Fare Thee Well, Part Twelve

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13

LINK TO PART ONE

~

The clerk at the International House cast an anxious glance around the foyer and then wrung his hands together. He wished that Adam Cartwright would hurry up about signing in and paying for his room.

He stared at the girl Adam had with him. She was dressed up as if it were her wedding day. That was a silk gown for certain.

He shook his head. She was a taking little thing. He could understand what Adam saw in her. But why did he have to bring her here?

It wouldn’t do the hotel any good if word got around. What would people think if they found out that a woman of color was staying here? Well, thank God it was only for one night.

Despite his misgivings the clerk kept his tongue inside his head. No point in refusing their business. He didn’t want the Cartwrights to stop recommending the hotel.

He sighed. No, it was better to give Adam and his mistress the best room available and then get them out of sight.

~

Adam watched with concern as Charlotte struggled to take off her pearl choker. It was a beautiful piece that she had inherited from her mother. But she was too angry to treat it with the delicate touch that the clasp demanded.

"Here," he said, taking a step toward her. "Let me get that for you."

"Don’t you come near me," she said, shooting him a warning glance. "It’s your fault that we’re arguing on our wedding night!"

"We’re not arguing," he corrected. "We’re just going around in circles."

"Well, that’s your fault too," she informed him.

He sighed. It had been only half an hour since he brought her into the room. How had they managed to get into a fight already?

"You’re going to break that if you’re not careful," he advised her.

"It’s not going to break," she insisted, "I know how to—"

Adam cringed as he caught the almost inaudible ‘snap’ of the whole strand severing. It was followed by the ‘ping, ping’ of tiny pearls hitting the floor.

Charlotte gasped. She looked down in horror at the pearls that were now littering the floor. Then she looked up at Adam and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

Adam crossed his arms over his chest as she flung every foul French word in her vocabulary at him. What did she think—that he had somehow willed the strand to break?

He raised his eyebrows at the names she called him. There were a few he didn’t recognize, but he could guess their meaning from context.

He bit back a smile. Her French was every bit as thorough as Marie’s had been.

"Are you done?" he asked when she paused for breath.

She made a face at him. "I can’t stand it when you stay calm like that. Why aren’t you screaming back at me?"

He smiled outright at that. "Because I’m planning to wash your mouth out with soap instead."

She glared at him for a moment but Adam could see an answering smile tugging at her lips. She gave in and laughed despite herself.

"Voyou!" she said, calling him a much gentler name than the ones she’d just used. "Help me pick these up. Do you think it can be fixed?"

"I’m sure it can," he answered as he knelt down to collect the strays.

She tried to kneel too, but she paled and got right back up again.

"What’s the matter?" he asked.

"My stays are too tight," she told him. Her voice was a little breathless. "I had to make my waist infinitesimal to fit into this dress," she explained.

He shook his head at her as she started to unhook her gown and pull it off. He was just beginning to understand the lengths that Charlotte would go to for the sake of fashion.

"It took Mrs. Hawkins forever to lace them!" she continued as silk skirts and muslin petticoats muffled her voice. "She had to pull and pull and pull."

Adam rolled his eyes at her. "Joe warned me that you were vain and arrogant," he commented.

"Not vain and arrogant," she corrected. "Vain and snobbish."

He laughed as she set her gown and her hoopskirt aside. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her in just her chemise, her stays, her pantalets and her stockings. Then he tore his eyes away and found a cup to place the stray pearls in. Kevin's old tin cup would do.

When that was accomplished he stood up and stepped behind her. He turned his attention to her stays and began to loosen them.

"Thank you!" she said. "Now I can breathe again."

She paused and sent him a mischievous glance over her shoulder. "Now kindly explain why my sister Thérèse is leaving New Orleans. And why you wrote her that she could live with me!"

"Are we going to go back around in circles?" he asked as began to unlace the stays altogether.

"Adam, she shouldn’t leave. It’s not safe—there’s a war on!"

He sighed. Apparently they were going to go back around in circles.

"You left during the war," he pointed out. Again.

"Yes," she said, repeating her own words and gestures. "And I risked it because I wanted to get away from her! Now I’ll have to put up with her and her spineless husband."

"Charlotte, I’ll be dividing my time between Virginia City and the Ponderosa. I don’t like the thought of you living alone while I’m at the ranch—and neither does Thérèse. That’s why she’s coming."

Charlotte stomped her foot in frustration. "I won’t live with her, Adam! I can stand only one tyrant in my life at a time. And I’d much rather it be you."

"Thank you very much," he said dryly.

She shook her head impatiently. "If I can admit to being vain and snobbish, you can admit to being a tyrant. You’ve already threatened to wash my mouth out with soap!"

"It wasn’t just a threat," he assured her.

"You won’t want to kiss me tonight if I taste like lye," she retorted.

"That’s true," he owned as the last of the lacing came undone. "I’ll have to spank you instead."

"Well, first promise me that I won’t have to live with Thérèse."

He grinned as he removed her stays and tossed them onto the bed. Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him.

He kissed the top of her head. "Would you try it first?" he asked. "We’ll find you a large house where you can set up your shop and still have plenty of room for the three of you."

She made a ‘hrmmph’ sound. "And if Thérèse and I come to blows?"

He shrugged. "Then we’ll find her a home nearby."

"How about Carson City? That’s nearby. Or better yet, San Francisco."

Adam turned her around to face him and then kissed her soundly. "No more going around in circles," he said as they broke apart. "Will you try to get on with Thérèse?"

She made another face at him. "I’ll try," she promised.

"Good," he said after kissing her again. "Now let’s forget about her—I’m sure we can come up with something else to talk about."

She laughed as he lifted her into his arms. "It’s our wedding night," she reminded him. "I’m sure we can do something other than talk!"

LINK TO PART THIRTEEN