BTW, a guest reviewer reminded me that England doesn't have "counts" which I knew because someone else had told me (maybe the same person?) on the first draft published elsewhere. I thought I had corrected them all to "Lord Chadwick" but apparently I missed one. Anyway, thank you for the correction.

TWELVE

Ben sat in his favorite chair as he read the paper. And although it wasn't a particularly chilly day being spring, Hop Sing had started a fire to chase off the chill that filled the house in the mornings. The embers were now dying down and along with the cup of coffee by his side and the deep, comforting pulls on his pipe, Ben Cartwright was content. His youngest son, Joe, was out checking line and since it was Saturday, Ben was to take the strong box and give the hands their week's pay that afternoon. And then with yelps of delight, the hands would ride to Virginia City to spend their money, as Ben put it, on "wine, women and song." Joe, of course, would leave for town after dinner to enjoy himself as well.

There was a heavy knock at the door followed quickly by another; someone was pounding with the brass knocker on the solid, massive door. Ben rose to answer it but Hop Sing came from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron.

"I get," Hop Sing said, and Ben sat back down only to rise again when Hop Sing opened the door and Montague, Lady Chadwick's business manager and confidante was standing at the door. The man was tall and broad shouldered and practically filled the doorway as much as Hoss did. And because of this, Ben didn't immediately notice, the small, fine-boned young man standing behind him until Montague stepped aside and gave place to him.

"Montague!" Ben said. "I wasn't expecting you. Is Lady Chadwick with you?"

Montague gave a wry smile and the young man came out from behind him, stepped into the house, and walked a few steps more and then stopped and looked around. "No," he said in a cultured British accent, "My mother is unfortunately, and with perfect timing on her behalf, dead. She expired right before the money did." The young man turned to Ben and gave a slow, arrogant nod to Ben. "I am her son, Percival Benjamin Lawrence Chadwick."

The name "Benjamin" made both Hop Sing and Ben take note, especially of the wry smile on Percival's face. "But you may call me Percy. Hopefully, not with the same tone of disdain my mother did nor with the total absence of my name as Lord Chadwick did. He never cared for me and I sincerely doubt that my mother did as well."

Percy wandered, watched by Ben, Hop Sing and Montague, further into the house and sat down in Ben's red, leather chair. He ran his hands over the arms. "Very nice," Percy said, "but as you can see, I'm not quite tall enough to rest my feet on the table-this chair will have to be moved closer. You! China boy! Come push this chair closer."

Hop Sing, his brows furrowed, looked at Ben. "Hop Sing no slave! Go finish cooking." And then Hop Sing turned and began complaining and cursing in his native Chinese. Halfway to the kitchen, Hop Sing turned and shook his finger at the young man and then made a stab in the air with his forefinger and spat after a series of exclamations.

"Oh, my," Percival said, "I do believe I angered him!" Then he laughed delightedly. "We will come to an understanding, he and I, or the poor Chinaman will have to go."

"Now hold on just one damn minute," Ben said, striding over to the chair. "This is my chair and I don't cotton to feet on the table. Now I don't know who you think you are, but no one, not even my most valued guest can treat Hop Sing or anyone else on this ranch in such a high-handed manner."

Percival smiled up at Ben. "Well, I suppose that you do have a prior claim and it is your home but I must say, when it comes to being a host, you lack. But then, well, you asked who I think I am. I know who I am-Father." And Percival grinned even wider. This was better than he had imagined it would be. He had already made the first strike to destroy this man whom his mother so hated and wanted to take revenge upon for rejecting her twice. And although he and his mother didn't hold any particular affection for one another, they did have a mutual hate for Ben Cartwright and a thirst for destruction.

Ben stood dumbstruck. He turned to look at Montague who still stood in the doorway.

"Montague, what the hell is this about?"

"May I come in, sir?"

"Of course, come in." Ben was flustered.

Montague picked up two large portmanteaus and carried them in to sit them in front of Ben's desk so they would be out of the way. "Perhaps," Montague said, "we should sit."

"Of course," Ben said, motioning for Montague to sit on the settee.

"Call the China boy to fetch us some tea," Percy said petulantly. "This is the most barbarian country! No one respects customs"

Ben glared at the young man. He had sandy blond hair and the front swung down at an angle and he tossed his head, more as a habit than anything else, to keep it out of his eyes. He had a small mustache that elegantly curved around his delicate mouth. He was dressed in a high collar with the usual tie for a proper Victorian gentleman and had long, tight, fawn breeches and a navy blue jacket, narrowly cut.

"His name is Hop Sing and I would thank you to call him that and only that." Ben stomped to the entrance of the kitchen and asked him to please brew some tea for their guests.

"Some tea sandwiches would be nice," Percy sang out. So Ben asked Hop Sing to make a few sandwiches as well. Then he joined Montague and Percy.

"Now, Montague, would you please explain all this."

"I will, sir, the best I can. After Lord Chadwick died…"

"It was assumed to be of a heart-attack," Percy said, his elbows on the arms of the chair, his fingers steepled, "but since the Lord was alone with my dear mother, well, there is no absolute cause in my opinion; I think it was a suspicious death and that mother should have been investigated. You know how mother could be, don't you, father? How manipulative and devious she was Oh, but of course, you don't know since you and she were never married. I do believe that makes me a bastard, doesn't it? But then, I have been called that name so many times as a manner of insult that it was finally a relief to find that it was true."

Ben didn't remark, just turned back to Montague.

"I shall continue, sir. After Lord Chadwick died, that was when Lady Chadwick and I came to America. She had confided to me that Percival…was your progeny. She told me, in complete confidence, that when you and she had been younger, you had been in New Orleans where she and her family lived and had become betrothed. Since, she explained, it was certain-at least in her mind-that the marriage was imminent, that she became…" Montague cleared his throat and continued. "That Lady Chadwick agreed to the greatest intimacy and then you left New Orleans. She did not know she had conceived. She went ahead and married Lord Chadwick and went on to England with him and Percival was born a few months later."

Hop Sing came out of the kitchen with a tray holding a teapot, cups and saucers and rare roast beef sandwiches that were huge-just the type the Cartwright boys liked. He sat it down on the table in front of the settee.

"Oh, my good Lord in heaven," Percy said. "This is what passes for tea sandwiches? What about jam on white bread? I'm surprised this heathen didn't slap a whole side a raw beef between a sliced loaf of bread and serve it. This is repulsive-it's practically bleeding. I wouldn't be shocked to hear the sandwich moo! And I hope I'm not expected to eat this peasant, brown bread?"

"What he say?" Hop Sing asked Ben. "I make sandwiches. He not like?"

"No," Percival said, "I definitely do not like. Take this butchered mess away and bring me some sweet crackers, please. I can't eat this disgusting mess." Percival dismissed the food with a wave of his hand.

"You ask sandwich. I make sandwich."

"Hop Sing," Ben said, standing up, "please. Just take the sandwiches away and bring us some of those almond wafers you made. Please."

Hop Sing picked up the plate of sandwiches. "I save for Joe. He eat when he come home." Hop Sing glared at the thin young man with the surly look on his face. And muttering under his breath, Hop Sing went into the kitchen, returning in a minute with a plate of wafers which he let clatter on the tray to register his displeasure.

"Shall I pour, Daddy?" Percival asked. Ben said nothing and so Percy poured three cups of tea, pouring a slip of cream into the glossy dark brew and putting two loaves of sugar in his own. Ben noted that Percival liked his tea sweet. Ben handed a cup to Montague who thanked him graciously.

"Please, Montague," Ben said, "continue."

"Well, the boy was born early and although Lady Chadwick had Lord Chadwick convinced that Percival was his, the conviction didn't last long and soon, Lady Chadwick confessed. I must say that Lord Chadwick was a gentleman. In order to avoid scandal, he accepted Percy as his own but he never really forgave his wife and I am sorry to say that their marriage was unhappy. Lord Chadwick began gambling in earnest. The lands received great revenue so there wasn't yet a financial problem and with Sir Percival sent away to school, well, the house was in peace. Both Lord and Lady Chadwick had their own amusements and I kept track of the books but trouble started when Percival was near the end of his schooling and began to…"

"You may as well say it, Montague," Percy piped up. "I began to gamble, drink and whore. I must confess that I liked the gambling and drinking much better than the whoring but it is a thing that a proper Victorian scion must pursue. Lord Chadwick called me home from my school and severely reprimanded me and had the bad taste to actually put me on an allowance. An allowance! But I suppose that you'll insist on the same thing," Percival uttered with dismay, "so I suppose I had best get used to it."

"My son's work for their money," Ben said. "They work around the ranch and draw a paycheck. Money isn't given just because they happen to be born as one of my sons."

"Oh, my," Percy said. "I hadn't realized that you were so backward. What is the point of being born into a wealthy family if one cannot enjoy the happy accidents of fate?"

Montague sighed deeply and sipped his tea. "Things went along manageably for a few years but then when Sir Percy was 22, Lord Chadwick died. He was smoking in the den, sipping his brandy-it was my night off-and when I returned the next morning, he was dead-slumped over in his chair. The doctor said that his heart had failed him."

"I didn't know the circumstances of his death. I'm sorry." Ben was truly sorry for he could see how Montague was still moved by the loss of Lord Chadwick.

"Well, I devoted myself to Lady Chadwick and then she and I came to America explicitly to visit you. She was determined to marry you and then bring her son over here and to eventually tell you about him. But, as you know, things did not work out."

"Things are not that tragic! Have a wafer, Montague," Percival said. "It'll cheer you up. Very crisp and mildly sweet with just the right balance of butter and almond. I'm surprised the heathen Chinee could make something so delicate."

"Thank you, but no, sir," Montague answered. "Anyway, it wasn't long after we arrived back in England that Lady Chadwick was diagnosed with a growth….well, it was a female condition and her death was slow and drawn-out. Very sad. But before she died, she told Sir Percival who his father really was and she also wrote this." Montague reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled an envelope from the pocket. "I swore to her that I would bring both Sir Percival and this letter to you."

Ben took the letter from Montague but didn't yet open it.

Montague stood up. "And now, sir, I take my leave."

"Surely, you'll stay here, at least for tonight," Ben said.

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright, but I will stay in town, I hired a rig to bring Sir Percival here and his trunks are in the back. I will bring them in and then go back to Virginia City. I must catch the stage to go to New Orleans to return to England. Sir Percival was…well, the money…"

"Oh, say it, Montague," Percy said. "I was a profligate. Money ran between my fingers like water and I spent almost all the money left to the family and owed powerful debts. Therefore, you can understand, Daddy, why I came here-to get away from those who, like Shylock, wanted their pound of flesh and as you can see, I am of slight stature. There isn't much of me to go around. And I was so delighted when Mother told me that you were wealthy. Wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice. I practically licked my lips in anticipation."

Ben said nothing but merely turned to Montague who had an expression of sympathy for Ben. "I must sell the estate and if there is any money left, I will send it to Sir Percival."

"But first" Ben said, "take fifty percent as your commission and another twenty-five percent for good and faithful service."

"Now just a moment!" Percival stood up. "That money is mine and I have it coming to me. Montague, you will send all of it, all of it, I tell you, to me!"

"You," Ben roared and Percy backed away a step, "did nothing to earn it nor do you deserve it. You gambled so much of it away according to what you said yourself, that losing this shall be as nothing." Ben turned to Montague. "Come along. I'll help you unload the trunks."

When they had stepped outside, Montague took Ben's arm and turned toward him. "I must warn you, sir, and I hope that you do not take offense, but be wary. Sir Percival is a viper. He is malicious, treacherous and ungrateful. Do not take him to your bosom."

And Percival muttered under his breath as Ben walked out with Montague. "You shall be in such a state when I am through with you that you will rue that you were alive to meet this day. But then, I will be the only son you will have left, the only one to share your grief at the loss of your other sons. Poor, poor, Daddy."