V

Nell stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed out her hair for the night. Her lips still showed the rouge she had used although she had washed it off her cheeks. A bit of the kohl with which she had darkened her lashes also remained. As she reconsidered the evening, she became frustrated and threw her brush across the room. It hit the wall with a satisfactory thud. Her dinner party hadn't turned out at all as she had planned and right now, as she was sitting in her nightgown, having lost her temper with Margery twice already that evening, Adam Cartwright was sitting with her father in the den playing chess, smoking cigars and sipping expensive bourbon and talking about boring business—the same thing they had talked about at dinner. The only positive thing was that Nell learned that Adam came from a ranching family and had two brothers, was born back east and had attended school there and had learned his trade as an apprentice for one of the largest architectural firms in Boston. But she had also learned that he had never married and didn't see himself doing so anytime soon.

Margery, a young woman two years older than Nell, hurried to retrieve the boar bristle brush. "Would you like me to brush your hair, Miss?"

"No, Margery, I do not! If I did, I would have asked you, wouldn't I?" Nell sighed when she saw Margery's hurt face. "I'm sorry, Margery. I'm just in a bad mood. Thank you. I won't need you anymore tonight. Oh, and please take the dress to the laundry tomorrow and point out the wine stains."

"Yes, it's a shame about that. Such a lovely dress but I told you that you shouldn't have worn it. It's too daring for so early in the day and the delicate lace overlay on the bodice is probably ruined…"

"Margery," Nell interrupted her. She had heard nothing from Margery the whole time she had helped her dress her that night except that Miss Nell shouldn't be dressing in such a way for an early dinner and what if something happened to the dress? Hadn't it been purchased for her and Mr. Marquand's European honeymoon? Nell had told her to mind her own business and to just help her dress and then do her hair according to the picture she had clipped from the magazine. "Margery," Nell said again, controlling her annoyance "it isn't ruined at all. Just take the dress and leave...please." Margery picked up the dress that was cut in the most fashionable European style with a daring neckline, curtsied slightly, and left the room.

Nell still sat and stared at her reflection. All her plans had dissolved and she was sure that Adam Cartwright's opinion of her was that she was a foolish, prating, clumsy child. She stared at the novel sitting on the edge of the vanity—Millicent: A Woman of Lost Virtue Who Found Happiness. Nell grabbed it and flung it against the wall as well. "For all the good it did me," Nell said to no one but the air. She had read the novel a few months ago and had barely breathed while she read the exploits of the heroine, Millicent, who sold herself to men and yet, the wealthiest client of hers married her and they lived in sexual bliss for the rest of their lives—or at least the ending implied. But the reason that Nell had skimmed the pages again that afternoon was to read the details of how Millicent had seduced so many men, the way she looked at them with smoldering desire in order to make them want her. Then there was the way she touched their thighs and let them look down her cleavage. According to the novel, no man could resist such a woman—but Adam had resisted her—had barely paid any attention to her.

Nell had been excited to see Adam when he had shown up at the door and Murray let him in. She had heard his voice in the foyer and Nell eagerly said, "He's here, Abby. Do I look all right?" Nell stood and spun for her friend. Abby was dressed nicely but she hadn't worn a ball gown as Nell did. Abby had told Nell earlier that she was showing too much bosom and that her hair looked like that of a Roman prostitute due to the braids that wound about the loosely-piled curls.

"I've told you my opinion—the dress is lovely—it's just inappropriate," Abby said. "And that perfume—it's so heavy!" Then she reached out for Nell and pulled her hand. "He's coming in—sit down." Nell sat on the edge of her chair and when Adam Cartwright walked in she rose and went to greet him. Again she was overwhelmed by his mere presence. He was dressed in a simple suit and a white shirt and a tie—but she had noticed that he was wearing shiny, black, square-toed boots.

"Adam," she said putting out her hand, her heart thumping. "So glad that you could come. You remember my friend, Miss Abigail Weems—Abby."

"Yes," Adam said, walking past Nell. "How do you do, Miss Weems. Lovely to see you again." He took Abby's hand and placed his other hand over it and then released it. Nell was thrown; Adam hadn't said anything about her—not how beautiful she looked nor did she see anything in his expression to indicate that he found her irresistible. "Well," Adam said to Nell, "I'm looking forward to seeing your father again but I see he's not here. Am I too early?"

Nell was about to answer when her father waked in the room. "Well, Adam Cartwright! Good to see you again." The men shook hands. "How about a drink before dinner?" Adam said that would be fine and Mr. O'Connor dismissed his daughter and Abby, telling them to go elsewhere while he poured himself and Mr. Cartwright a drink but before the two young women left, he said, "And, Nell, why are you dressed like a high-priced courtesan? Go wipe that rouge off your cheeks."

Nell blushed and Adam attempted, unsuccessfully, to suppress a grin. He looked at her with amusement. Nell didn't know what to say but turned and flounced out of the room trying to maintain her dignity.

"I told you," Abby said in a whisper. "You have time to go change. They'll probably be in there for anther half hour or so."

Nell raised her chin in defiance. "I will not change. I chose this dress for Adam and I'm going to wear it."

But now Nell wished she hadn't. Abby had been her most charming self, flirting with him and Adam was polite and smiled and answered her questions but didn't seem to be particularly interested in her. Nell felt a certain smugness about that. But then, Nell's hopes were crushed. She had tried to garner Adam's attention all through dinner by touching her throat which was supposed to draw his attention to her breasts—at least that's what it said in the novel, but he barely noticed, that is until she accidentally spilled her wine over her bosom and the V-shaped lace inset of the dress. She had been trying to seductively sip the wine but Adam was too busy talking with her father to pay attention. So Nell, cleared her throat and when Adam glanced at her, she couldn't help but let the bowl slip a bit from her grasp—he had looked at her in such a manner, and a portion of the wine spilled over her. The glass dropped from her hand completely and the wine pooled in her lap, soaking through the napkin. Nell stared down at her dress and Murray rushed to assist her but there was nothing he could do—the white napkin he held to offer her, fluttering in his hand like a flag of surrender. He just stood awkwardly asking her if she needed anything but not daring to wipe the wine off her bosom.

"No, no," Nell had said, her voice quivering. She wanted to cry. Her father then chastised her, telling her that she should have worn something more fitting for dinner and then, had it been ruined, it wouldn't be such a tragedy to her. Adam politely continued to eat, removing himself from the situation.

Nell had stood up and Adam rose as well. "Please excuse me," Nell said, trying not to cry. "I've had quite enough to eat. I'll think I'll go upstairs for the evening. Thank you for coming, Mr. Cartwright—Adam."

"Goodnight, Nell. I'm sorry that you are leaving us. You add so much to the company."

Nell said nothing, knowing it was a polite response, and just acknowledged Adam's comment with a small nod and quickly left the room. When she reached the stairs, Nell broke out in tears of humiliation. She ran up them, tripping once over her skirts and barking her shins on the edge of a stair. Once in her room, Nell threw herself on the bed and cried into her crossed arms. Adam Cartwright was lost to her forever for as handsome, educated and worldly as he was, he would never want a clumsy, gauche, awkward girl who didn't even know how to dress or drink wine. Within a few moments, there was a light knock on the door and Abby asked if she could come in.

"Yes. Please come in." Nell sat up and wiped the tears off her cheeks.

"Oh, Nell," Abby said, sitting on the bed and hugging her friend. "I'm so sorry about your dress."

"Oh, did Adam laugh at me? He must think I'm an idiot!"

"No, he didn't laugh. Your father was going to say something—started to but Adam diverted him, asking about—I don't know—something about the railways. Something about his family and timber—I wasn't really listening."

"You should go back down," Nell said. "Don't miss out because of me and my stupid dress and my clumsiness. Oh, I think it's ruined! And it was so beautiful!" Nell stood up and held out her skirt for Abby to see the large spot.

"Maybe the laundry can do something with it, Nell, but I hope you've given up any ideas about Adam Cartwright—even though he didn't flirt with me, he didn't flirt with you either."

"I know—you don't have to remind me. He has no interest in me—but earlier he was so…so…"

"Polite?" Abby cocked her head to one side.

"Do you think that's what it was? That he was just being polite?"

"And gallant. Anyway, it's time I left. I've eaten all I can and I don't want to sit there all alone and listen to them talk about wood—and whatever that has to do with the railroad." She stood up. "Turn around and I'll unhook you. I'll find Margery and tell her to come up and help you for bed." Abby deftly unhooked the long line of hooks and loops down the back of the dress.

"Thank you, Abby. I'm glad you were here. Tell Margery you're ready to leave and she'll tell Dawson and he'll drive you home; he was going to leave the buggy hitched."

So the friends kissed each other goodbye. But that was earlier in the evening and now Nell was disappointed, her hopes for the grand seduction of Adam Cartwright shattered and although she knew that she should forget about Adam, she couldn't. Not yet, not while he was still so fresh in her mind with his sardonic grin and deep laugh and gentle eyes. She crawled under her coverlet and imagined herself in Adam Cartwright's embrace. How wonderful it would be to have him with her every night and every day. Yes, she would win him yet—she had too. Somehow.