VIII

He didn't know where he was at first but Adam felt as if his head was in a tightening vise—his temples throbbed.

"About time you woke up and hauled your drunken ass off my settee. C'mon, Bee's got coffee ready." Jess stood over him and Adam groaned as he sat up and dropped his head in his hands.

"Why did you let me drink all that goddamn wine? I'm surprised I didn't piss myself. What kind of friend are you, anyway." Adam tentatively stood while Jess grinned in enjoyment. "Coffee, huh? It better be strong."

"You let Bee see you in that condition," Jess said indicating Adam's crotch, "and she'll toss me out and drag you to the bedroom."

"Oh, the Cartwright curse my pa always called it." Adam reached down and adjusted himself; he suddenly remembered that he had dreamed of Nell and the emotions in his dreams came back to him—the sense of yearning and then loss. "It'll go down—give me time." He walked with Jess into the kitchen and his stomach revolted at the smell of frying bacon. He quickly sat at the white wooden table and apologized to Bee for getting so drunk but refused any food, just sat drinking the hot coffee she placed before him. He was queasy but it eased and he managed to eat a piece of dry toast.

Jess left for the shop and Adam needed to get to his hotel room to shave and change clothes so the two caught a hack at the end of the dirt road where it met with a main thoroughfare—Adam said that he couldn't bear walking in the sun and had it always been that bright? Jess again laughed at Adam's misery.

"Any woman who has that effect on a man, drives him to drink to forget her, well, that's the kind of woman a man can't forget."

"When did you fancy yourself a philosopher?" Adam asked, leaning his head back, his eyes closed as the hack traveled the streets.

"Tell me it's not true."

"Right now, I couldn't tell you what color horseshit is."

In the late morning, Abby rushed to her friend's house; Vincent Marquand had just left from visiting her and actually cried because the day before, Nell wanted to cancel their engagement. Vincent begged Abby to tell him the real reason why Nell was breaking off with him as she had simply said that she didn't love him. Abby comforted Vincent and promised she would talk to Nell as soon as he left. Vincent thanked her profusely and said that he would leave then and would stop by later to see what Nell had said.

Abby walked briskly with single-minded purpose. She was furious with Nell. Of, course, she knew that Nell was infatuated with Adam Cartwright and so Abby briefly regretted not having told Vincent that Nell had fallen for an older man, someone who cared not one whit about her. Nell would have deserved it, Abby thought. After all, Vincent obviously adored her and Nell was willing to toss him aside for something so unsure. Nell was just spoiled—grabbing at everything she could and pushing aside one of the best men she could find for who? Abby sighed. For one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. Abby wished she didn't understand but she did; Vincent was predictable but Adam was like playing with fire—one might be burned but the flame was a delicious form of pain. Abby walked faster; thinking of Adam Cartwright made her desperate to find out what had happened.

"No need to announce me, Murray. Where is Miss Nell?" Abby pulled off her gloves and held them in one hand.

"In the sitting room, Miss." Abby nodded and made her way to the room where Nell sat quietly working a cross-stitch, holding the hoop in one hand while she calmly worked the needle through the pattern.

"Abby," Nell said smiling and standing up to kiss her friend. "Come. Sit. What can I offer you? Lemonade?" Murray was waiting in the doorway. Abby agreed on lemonade and Murray bowed slightly and left. "Now I know you've come to chastise me, haven't you? I can see it in your face? Has Vincent been to see you?"

"Yes. He was crying, Nell, crying at the thought of losing you. How can you do this to him? Has Adam Cartwright proposed to you? Well, has he?"

"No," Nell said quietly. "I did tell him I loved him but he…he tried to discourage me. He's given me no hope that he'll call on me, that he's even interested in me, except that, well, he did tell me I was desirable."

"You told him you loved him? When?" Abby was shocked that Nell hadn't come to confide in her; they had never held anything back from each other, revealing their first loves, their first kisses and their first urges as women and the type of lover they would want should thy ever have one. They had giggled together over what intercourse would be like, what it would be like to have a man push his erection between their legs and what it could feel like. Would it hurt? Would it be pleasurable? And they had discussed their idea of what a husband should be, the perfect husband and up to now, that had been Vincent Marquand—looks, money and breeding. And Nell had won him and now she was blithely tossing him aside.

Murray came in pushing a cart that held their lemonade and a plate of sugared cookies. Nell thanked him and he left and when she was sure he was out of hearing range, she leaned over and practically whispered to Abby, "I went to his hotel room yesterday morning."

Abby gasped. "Nell, whatever possessed you to do such a thing? How scandalous!"

"Oh, Abby, I had to—had to tell him I loved him and I want to marry him. I wanted him to know how I felt. And then we had breakfast." Nell's expression changed. "He said that I was too young to know what marriage entailed, especially marriage with him. He made himself sound…sound like some beast, said that he would 'bend me to his will'. He wouldn't have to bend me to his will, I'd submit. Oh, Abby, I yearn for him. I feel things that, well, I'm ashamed at how wanton I feel. I feel lustful. I think I would let him take me even if he left me afterwards. I could marry Vincent if I knew what it was like to be with Adam. Those memories would last me my whole life."

Abby stood up. "Nell, I won't hear any more of this! Vincent wants me to explain to him why you want to break off—shall I tell him this? Shall I say that you've pinned your hopes on some man who's practically a stranger just because…because he's handsome? Don't be a fool. You have everything! Everything and you want more. Think what you'll be losing!"

Nell was about to answer when Murray came in. "A Mr. Adam Cartwright to see you, Miss Nell."

Nell exchanged glances with Abby. "I don't believe it," Abby said.

"Have him come in," Nell said and grabbed Abby's arm. "He's come to call on me, Abby. He loves me—I know it."

Adam walked in, his hat in his hand looking a bit sheepish. Nell drew herself up and went to him, smiling, her hands outstretched. "Oh, Adam, I knew you'd come. I knew it!"

"Nell, I…" He glanced quickly at Abby who looked surprised. "Miss Weems," he said acknowledging her. Adam took Nell's hands and he was surprised when she tip-toed and kissed him on the mouth. "Nell, please, we need to talk about…"

"Of course, you want to tell me you love me. I know you do, Adam and oh, I love you so."

Adam shook his head and then smiled. "I swear, Nell, you are the most confounded woman…" He looked at her, at the obvious love in her eyes and Adam suddenly wanted to be as wonderful as she thought he was. So he took her in his arms and kissed her. Nell responded as a grown woman would; she twined her arms about his neck and yielded her mouth to him while she pressed against him, feeling his desire for her manifest itself. "Nell, Nell," he said, pulling away slightly. "Please, listen to me…damn it, woman but you are beautiful." He pulled Nell to him again, kissing her mouth and her cheek and bending to kiss her neck.

Abby cleared her throat. "Obviously, I'm in the way. Excuse me." She walked out of the room and left the house and walked back home, passing others as determined to get to their individual destinations as was she. And in her mind she was composing just what she would tell Vincent Marquand when he came to call again.