1

"Two men to see you, ma'am," the housekeeper said.

Mrs. Adam Cartwright stood up. She wasn't tall but the way she carried herself and her slender frame made her seem taller. "Please send them in; I don't suppose they have calling cards."

"No, ma'am." The small, plump, gray-haired woman turned to leave but Mrs. Cartwright called her back.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do they look like coffee or whiskey, Mrs. Fontaine?"

"Whiskey, ma'am."

"Then have Amanda bring in coffee. And a plate of butter cookies. I may as well be as gracious as possible since I am my husband's representative, so to speak."

"Yes, ma'am." The housekeeper smiled to herself while shaking her head in amusement. She had worked for Mrs. Cartwright when she was the former Mrs. Lafferty and she was well familiar with her mistress' cleverness. Mr. Lafferty had been no match for his brilliant wife, often left wondering what had occurred right under his nose but Adam Cartwright, he saw right through her and yet he had still wanted her. But some men like a bit of danger in their lives—become addicted to it, Mrs. Fontaine decided. She called out for Amanda, a young girl of fifteen who served as a lady's maid and helped Mrs. Cartwright dress, bathe, and fix her hair on formal occasions. She was fair in looks, plump and of a most pleasing nature.

"Manda, fix up one of the trays with the coffee service. And here, put this plate of cookies on it as well." And Amanda, as agreeable as always, smiled and did as she was asked.

While waiting for her visitors, Mrs. Cartwright smoothed out her skirts. She was dressed in the newest fashion of more narrow skirts and the neckline of the dress was high and prim. She wore her shiny dark hair pulled back with only a few tendrils to cut the severity. Her face was pale and heart-shaped and her eyes were a light blue-gray. Her mouth, though soft, rarely curled into a smile. Despite the coldness of her normal expression, she was beautiful and all men were struck by it. Nevertheless it didn't keep any of them from referring to her as that cold, Cartwright bitch. They joked that Adam Cartwright probably had to thaw out his cock after he poked her lest it snap off like an icicle when he took his piss afterwards.

Ultima Cartwright turned and two men were ushered in by Mrs. Fontaine who immediately left. They glanced quickly around the room. They were familiar with parlors but they had heard that Mrs. Cartwright had high tastes and thought that she was back living in San Francisco and her "drawing room" was supposedly an impressive sight to see. The men now knew why.

The fireplace was fronted with pure white Yule marble from Colorado that also composed the mantle. Every day that the fireplace was in use, Mrs. Fontaine had to rise early, along with the cook and Amanda, and then rush to clean it to remove any soot or she would hear the mistress' displeasure with her work. So while Mao Lin prepared breakfast for Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright, Mrs. Fontaine would scrub the marble, dust, carpet sweep and make certain that all was to her mistress' liking—even down to the placement of the sofa cushions and the antimacassars.

So the two men were impressed by the upholstered furniture and the rich wallpaper and rugs. The dark maple furniture glowed in the spring morning sun as did their hostess. The men were as taken aback as much by Mrs. Cartwright's presence as when they had been told to court the wife to get to the husband; they hadn't expected someone so delicate and so small—so vulnerable. And then they saw the look in her eyes and Mr. Sawyer, the shorter of the two men felt a shiver run through him; he had seen cold-blooded killers look upon him more kindly.

"Allow me to introduce us," The taller man said. "I am Mr. Murray and this is Mr. Sawyer. We have come on behalf of Mr. Matt Forsyth and his interests."

"A pleasure," Ultima said, "but if you have business to discuss, I suggest that you drive out to the Croesus mine and speak to my husband."

The two men exchanged looks. Then Mr. Murray turned back to Ultima with a smile fixed of his face. "We had been informed, Mrs. Cartwright, that your opinion weighs heavily in your husband's decisions—he looks upon you as an advisor seeing that your former husband, may he rest in peace, left the mine in your name."

Ultima smiled sweetly at the two men. "Please," Ultima said, "Won't you sit?" She took a seat on the edge of the sofa, daring either of the men to sit next to her—neither had the courage so they sat uncomfortably on the upholstered chairs which had curved, carved arms and legs. Adam had said that the drawing room looked like the inside of an high-class whorehouse but Ultima just looked askance at his derisive comments and replied that perhaps one day he would inform her how he knew what one looked like. And Adam had grinned broadly and then laughed and pulled her onto his lap.

Amanda brought in a silver tray with a fine china coffee set on it and also a plate of cookies. She gave a small half-curtsy and then left.

"Coffee, gentlemen?" Ultima said holding the coffee pot that was decorated with flowers painted in soft pastels. She smiled at them graciously and the two men looked at one another.

"Yes, ma'am," The shorter one said. "Thank you very much. Business is always easier to discuss with an air of hospitality and the sharing of bread." He blushed as Ultima merely stared at him. "I mean that merely as a metaphor. I know that it is not actual bread with which…"

"Shut up," Murray said. "You sound like a fuckin' idiot." He quickly realized that he had cursed and apologetically added, "Please forgive me, ma'am." Ultima nodded slightly. "I would be most grateful for a cup of coffee—black, ma'am, and a few of those cookies as well. Life needs a bit of sweetness." He was the better looking of the two and more muscular but Ultima noticed as he took his cup and saucer from her, that the cuffs of his shirt were begrimed. That told her what she needed to know.

"Before I forget, ma'am," the man said placing his cup and saucer gingerly on his knee and reaching inside his jacket, "I have a small token of Mr. Forsyth's admiration." He pulled out a small fabric-covered hinged box and handed it to her. Ultima noticed that his nails had ragged edges as if he chewed them down instead of clipping and the cuticles needed cleaning.

She opened the box and took a breath. Lying inside on a small satin pillow was a glowing gold nugget the size of a lima bean and as thick as the tip of a man's thumb. Ultima had enough experience with gold and gold mining that she didn't need to bite down on it to test its authenticity—it was gold. She snapped shut the box and placed it on the low table alongside the tray of china.

"I shall send Mr. Forsyth a note of appreciation for such a valuable gift but please convey my pleasure upon receiving it. Now, what was it you said about business?" And Ultima smiled gently while Mr. Murray nervously explained Mr. Forsyth's interest. Murray found that Mrs. Cartwright, despite being cool and distant, made him nervous and caused his mind to run to thoughts of fornication and how he would change that serene look on her face to one of excruciating pleasure—yeah, he thought, he'd have her squirming and screaming for more—he'd put her in her place—underneath him.

Ultima smiled, noticing the sweat that beaded on Mr. Murray's brow and upper lip. She was enjoying the meeting very much despite the fact that the more the man sweat, the more he stank. Ultima would have quite the story for her husband that night and he would show her his admiration and appreciation for her insight in ways she always found most delightful.

2

Ultima lay on her stomach, her chin propped on one arm while in the warm, dark room she lightly ran her fingers through Adam's chest hair. Her pale skin glowed like the moon. Then, as Adam sighed in contentment at her attentions, she lightly ran one finger around a nipple and then pinched it; he made a slight move but kept his eyes closed. Her husband's chest hair was so dense that Ultima once referred to him as a wolf that she longed to have devour her. Adam had warned her that he could be ravenous and that she may regret his voracious attentions once having invited them.

"So, Mrs. Cartwright," Adam said as he lay sated from their lovemaking, "As I understand it, if my mind is still clear after having enjoyed you, Forsyth sent his henchmen to broach the subject of our selling him some of our shares in the mine. You are supposed to convince me. Is that the reason for such an exuberant bounce tonight?"

"Now, husband, you know me better than that. I don't need to be bribed." Ultima moved over him and Adam opened his dark eyes to look into hers. She pushed her hair behind one ear, letting the other side fall like a curtain around them and kissed him softly. "But for some reason, people believe that I can make you do my bidding."

"Now what would make them think that? Just because you have the sweetest snatch I've ever met?" He grinned up at her and she laughed softly. He sat up and kissed her again. "That gold nugget is quite the bribe, though."

Adam gently pushed his wife onto her back and stood up. Ultima stretched and then yawning, she pulled the sheets up to her neck rolling over onto her side to watch Adam put on his robe. He whispered goodnight and then left her alone, closing the door behind him and walked barefooted to his room. He was tired and wanted to sleep but as much as he tried to make himself comfortable in his own bed, the talk with his wife kept him awake. Adam didn't trust Matthew Forsyth or the fact that he had sent the nugget to Ultima; it worried him. For one, what made Forsyth think that Ultima could be convinced in any way to do his bidding?

The other mining investors treated Mrs. Ultima Lafferty Cartwright with utmost respect; they had no choice. Although she may have been a silent partner in the Croesus mine with her first husband, Adam Cartwright made it obvious that she was a viable majority holder with more voting shares than the other minor shareholders. Ultima was present at all the business meetings and the dinners, sitting silently beside her husband, cool and unapproachable, her gloved hand often resting on his arm. Adam wanted Ultima there as he trusted her judgment and her observations—he recognized her shrewd mind and understood why Thomas Lafferty had confided all business matters in her.

But Adam also enjoyed seeing the other men at the business meetings or the elegant, expensive dinners given in Virginia City and San Francisco and Sacramento sweat a bit as they gazed upon Ultima's white bosom and her elegant arms as the jeweled bracelets glistened against her long, white gloves. They spoke among themselves about Cartwright's intention to distract them from business with his seductive wife with the blue-gray eyes and the kittenish face and the low-cut bodice. They could think of nothing else but wonder what kind of bed partner she would be.

And afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright would discuss what had passed as they lay in the dark, completely open to one another and Adam would listen to Ultima's summations and observations and then he would ask her opinion. And he always weighed what she said; she was a good partner for him, he had decided long ago.

But the events of today were a first; no one had first approached Ultima before, tried to get to him through her unless she had not been open with him in the past but he doubted that. Ultima was clever but up to that point, she had never been devious. So Adam was kept awake considering whether or not Ultima could be bribed to betray him. If anyone could convince her to do so, it would be Forsyth. True, Adam thought, they had laughed over the gold nugget and she had even playfully threatened to slide it up him so he could toss it out with the other excrement in the morning. But Adam knew that his wife was well aware that the shiny piece of ore was valuable, far too valuable for any man to give it away without expecting something in return. Therefore, Adam had ordered her to return the nugget in the morning and if she chose to blame him for its return in the accompanying note of regret, all the better. He also told her to deny Forsyth's men access to her if they visited again—even to Forsyth should he choose to visit. Ultima had pouted slightly and said that she had hoped to have it put on a chain to wear around her neck and she placed it between her bare breasts as she lay on her back.

"Wouldn't it look lovely?" she had asked him. The piece did glow in the light cast about the room by the flames dancing in the fireplace; the evenings were still cool and Ultima preferred heat despite her icy demeanor. Looking at the nugget, Adam well-understood how men had been driven mad with gold lust—the tantalizing color and the promise that lay within its possession-just as he was always driven a bit mad with his lust for Ultima and what was promised by possessing her.

"A piece of cow shit would look delectable between your luscious tits," he had said grinning, "but I don't recommend you wear one."

"Oh, you," she had said and petulantly threw the gold nugget at him. It hit his shoulder and bounced off and Adam roughly pulled her to him.

"Be careful, my dear," he had said deep in his throat, "I don't suffer open aggression. I will put down any insurrection quickly and completely." And to make his point, he stopped her response with his mouth on hers and she moaned in surrender.