SEVEN

I slipped on my robe and tied the waist cord. "Yes?"

"It's me, Adam – Sibella."

"Well, this is a bit of a surprise," I said after opening the door. I'd expected that if someone knocked on my door late at night, it would be Sara, the upstairs maid. She wasn't a particularly pretty woman but she did have a full bosom and wide hips and had twice brushed up against me, looking sideways at me both times. I was tempted to give her a quick tumble, to feel the heat of her cunt and to pillow my head on those ample breasts, but I was a guest in the Atherton home and so declined to insult my host by fucking his staff. Manners can be quite the joy-kill.

But it was lovely Sibella, standing before me in a white silk nightshift and a yellow satin robe. The dressing gown fell open enough to show the outline of her firm breasts under the thin fabric. She knew I would notice, so I didn't even have to politely pretend I wasn't looking at her stiff nipples. But suddenly her brazenness deserted her and she wrapped the robe closer about her.

"You left early, Adam, and I wanted to apologize for my poor behavior," she said. "I was…rude."

"Apology accepted but after a good night's sleep, I'd be more charitable toward you," I said. "Now, if that's it…" I started to close the door but Sibella put out her hand as if to stay it.

"You're leaving in the morning, aren't you?" She seemed anxious, looking down the hall.

Something was up – and not just me and the beginnings of a subtle erection that threatened to assert itself more aggressively—Sibella was scheming. "Yes. Early. Why?"

"Take me with you, will you?"

I chuckled. "No, Sibella, I won't, although it is an interesting prospect. Now, goodnight."

"Adam…please, may I step inside? I don't want my parents to know I'm here. Things are bad enough as it is."

"That's because you shouldn't be here, Sibella. You're just asking for trouble. Now, goodnight." I started to close the door again but Sibella protested.

"Please, Adam! I had a horrible argument with my parents and…may I come in?"

I sighed. I was tired and although she was a delicious sight, there was nothing I could do about it. But I stepped aside, motioning to indicate she should pass. I tightened the cord about my waist and waited. "Okay, talk."

"My mother wants me to marry – to be nothing more than a pious, submissive wife, only concerned with pleasing her husband and raising a passel of children. She says she's afraid for me, afraid that I'll be lonely, unfulfilled, never know the love of a man or the joys of motherhood…"

"I think all mothers, all parents worry about their child's happiness, their child's future. Your parents are no different than anyone else's, but I fail to see how this concerns me."

"Take me with you," she said. Sibella was obviously nervous, her voice breathy. "I think I'd be better off with you than Alan and if I stay, well she has plans for me."

Now I had to laugh and she quickly made signs I should hush.

"Look, if you want to run away from home, fine, but don't involve me, Sibella. Now if you don't mind, it's late…"

"My father said this evening that you needed a wife." She waited for my response.

I almost said that it was none of her father's goddamn business what I "needed" nor hers and that she needed to turn her firm little ass around and leave, or fall on my bed and spread her legs. I had no other use for her there in my room. But I considered that my first inclination wasn't the most diplomatic. And I realized that Sibella was calculating; she knew that we both were being pressured to marry and that we may be the answer to each other's dilemma. So, I spoke with measured words.

"I don't need a wife, but there are others who think it would confer respectability."

"I don't need a husband either but, well, if we married, then I could…well, I've been thinking about it for hours, how it would work to benefit us both – our marrying, that is. See, we could marry and then I'd be able to leave here and start a life of my own. You know, a married woman is far more respectable than a spinster. After a while, I could go to New York or Baltimore and work with, well, I think I'd like to work towards women's suffrage." She looked up at me, trembling with anticipation and excitement. "We could live separately since you don't love me nor I you - we could have separate lives…." Her voice drifted off.

"Quite the plan. And it is logical, I have to give you that. We marry, make everyone happy, and then live our separate lives and make ourselves happy. Is that it?"

"More or less." She seemed to have trouble taking a deep breath. "I wouldn't even need your money, that is, if you give me what my father would give to you. I mean you told my father that you didn't want to the money…" It seemed she suddenly felt she had revealed too much. Apparently, Mr. Atherton had filled her in on our conversation in his efforts to promote me as a husband. "My father thinks you would be a good husband in that you're older and wealthy and…It would make him happy if we would marry."

"Would it now? And that's your only reason for marrying, to make your parents happy. How magnanimous you are, Sibella. Willing to endure the stifling yoke of matrimony for a few thousands – hardly adequate payment, I would think." I moved closer and Sibella backed away, her eyes widening.

She began to talk nervously. "Marriage is a business transaction of sorts, isn't it? We give each other respectability and…and…stop laughing at me!"

I had been grinning; Sibella was a conniving little wench. "All right, Sibella," I said moving closer. She had to stop because she was pressed against the high wooden footboard. "You may have something there. We'll marry tomorrow before I leave – or should I say, we leave. What say you?"

"I…all right. All right, yes. We'll marry but this isn't how I pictured…"

"What?" I feigned shock. "Not how you thought it would go? Didn't I behave the way you expected? Let me guess." I was close enough to feel the warmth of her breath on my chest for that's only how tall she was. "Was I supposed to be overjoyed at the prospect of marrying you, to drop to my knees and propose and then cover your small, pale hand with kisses…like this." I picked up one hand and began to kiss it. She jerked it away.

"No, that's not…why do you always take everything I say and.."

"Was I supposed to kiss you, Sibella? Like this?" I have to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed pulling a trembling Sibella to me and kissing her, sweet, sweet mouth, gently forcing apart those lush, pink lips with my tongue, compelling them to open for me and they did; Sibella surrendered her mouth to me. And as I kissed her, she actually became limp in my arms, and it would have been so easy to lift her up and lay her down and take my pleasure. Oh, I was sorely tempted. But I didn't. I released her and when I did, her knees slightly buckled. I had to grab for her and hold her up.

"I need to go…" she said breathlessly, pulling her dressing gown more tightly closed, pushing her hair back from her face. "In the morning…we…I think I'll pack now – now." She hurried to the door and opened it. It was like watching a frightened wild deer run. Then she turned to me, her blue eyes wide. "This isn't a joke, is it? You're not going to laugh at me in the morning, are you?"

"No, Sibella, it's not a joke and I'm not going to laugh at you." She nodded, then raised a hand to her mouth and touched her swollen lips. Oh, my Sibella, I think that one gesture, you touching your violated mouth, won my heart. But I couldn't tell you then because I wasn't quite sure of it myself.

~ 0 ~

Sibella's mother wept at the news that her daughter was going to marry, that I had successfully asked for her hand. She kissed me on the cheek and patted my arm and then dabbed her eyes again but I felt she wished it were Alan who stood before her as her future son-in-law. But then I had doubts myself about the situation. I wondered just why I had agreed to marry Sibella.

"You've made me a very happy father, Adam!" Francis Atheron clapped me on the shoulder, smiling broadly and shaking my hand as if it was a pump handle. "Your own father will be as well – I know it. And as for the money I promised, I'll run to the bank and get a draft and also bring back the clerk of courts as well as the money. The ceremony can be performed right here. It's not the wedding of her mother's dreams, but it will serve. But before I go, let's celebrate with a drink, son."

He and I went into his office and raised a glass of his best whiskey to celebrate. I told him to have the draft made out to Sibella. He hesitated but agreed.

"You're going to be her husband and if you think it's best Sibella should have the money, I'll abide by your decision. But you know that old saying about a fool and his money? Well, a woman and her money are parted even quicker! You'll need to keep ahold of her purse-strings so she doesn't spend everything on new dresses, hats and gee-gaws."

While Mrs. Atherton and the cook, as well as the maids rushed about the house making celebratory arrangements, I left for town with Mr. Atherton; I had to change my ticket for a later stage and purchase one for Sibella as well. I promised Atherton I'd be back at the house by 11:00 so after a trip to the stage depot, I went to one of the saloons and had two beers and a few quick hands of poker with two men who may have been cardsharps. I lost and lost badly and any other time I probably could have caught them at their game, but I couldn't keep my mind on the cards; I kept thinking of Sibella and Donna who expected me to stop in Carson City, and wondering if I could juggle both women.

Anyway, I kept my word, was back at the house by 11:00, married and the proper forms signed by 11:20, and then we had the cake that the cook had managed to bake. The icing had mostly slid off the top because the cake was still slightly warm. Mrs. Atherton still quietly wept through the whole thing as did the cook and two of the three housemaids. The one called Sara who turned down my sheets and changed the towels in my room, winked at me and smiled slyly. Maybe she thought I'd like a quick lay before I took off with Sibella, and I would have, but thought better of it. I could just see Atherton walk in to tell me it was time to leave and I'd have Sara pinned against the wall, shaking the pictures with my thrusting. The consequences would be tragic - Sara would be fired.

Mr. Atherton gave me the generous draft made out to "Mrs. Sibella Victoria Cartwright" as I had requested. I stared at the name and it hit me that I had a wife. And a wealthy one at that. Then he talked at great length about how pleased he was and what life had been like once he married, about how children can be a mixed blessing. He acknowledged that Sibella could be obstinate and had certain progressive ideas she would lose soon enough once she became a mother. I pulled out my pocket watch and told him that it was time Sibella and I left for the depot; the stage would be pulling out in a little under an hour.

"Of course, of course, son." He patted me gingerly on the arm.

I was about to head up the stairs to bring down my valise when Mrs. Atherton called to me and I turned.

"Adam, I…I'm not sure how to say this to you…" She paused and then the words came out quickly. "I know you're more experienced than Sibella. She may talk as if she's sophisticated, but I've never really had a talk with her about marriage and the demands of a husband."

She sat down as if she couldn't stand anymore. "This isn't easy for me to talk about, but I hope…I love my daughter and I thought she and Alan would marry one day. Alan is such a fine young man and so lovely but she's chosen you and I understand why. I mean a handsome face and wealth and a certain attractive masculinity – don't misunderstand me, but even I'm aware of it. I've had to chastise Sara for lingering in your room far too long after cleaning it, in the hopes of your coming in while she's still there. Oh, she denied it, but I've watched her and she does have a reputation among the stable hands.

"And as for Sibella, you will be gentle with her, won't you? She's not like Sara – knowledgeable and such - and will be shocked to find out what happens on the wedding night and…I worry about her so. She's always pretended to be much stronger than she really is and I know that you don't love her…"

"Mrs. Atherton, I am fond of Sibella – believe that. And I promise to be kind to her. You don't have to worry. Of course, I hope you'll visit and see for yourself. And should things not work out between us, should Sibella be unhappy, well, she's financially independent and can return anytime she chooses or go anywhere she likes. She really doesn't need me for anything. Now don't worry so much although I know it's a mother's nature."

I reached out and took her hands, helping her from the chair. Then I leaned over and kissed her cheek. She looked up at me, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Thank you, Adam. Take care of my daughter. I may have spoiled and indulged Sibella, but I love her so."

TBC