VI

Nell woke up suddenly alert; it was as if someone had called her name or tapped her on the shoulder. She looked at the mantle clock, a ceramic clock covered with painted flowers. She had owned it since she was a small child. It was exactly 4:30 a.m. She climbed out of bed and stood for a moment. She must have been dreaming, she decided, but the answer was so obvious. She would go to Adam Cartwright's hotel room and tell him that she loved him—if her courage didn't fail. But what she hoped would happen was that he would tell her that he loved her, was madly in love with her and sweep her up and take her maidenhead on the hotel bed. She closed her eyes and thought of it. How sweet it would be to hear him whisper her name, kiss her mouth and her neck…Nell shivered with anticipation. And then…Nell wasn't quite sure how Adam would take her and she also wasn't quite sure how she would like being so exposed to him, to allow him access to her body; she just knew that she did want it and that she wanted him.

A few times in the bathtub, Nell had used her fingers to explore herself and wondered if a man's penis was different. She had never seen a naked man, only a few statues but their privates were usually covered by a leaf—a small leaf so she didn't really expect much. That is until she began to covertly read the trashy novels that the girls at school shared, hidden in their other text books. In those, the man had organs as large as a stud bull and when penetrated, some of the heroines swooned, others cried out in ecstasy, their eyes rolling back in their heads, and some cried out metaphorically that they 'died'. Nell was young and naïve but she wasn't stupid. As a girl, she partly hoped that the man she would finally love enough to marry would be as well-endowed—and then she didn't. In her heart, Nell wanted more to be cherished than anything else but now that she had met Adam Cartwright, she also knew that although her heart may want one thing—tenderness and adoration, her body was screaming for something else.

Nell quickly dressed—a simple day dress, a shawl about her shoulders. She also fixed her hair simply since she didn't want to wake up Margery to assist her; the fewer people who knew she was leaving this early, the better. She sat at her vanity and looked at herself. The sun was beginning to come up and soon, the house would come back to life and she wanted to be gone by then. Nell reached for her face powder and lightly touched her nose, chin and forehead. She took up her atomizer and spritzed herself with perfume—it smelled like hyacinths and bluebells and a fresh spring rain. The scent had come from a perfumery in England and she had needed to send to New York for it but it was worth it. Vincent once said that all he needed was to smell it and it brought to his mind Nell's beauty and her smile. Yes, she thought. The scent would be better for Adam than the musky, heavy perfume she had worn last night.

With one last look at her dress and hair, Nell perched her hat on her head and secured it with a hat pin. Now she was ready. She snatched up her leather gloves and crept out the back of the kitchen to the garage.

Nell lifted the bar across the doors and slid back one. Inside was the brougham that her father used and the curricle. She went to the room at the back and knocked on the door. Within a few seconds, Dawson came to the door. When he saw it was Nell he quickly hiked up his suspenders and smoothed back the lock of hair.

"Miss O'Connor. What can I do for you?"

"Hitch up the curricle; I have someplace to go."

"Yes, ma'am. Just give me a moment to get my jacket and cap…"

"That won't be necessary. I'm driving myself."

"But, Miss, your father has always said that…"

"Dawson, do as I ask. I'll answer to my father for what I do. Now hurry." Nell watched as the man hurried to get the little mare used for the curricle and to hook up the traces and reins. Finally Dawson had finished and gave the curricle over to Nell.

"And where are you going—in case your father asks?" Dawson hated to have to face Mr. O'Connor. When it came to his daughter, he was like a lion.

"I'm going to see a friend," Nell said and snapped the reins. As she drove away, Nell considered. I should have told him that I'm going to find a husband—Adam Cartwright.

Nell charmed the desk clerk and he gave her Adam's Cartwright's room number even though it was standard practice to let the guest know that someone was calling; then the guest could either come down to the lobby to greet them, have the guest sent up or refuse them. But the lovely, young girl couldn't possibly have posed a threat and he was sure that Mr. Cartwright wouldn't refuse her entrance—not someone so enchanting.

Adam heard a knock. He had been lightly dozing, having woken up, considered whether or not to rise and start his day. He had to piss but hadn't yet been able to rouse himself enough to use the pot and besides, he was too hard. It was a curse that began when he was about eleven. One morning his father noticed how his young son was trying to relieve himself but couldn't due to his morning erection.

"It's the Cartwright curse, son," Ben had said to his struggling son, tongue-in-cheek. "Cartwright men always wake up hard. Sometimes, you just have to take yourself in hand and work it off." Ben had winked at Adam and left him alone and within a few minutes, Adam had resolved the issue. And Ben laughed to himself. Adam was quite the boy who one day, if he had a hot-blooded wife, would also have a lucky wife.

Adam rose from bed and pulled on his robe, pulling it across him before he tied it; his full bladder demanded attention and he hoped that whoever it was wouldn't want much. He opened the door and saw Nell O'Connor standing there, as pure and bright as a ray of sunshine. And he practically groaned as he became harder. Damn, I'll never piss at this rate.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Adam was too uncomfortable and too tired to bother with social amenities.

"I need to talk to you. Please?" Nell looked at him and her heart swelled. So this was how Adam looked in the morning. His hair was tousled and the neck of his robe revealed even more chest. And except for the thickness of his night's growth of stubble, he looked boyish.

"Nell. My mouth tastes like cigar ash, my head is throbbing from too much of your father's Kentucky bourbon and it's too early for me to entertain a guest. I'll be at the shop later; stop by there if what you have to say is so blamed important. Now if you'll excuse me…" He started to close the door. He needed to be rid of her as quickly as possible. He didn't want to be alone with her in his hotel room as she seemed too easily persuaded and he could easily be in the mood to persuade.

Nell slipped past him under his arm and Adam turned, surprised. "Nell!" He realized he wasn't going to be rid of her easily. He looked out in the hall and satisfied himself that no one could report the man in room 20 had snuck in a girl.

"Oh, Adam, I had to come see you. I couldn't let you go on with such a bad opinion of me—and, Adam, oh, Adam, I do love you so. I have to tell you as I can't keep it to myself anymore."

Nell looked so love-sick that Adam felt his heart break for her. She was so sincere in her adoration of him that Adam knew that she was trouble—trouble for him because as young as she was, he had entertained ideas of holding her in his arms and kissing her mouth, her neck and her bosom while he ran his hands up her skirts. It would be so easily to topple her on her back; Nell was so vulnerable.

"Nell, listen to me." Adam held her by her upper arms. She was so small and delicate that he was a bit surprised at how she felt in his hands.

"No, Adam, listen to me! I've loved you since the moment I first saw you—don't hush me, I have to say this or I'll never have peace. I know that all you have to say is that you don't care for me and it will break my heart but…oh, Adam, just give yourself a chance to love me. I'll be such a good wife…"

"Wife? Nell," Adam said giving her a slight shake, "look at me. Really look at me. I haven't looked in the mirror yet this morning but I can imagine that I have bags under my eyes, need a shave and I know I need a good wash. Nell, I'm a man like any other man—no better than your Mr. Marquand—and probably worse. I curse and I spit upon occasion and right now, all I can think of is that I have to relieve myself." Adam released her. "Now if you'll excuse me, Miss O'Connor, I need the chamber pot."

"Oh," Nell said, embarrassed. "I'm…of course, I hadn't considered…will you join me in the restaurant for breakfast. Oh, please, Adam?"

Adam sighed in defeat. "Al right, Nell. Take a table downstairs and I'll be there as soon as I wash and shave."

"Promise?"

"I promise, I swear it, just please…" Adam turned her around and Nell looked back up to him as he gave her a gentle shove out the door to the hall.

"I'll order coffee for us," she said eagerly.

"Yes, you do that," Adam said and closed the door on her lovely face. But the Cartwright curse was heavily upon him and he groaned. It was going to take a bit longer for him to reach comfort but then he stared thinking about Nell and her youthful beauty and it worked. Soon he was washing and then shaving. He pulled out his casual clothes for later he was going to clean the shop and meet the workers. But now he was going to meet Nell in the restaurant. He gave himself one last glance. "What she sees in you, boy, I'll never know."