the vases of flowers. And since I joined the party later than the other guests, choosing to lay back and think on my plans to leave on the morrow before I dressed, having also checked the stageline schedule while I was in town, the house was filled with lovely young women all dressed in their ruffles and lace, smiles on their sweet faces – but then all women that young are lovely, merely because they are young and haven't yet been affected by the burdens of life. There were also many young men, all younger than I, in their dress coats and striped pants, dancing or eating or plying their charms on the girls around them. I remembered when I was that young and felt nostalgic for those day which surprised me; I never thought about the past as nothing can be changed and there I was, remembering when the world seemed new and fresh.

Mr. Atherton waved me over.

"I have a flask of bourbon – if you get your punch, I'll spike it for you," he said leaning in conspiratorially.

"If you don't mind." I said, "and tell me if you do – I'd rather have another glass of that Appleton rum."

"Oh, Adam, if only you'd marry Sibella. I couldn't want more in a son-in-law. You appreciate the better things in life – like a room of one's own and good rum. Let's go have a glass – perhaps a cigar." He pulled one out of his pocket and handed it to me.

We were about to turn and leave when Sibella came over and took my arm. "Oh, Adam, you're leaving my party already? I know my father hides in his office to avoid such gatherings but you're surely not as disinterested as he!"

"Being disinterested in a party and disinterested in you are two very different things," I said to her and she glanced up at me, a half-smile on her face. And then I heard the music start and the guests, laughing and talking, went into the great room where the larger pieces of furniture had been removed and the lesser pieces, relegated to the wall. The scent of white flowers filled the room – or it was just Sibella – and a chandelier lit the room and the dancers underneath it.

Sibella led me over to a group pf her friends and introduced me. One of the young women, a very lovely young woman – Brenda - asked me to dance. No sooner did one dance end than I had another partner. I knew better than to flatter myself by thinking it was because I was light on my feet. I'm merely competent on the dance floor, and I had the suspicion that Sibella may have told her friends about me. What it might be, I had no idea but she watched me as she swirled about on the dance floor, a half-smile on her face. And finally, she came to me.

"Come dance with me, Adam. You see how nice I've become? I asked, not demanded."

"You can demand anything of me and it would be a pleasure to obey," I said, leading her out on the dance floor. She moved easily and I wondered how easily she could be led off the dance floor as well.

The dance ended and as we applauded the musicians. Sibella slipped her arm through mine and said, "Let's go outside, Adam. The heat and noise is becoming too much – I need some cool air." So, as we headed for the exit, I felt another hand touch my arm, but it was less insistent. I turned, and saw Alan.

"I haven't had a chance to talk to you yet – you've been dancing so much - but I was hoping that we could discuss the army. I think I'd like to join. My parents want to keep me sheltered and I…" Alan glanced at Sibella. "That is if you don't mind, Sibella."

"I promise to bring Adam back shortly," she said to a disappointed Alan, and with her arm more firmly through mine, we continued out through the solarium which was lit by multiple lamps making that room even more pleasant. Many of the windows were open and I would have been content to stay there but Sibella guided me out to the back. I only mention the conditions of the solarium because it's important to the following events.

"It is lovely out here at night, don't you think, Adam?" Sibella stepped away from me and did a turn on the grass, her skirts floating out about her. "I am so tired of dancing inside – we should have held the dance outside, on the lawn."

I searched my mind to remember the lines of a poem; "I said to the lily, 'There is but one with whom she has heart to be gay. When will the dancers leave her alone? She is weary of dance and play'."

She smiled and gave a small laugh. "What poem is that from, Adam? I don't think I've ever heard it." She swayed closer to me.

"A poem by Tennyson. There are a few more lines that seem fitting – "She is coming, my own, my sweet; were it ever so airy a tread, my heart would hear her and beat, were it earth in an earthy bed."

"What's it about, the poem?"

"A man who's waiting in the garden for the woman he loves." I watched her closely; Sibella was being too nice.

"Oh, I see. I've never had a man recite poetry to me before."

"That's hardly reciting it. Those are just a few lines I remember – there are quite a few more I don't."

Sibella shivered and put her arms about herself as she stepped closer. "It's a bit chilly. Would you put your arms about me? I'm sure I'll stay warm then, and perhaps, well, if I asked you to kiss me, Adam, if I…" She turned her face up, her lips parted, her eyes closing in anticipation.

I laughed – I couldn't help myself - and her eyes flew open. "Are you flirting with me, Sibella? Trying to seduce me?" I grinned down at her. "I would've expected better from you than leading questions and moist lips."

"What do you mean – better from me? I know why you're here - to marry me. My father's convinced my mother of it as well. They think I need a strong hand."

"And you, Sibella, what do you think?" I couldn't help but smile at her and her pursed mouth and furrowed brow; apparently, I had spoiled her game.

"I…I think…well, I don't care to be married!" She stood up straight and her jaw jutted upward.

"Then we both agree on something; I don't care to be married either – or I would be by now. But, Sibella, that doesn't mean we can't kiss…or more. After all, aren't you forward-thinking? Didn't I hear you espouse that marriage is out-of-date and that free love, sex without emotional consequences is the wave of the future?" I reached for her and wrapped one arm about her small waist, pulling her closer. She resisted. "Surely you believe in mutual pleasure and I think I might find it pleasurable to kiss you – but I'll never know until…" I embraced her and bent her over my arm, first running my lips up her pale, white throat and then took her mouth. She yielded and her lips softened and parted and her small arms went about my neck. It was pleasurable and she turned liquid in my arms, all resistance gone. I think I could have taken her in the grass, just pushed up her skirts and had her but I'm not that much of a cad. This was a game and I wanted to win – not destroy.

Then I released her and she stumbled slightly; I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me again. "I did enjoy that," I said, grinning at her wide-eyed look. I waited but Sibella, her breathing uneven, said nothing. Then she pulled away. At first, I thought she was going to return to the house, but then she swung about again.

I leaned against a tree while she stood, thinking what she was going to say, her bosom heaving. She made a delectable picture and I enjoying seeing this passionate side of Sibella, even if the passion was anger.

"You think you're quite the man, don't you," she sneered. "Well, I've kissed many a man and I've been the aggressor. What do you think of that?"

I smiled, considering if I should kiss her again. The moonlight made Sibella's pale skin luminous, and her blue eyes, darker. Or maybe it was her anger that did it.

"I think you've only met men who find you intimidating and are willing to dance to your tune no matter how ridiculous."

"Oh, really? Well, that just shows how little you know."

I had to laugh again.

"And what's so funny?"

"Oh, Sibella, you're so young and yet by your age, most women are wedded and bedded and a mother."

"You're right, and I don't want to be?"

"What? Wedded, bedded or the mother part?"

"Oh, you're infuriating! You think you're so clever and know everything – so smug!"

"Then why is it, Sibella, that none of those young men in the other room are out here with you but I am? You're beautiful, intelligent, your father's wealthy…why aren't any of them courting you, trying to corner you and steal some kisses, whispering in your ear what they'd like to do with you?" I approached her. She took a step back. "Why aren't any of those men making your pulse race by running their hands over you? Do you discourage them? Are you afraid, Sibella? Is that why you have Alan constantly at your side – to discourage suitors and ensure your chastity?"

"How dare you say such things to me? To me? And as far as Alan…well, he's quite taken with you, you know. I think he sees something in you that…." She became silent.

"Go on, Sibella. Finish what you were going to say."

"No. It was going to be a lie…and hurtful to Alan. If it was going to hurt just you, I might say it –and with pleasure. But Alan, he's such a kind, gentle…but he does admire you, Adam. I think he may even be in love with you."

"And?"

"And nothing! I imagine you're used to all sorts of people being in love with you, aren't you, Adam? Both men and women. Do even the cattle follow your lead as if you're some pied piper? Is that how you herd them?"

"Actually, I play the guitar, serenade them, and they follow, mooing along in tune." Sibella was trying very hard to insult me but it was like fighting with a child; one just has to put out one's hand to stay them and no matter how they swat and swing, they never land a punch.

"OH!" Sibella stomped one small foot, her hands in fists. "I'm going back in where I can have some civilized conversation. Aren't you going to come in and charm those you haven't yet met? There must be at least one or two. Or maybe you want to work on charming one of the upstairs maids? When Sara comes to turn down your bed, maybe you can turn her upside down!"

I laughed even more. "Oh, Sibella, you really are a piece of work. No, I think I'll just take a turn about the property and smoke a cigar. The lawn is lovelier by moonlight – just as you are. Things are so different in the cold light of day, aren't they? All the flaws are exposed."

She huffed and turned and stomped her way back to the house and into the solarium. I decided I would save my cigar to accompany the rum. I returned to the house but halfway there, I saw that Alan had been waiting for Sibella. She stopped short when she saw him and although they couldn't see me, I could see them, see Alan's face – and Sibella's. Through the open windows, their voices drifted outside to where I stood, wondering if I should stay and listen or make my presence known. I decided to listen. I might learn a thing or two, hopefully about Sibella. She had begun to intrigue me and although her father's wealth held no draw for me, Sibella did.

TBC