Part 4

"Good evening, Father," Adam said in his best sardonic tone, entering the room with a swagger. "I suppose you're upset since I missed our guests this evening."

"Yes, Adam," Ben Cartwright said. "I am." Ben was wearing a purple velvet dressing gown and warm, fur-lined slippers as he waited up for Adam. He swirled brandy in a snifter. "The Wentworth's noticed your absence and I'm afraid they took umbrage. Sir Wentworth has a special interest in you."

"Please, Father," Adam said, pouring himself a whiskey and tossing it back. Then he poured himself another and sat in the wingback chair opposite his father on the other side of the fireplace, stretching his booted legs out and crossing them at the ankles.

This was his favorite room. It was so warm and smelled of his father's pipe and the odors of the fireplace and the smoky richness of the wood had imbued the leather and the paneled walls with their scent. And here were the shelves upon shelves of books where Adam had found many hours of pleasure, secluding himself and curling up in one of the chairs, reading until he was finally called to dinner or elsewhere.

And here also were the three oil portraits of his father's three wives. His mother, Lady Elizabeth, was the first portrait. His father said that as soon as he saw her, he knew she had to be his. She had died at Adam's birth and Adam always felt a slight guilt that she had forfeited her life so that he could live. But yet, he enjoyed looking on her gentle face as the artist had seen it, a far-away look in her eyes as if she saw events beyond the ken of human ability. But Adam felt that was the only thing he had inherited from his mother-her ability to see a future that no one else could. Adam always wondered if she had forseen her death but yet, went forward with her dreams to bear a scion for the house of Cartwright. Perhaps she felt that was her purpose in the world.

And then there was the portrait of Inger. She was Erick's mother and her Swedish heritage was developed full-blown in Adam's large, big-boned brother who had inherited a huge laugh, a huge appetite and a huge desire for carnal pleasures. Many a time, Adam had pulled Hoss out of a brothel before a jealous patron came in with a rapier or pistol.

Inger had arrived to be married to another man, Lord Pembroke, but he had already died of the flux while she was on her journey over. It was rumored that he had been poisoned, perhaps by one of his mistresses who was vexed that he was marrying a foreigner, sight unseen. Perhaps not.

Yet, when Ben met Inger Borgstrom, Ben had confided in Adam, that she was so joyous that she eased the pain of the loss of Adam's mother; he felt the world was balanced again, that grief didn't take the greater part. And Adam was happy as well. Inger's laughter filled the house and although she wasn't genteel, she was as bright as the sun on a summer's day. And then the day came, Erick being a small babe at the time, when Inger was out riding and a poacher's stray arrow caught her and brought her down and darkened the sun in her eyes and Adam's and his father's eyes as well.

And Ben grieved heavily until the courtesan, Marie DeVal-Marigny literally danced into his life at a masked ball. Ben was immediately so smitten by her grace and charm and her overwhelming sexuality, that he asked her that very evening as they strolled in the moonlight to be his wife. She agreed and then she became Lady Cartwright and bore Lord Cartwright a third son, Joseph. But it was not only Ben who was overcome by Marie's French charms-Adam was as well. He was a boy of twelve, just on the cusp of recognizing the urges for a woman and many a night he had fantasies about "maman" creeping to his room to encourage her "beau chevalier" as she called Adam since he rode so well, to take a ride on her. And yet Adam had to admire his father for following his heart and not letting the disapproval of his peers play into his choice of wife. And Lord and Lady Cartwright had six years of joy until she too died in a riding accident when her small, fine-boned mare took a spill and crushed the delicate Lady Marie, beneath her.

And so their portraits hung on the walls of the study-and whether they brought pain or joy to the Lord of the manor was unknown to Adam. Yet Adam would often sit while sipping a brandy or whiskey and compare and contrast his father's wives and smile to himself; his father, he had to admit, was quite the man-a cock who tread many a hen, begetting an egg from each.

Adam turned his attention back to his father. "The Wentworths just care to parade that daughter in front of me like a prize Guernsey at a town fair-I always expect her to moo instead of speak when she opens her maw."

"Now, Adam," Ben said, leaning forward, "they are having a small dinner party the evening after the morrow and I wish that you would attend with the rest of us-it's a small request. And Millicent Wentworth is a perfectly charming girl who is well aware due to her proper upbringing of how to behave in society." But Ben knew that Adam was correct about one thing; her features did border on bovine.

"The only thing charming about her is her wealthy family. When I marry or should I say, if I marry, 'mio caro sposo' will be someone other than one of those spoiled women who care not who her husband beds as long as she is kept in sugared fruits and sweetmeats and he doesn't bring any bastards home."

"I don't understand you, Adam. You stand to inherit this whole estate and the title and yet you are discontent. I have managed to gather all this for you and you throw it aside as if it is nothing of value."

Adam stood up and began to pace across the Aubusson rug that graced the floor. "Has it never occurred to you in your comfortable life, 'papa'… "

"You should contain your sarcasm. It is not an endearing trait."

Adam sighed. "I apologize. I suppose that I seem ungrateful but truly, Father, I'm not. I know that you take your responsibilities seriously, that you serve in the House of Lords and are a conscientious guardian of the estate but, Father, I don't want everything handed to me. I can't be a 'gentleman farmer' and ride about the property on a fat white mare and merely observe the goings-on. That's not living. I want to breathe heavily after a full day's work and have dirt on my hands at the sun's setting. I need something to do. And as for spending my days sitting in the House of Lords wearing one of those pretentious, powdered wigs-well, I can't imagine anything more miserable-or life-draining. I need adventure."

"Didn't you have enough of adventure in the Dragoons?" Ben worried about his eldest. Adam was restless and impatient, especially after his time as a cavalryman. And he knew that the recognition by the crown of Adam's bravery was just Adam's tendency to toss aside all caution and proceed head-first into danger.

"But I felt alive then," Adam said. "Now I just feel useless. And the title of 'Lord,' I'll just inherit it, not do anything to deserve it except be born before my brothers-a mere quirk of fate. "

"But you deserve a life of leisure. I have hired people to look after the finances to relieve us of that burden."

"Yes, and the last steward relieved us of the burden of 500 pounds a year before I took a look at the records and took 500 pounds-worth out of his carcass. How do you know you can trust these people to whom you gladly hand over the workings of the estate? But I am not to dirty my hands with such matters according to thee and society!"

"That would be below your station," Ben replied.

"My station be damned!" Adam shouted. "I cannot give up what is vital to me to others. Father, you have educated me and I have seen much of the world yet you expect me to merely sit on my ass and be ruled by the whimsy of underlings and their theft!"

"Adam," Ben responded, "everyone expects a little thievery among their staff-it's a fact of life. The only ones I truly trust are Mrs. Handley-and that's only because she spends her life downstairs in the kitchen and fixes our meals, and Hop Sing; did he care to rob me, he had the opportunity years ago."

Adam swallowed the rest of his whiskey and placed the glass on his father's desk. "I've been thinking about going to America-I hear that it's a marvelous continent, full of painted barbarians and odd animals-that's where I may find what I crave in my life."

"And take a barbarian for a wife, I suppose," Ben said. "Adam, all this is yours-everything. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Adam sighed deeply. "I hate to think of your passing, Father, but I know the ways of the world and realize that it will eventually happen. Despite tradition, I will divide the estate among my brothers and myself. I cannot, no matter how I twist my mind, consider Erick as a priest or a monk-he cannot even conceive of eating sparingly-and I can't see any other way for him to support himself. And as for Joseph, well, he's young and it does appear that with his beauty and foppish ways, he may marry into a wealthy family-but nevertheless, he is my brother and a third of the estate shall be his."

Ben sighed. "I take comfort in that Adam. I would like to know that your brothers shall be protected by you. Nevertheless, I do wish you would reconsider how you have comported yourself up to now. Whether you like or no, you do-as my son and heir-have certain responsibilities to fill."

Adam sighed deeply. Then he turned to face his father. "I shall deeply consider our conversation, Father-out of my respect and admiration for you, but now I will retire for the night." Adam started to leave the room but turned. "I do offer my regrets if I caused you any embarrassment tonight. That was not my intent. Goodnight, Father." And Adam closed the door behind him and took the stairs to his room. His thoughts switched from the serious subject of responsibilities to the pearl jewelry and whether Betty or Molly should be given the ear bobs for consideration of their many delightful attributes and favors.