{"id":2916,"date":"2011-11-29T16:28:22","date_gmt":"2011-11-29T21:28:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2916"},"modified":"2026-07-29T11:56:38","modified_gmt":"2026-07-29T15:56:38","slug":"somewhere-beyond-the-sea-or-the-art-of-the-impossible","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2916","title":{"rendered":"Somewhere Beyond the Sea or The Art of the Impossible (by faust)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: <\/span>Prequel set in Adam’s college years in Boston. A formal ball, a friendly social, a red dress, a flamingo, and the sea, the sea! The beginning of Adam’s complicated love life, and, somewhere beyond the sea, someone’s first tentative steps into becoming The Queen. Can be read by itself, yet it is a part of the \u201cArt\u201d series.<\/p>\n

12,750 words, rated K<\/p>\n

My Story Index and reading order for the Art-Universe<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Somewhere Beyond the Sea
\nor
\nThe Art of the Impossible<\/strong><\/h2>\n

May 20th, 1850<\/strong><\/p>\n

I. Brighton<\/strong><\/p>\n

Henry Heatherstone, only son and heir of Henry, fourteenth Earl of Barnstoke, checked his appearance in the great mirror in the hall of Preston Manor, the family\u2019s summer residence in Brighton. He straightened his bow-tie one last time and grinned at his reflection, arching a mocking eyebrow. Henry knew exactly what this evening was about, and it most certainly wasn\u2019t about him. It really didn\u2019t matter how he looked tonight, even though, admittedly, he looked good. At the age of twenty, Henry, who had inherited his mother\u2019s famous good looks and his father\u2019s tall and well built physique, was already a coveted bachelor and a welcome guest to any social event.<\/p>\n

Not that he planned to get married too soon, not before he\u2019d finished his studies at Cambridge anyway; but he had already cast his eyes over one or two young ladies. Isabel FitzAlan, with her raven-black hair and those cunningly blue eyes, in particular made his heart race anytime he saw her. And, feeling her soft, small hand in his while they\u2019d danced at the Christmas ball in Arundel, he had fantasised how it might be to hold that hand every time he wanted to. But just when he had tried to sneak her out of the room and into one of the many niches in the long halls of Arundel castle, her father, the Duke of Norfolk, had materialised out of nowhere and given Henry a glare that could be only matched by\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cJuliet! Aren\u2019t you coming?\u201d<\/p>\n

His father\u2019s call interrupted Henry\u2019s train of thought. The Earl had entered the hall with a glass of brandy in his right hand and a pocket watch in the left. He looked up the wide staircase, frowned but then chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u201cWomen,\u201d he said, shaking his head. \u201cThey can\u2019t be punctual on an occasion like this. Your mother was the same. The times I spent waiting for her in the halls of the empire\u2019s manor houses…\u201d<\/p>\n

The Earl\u2019s smile went from mocking to reminiscing. \u201cIt was always worth it, though. Florence never ceased to make me breathless.\u201d He looked down into his brandy glass and swirled its contents, watching the play of light in it as if he were glancing into a fortuneteller\u2019s crystal ball.<\/p>\n

Henry did what he was supposed to do: he remained silent and let his father delve into his memories. He couldn\u2019t remember when exactly it had happened, but sometime between the day he had stopped wearing short trousers and tonight his father had started to speak to him about his deceased wife in a different way. As if he had been waiting until Henry was old enough to understand that this \u201cFlorence\u201d had been someone with more than just the label \u201cmother,\u201d that she\u2019d also been a woman, a wife, someone his father had felt for in a way similar to how Henry felt for Isabel. It was strange and comforting at the same time, and somehow Henry felt closer to that woman of whom he had no memory the older he got and the more his father talked of her not as \u201cmother\u201d but as \u201cFlorence.\u201d<\/p>\n

Again, he was interrupted in his musings. This time the Earl tugged at Henry\u2019s sleeve and whispered conspiratorially, \u201cHere she comes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry looked up and watched his little sister descending the stairs. The first thing he saw was a foot in a dark scarlet satin shoe, then the matching ball gown, and finally Juliet\u2019s shyly smiling face, and the piece of art Carol, her maid, had created from Juliet\u2019s sumptuous golden curls.<\/p>\n

He exchanged a short glance with his father\u2014did the Earl see what he saw? Yes, he did.<\/p>\n

\u201cJuliet, my dear, you look absolutely wonderful!\u201d Father took Juliet\u2019s hand and performed some quick dance steps with her. \u201cYou look…\u201d He choked, and then he blinked a few times and shook his head as if he couldn\u2019t believe it. \u201cLike your mother, child, like…like your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was the ultimate compliment, they all knew it; and Juliet beamed and stood even taller. She looked at Henry, her green eyes sparkling in a contest with the diamonds at her neck, and when he nodded her smile became even more radiant.<\/p>\n

Of course, even though it hurt Henry to admit it, Juliet wasn\u2019t and would never be a real match for their mother\u2014but she\u2019d never come as close to it as tonight. Which was good, very good indeed, because tonight was the night Juliet, who had turned seventeen only a few days ago, would be presented. It was called \u201cintroducing her to society,\u201d but actually it meant \u201cputting her on the market.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry wasn\u2019t sure if Juliet was ready for that or if the \u201cmarket\u201d was ready for Juliet (or would ever be, for that matter) but he sensed her excitement and her anticipation for the dance, the music, and the conversation.<\/p>\n

The conversation.<\/p>\n

God help us.<\/em><\/p>\n

The coach was already waiting at the front door, so they didn\u2019t waste any more time, and soon they were on their way to the event of the year: the opening ball of the Brighton season at the Royal Pavilion.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

II. Boston<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Adam was struggling with his bow-tie.<\/p>\n

He always struggled with his bow-tie. That darn thing just never wanted to sit straight, and when it did, it would suddenly seem to become too tight and to cut off his air supply, so that he had to untie it and start over again. Then, unfailingly, his fingers got clammy and he became even more impatient and clumsy, and in the end he always went out with a mess around his neck. Usually someone, a well meaning friend, a blushing parlor maid, or even a tsking lady of the house took pity on him and, with a magic finger play, neatened everything in a second\u2014and when he was very lucky he was even spared a patronising inflection. But still he found that all very embarrassing, especially when his dear friends<\/em> witnessed his humiliation, and made uproariously funny comments about ranch-couture and\u2014<\/p>\n

There. The tie sat. A little too tight maybe, but nothing he couldn\u2019t live with. He checked his appearance one last time in the tiny mirror over the wash stand. His hair was as smooth as he could force it to be, his shirt was clean, his bow-tie surprisingly straight. He inhaled deeply and then grinned at his reflection. This evening was going to be good. A small social at the Franks\u2019 house: some of his college friends would be there, they would have music, dance, and witty conversations\u2014and there would be Fiona Keats.<\/p>\n

Fiona. Fiona<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Fiona, the girl who made Adam\u2019s heart beat quicker. The girl who made his mouth go dry. The girl who stirred something in him he had never felt before.<\/p>\n

Fiona. If ever a girl had a fitting name then it was the petite Fiona. She had the face of a porcelain doll with pale blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and a small heart-shaped mouth; and hair that looked like spun gold. Her smile made a room light up, even on a dark February day, as Adam had noticed when he first met her. She had captured his heart with that smile, with her kind and quiet manners, and with her interest in everything Adam had to tell.<\/p>\n

Fiona would be there tonight, and maybe, just maybe, Adam would be lucky enough to sneak out into the Franks\u2019 garden with her and perhaps even be able to bestow upon her that kiss he had been dreaming about ever since Etienne had introduced him to her.<\/p>\n

A kiss. Lord, a kiss.<\/p>\n

Would she? Fiona was a sheltered girl, from a good family with good….<\/p>\n

But she felt as he did, didn\u2019t she?<\/p>\n

Adam craned his neck and fingered his collar, trying to loosen the tie a bit. He swallowed dryly.<\/p>\n

A girl like Fiona would kiss a young man when she was betrothed to him.<\/p>\n

Betrothed. Betrothed, as in \u201cengaged to be married.\u201d<\/p>\n

Did he want to marry Fiona Keats?<\/p>\n

Adam looked into the mirror again. He watched his face as if he saw it for the first time, then tilted his head, smiled, and raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d he said out loud.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not what<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam spun around and faced his grandfather. \u201cWhy not…er, never mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam, are you all right?\u201d Grandfather Abel looked amused. \u201cYour friend is waiting downstairs; but if you\u2019d rather talk to yourself for a little longer, I\u2019ll tell him to go ahead without you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam grinned. \u201cOh, no, I\u2019ve finished. A man has to talk to at least one reasonable fellow a day, but now I\u2019m through.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHear, hear. Our scholar seems to be in an exceptionally good mood tonight,\u201d Grandfather chuckled. \u201cGood for you, boy; you need to relax a bit now before the next term makes you all too serious again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s return smile was genuinely grateful. Living with his grandfather during term breaks had turned out to be a most interesting experience. Adam had been told that his mother had been a very bright and witty person who had loved to tease and banter; but Pa had never mentioned that Abel Stoddard shared this quality with his daughter. After the awkward first few weeks, Adam and his grandfather soon had come to an easy relationship; and even though Adam would never treat Grandpa with anything less than utmost respect, he knew he didn\u2019t have to watch his words as carefully as he had to at home. Abel Stoddard appreciated good wordplays, creative jokes, and an occasional sarcastic comment\u2014even at his own expense.<\/p>\n

Adam suspected that Grandpa saw him more as Elizabeth\u2019s son than as his grandchild, and that in Adam he sought and found traces of his daughter, or even of himself, which made him more accepting and more inclined to exercise leniency. Whatever it was, Adam enjoyed the easiness in his grandfather\u2019s house that stood in sharp contrast to the tightly packed curriculum and tense atmosphere at college.<\/p>\n

He squeezed the old man\u2019s hand, just that split second longer that turned it from casual to meaningful. \u201cThank you, Grandpa,\u201d he said soberly, and then they looked at each other in that wordless understanding that Adam seemed to have achieved only with his grandfather. But before it could get too maudlin, Adam grinned and said, \u201cI promise you I\u2019ll be as non-serious as possible tonight, if you insist.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grandpa wiggled his right index-finger in front of Adam\u2019s face. \u201cDon\u2019t twist my words, sailor! You better stay on course, or your non-seriousness will have serious consequences\u2014you wouldn\u2019t be the first bluejacket I\u2019ve keelhauled.\u201d<\/p>\n

Their silent laughter was interrupted by a shout from downstairs.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam! Are you coming already? Mon dieu<\/em>, you are more bad than any mademoiselle<\/em>!\u201d That was Etienne. Etienne, a student from France, who was even more exotic at Harvard than Adam and therefore almost naturally his best friend.<\/p>\n

\u201cWorse,\u201d Adam called back as, after a hurried goodbye to Grandpa, who practically shoved him down the landing, he hastened down the stairway. \u201cIt\u2019s worse<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMais oui<\/em>! As I said,\u201d Etienne cried out with a sardonic smile as he shook hands with Adam. \u201cAnd you\u2019re not even as beautiful as a mademoiselle<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

And then they bantered about the beauty of mademoiselles<\/em> and New England girls and about the strange peculiarities of English grammar all the way to the Franks\u2019 house.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

III. Brighton<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Reluctantly Henry relinquished Isabel to another dancer. He would have loved to put his name on every line in her dancing card; but since that would have been improper, he had ask her to reserve him as many dances as etiquette allowed. It still didn\u2019t seem enough, and Henry felt jealousy raising its ugly head whenever he was forced to let someone else take Isabel\u2019s hand and to watch them dance.<\/p>\n

With a sigh he turned his attention from the dance floor to the people standing around it. His eyes scanned the crowd to find Juliet.<\/p>\n

He couldn\u2019t help but smile. If ever a woman had been easy to find, it was his not-so-little sister: taller even than most of the men, and with her dark red dress not to be overlooked among the crush of pastels.<\/p>\n

That dress.<\/p>\n

That dress was Juliet\u2019s victory. Highly inappropriate for a debutante, in no way following fashion, and yet so very much Juliet, and so unbelievably complimentary that even Lady Harriet, who was acting as hostess for the night, had been shocked only for a few seconds when she first saw it. However, she had tsked, and, in a remarkable shift of countenance, lifted an eyebrow; but Juliet, being a Heatherstone and therefore immune to raised eyebrows, had just produced her most winning smile and complimented Lady Harriet on the \u201cmagnificent choice of setting\u201d of this ball. (A completely genuine statement: the Royal Pavilion\u2019s Music Room with its imaginative crimson and golden decoration of serpents, dragons and oriental landscapes simply had to please and stimulate his sister; and the tent-like octagonal cornice and richly decorated gilt dome surely satisfied her appreciation for fine architecture.) This had evoked another unexpected display of emotion, this time an actual smile<\/em> from the iron lady, and then for the rest of the evening she had stood unwaveringly next to Juliet, introducing her to a seemingly neverending parade of appropriately dressed earls and dukes and their families.<\/p>\n

Which smoothed it down, but didn\u2019t change the fact that Juliet\u2019s dress was a victory and a loss at the same time.<\/p>\n

Oh, Henry remembered only too well the day Juliet and Miss Westlake, her governess for the last seven years, had come home from the dressmaker. Juliet had looked triumphant\u2014and stubborn, like a conqueror who knew his victory wouldn\u2019t come without a price; and Miss Westlake had looked…defeated. Devastated. And obstinate\u2014a look Henry had never seen on her before.<\/p>\n

While Juliet had danced up the stairs to her room, only her defiantly raised chin betraying that she wasn\u2019t completely content, Miss Westlake had demanded an audience with the Earl\u2014immediately. It all had ended with Miss Westlake leaving the house with a giant wardrobe trunk, and Juliet sitting in silence at the dinner table while their father watched her with thoughtful concern.<\/p>\n

Henry would never know the full story, but from the bits and pieces he, as he lingered in the hall purely by coincidence, had accidentally<\/em> overheard as the governess was laying charges before his father, as well as from the few tidbits his sister had given him, he understood that Miss Westlake had dared to try and force Juliet to buy a white dress. Which wasn\u2019t unreasonable, under normal circumstances. Debutantes were supposed to wear white, or at least ivory or cream, but white was the usual choice. Now Juliet disliked wearing white, for she thought\u2014not without reason\u2014it didn\u2019t suit her complexion, and everyone knew that. Everyone, including Miss Westlake\u2014she certainly even more than anyone else. And so another battle for supremacy had run its course.<\/p>\n

Seven years ago, when Miss Westlake had come to Barnstoke Hall to teach the little countess, Juliet had been delighted. Back then, Henry had thought she was happy about the prospect of having someone\u2019s full attention, but later he had understood that Juliet had expected nothing less than some kind of mother.<\/p>\n

Well, Miss Westlake was anything but a mother. She was stern, strict, and unforgiving. Well versed in many a subject, she taught Juliet a lot and was able to satisfy her questioning mind for a long time before Juliet learned to learn from books; but Miss Westlake failed in being likable. In the beginning Juliet tried hard to please her governess, but it never seemed to be enough, never good enough, never right<\/em>: Juliet found her own way to solve a mathematical problem? Wrong<\/em>. Juliet had new ideas about how to analyse Shakespeare\u2019s sonnets? Presumptuous<\/em>. Juliet had further questions? Insolent<\/em>. Juliet wanted to read more by Marlowe? Unnecessary<\/em>.<\/p>\n

In the end, Juliet didn\u2019t try to please Miss Westlake anymore. She fought her wherever she could, and with this last battle she had finally won the war.<\/p>\n

She had won the war by winning a completely insane battle over the colour of a ball gown: Miss Westlake had insisted on white, Juliet on cream. Apparently they had argued quite some time until the governess had made the fatal mistake of saying, \u201cYour mother would have wanted you to wear white.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry didn\u2019t have to have been there to know how Juliet\u2019s face must have gone stony, how her upper lip had gone stiff, her chin had risen an inch, and her jaw had set sternly. And he didn\u2019t have to have heard it to know her tone must have been contemptuous when she had replied, \u201cYou have no<\/em> way to know what my mother would want\u2014 or any<\/em> mother at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eventually Juliet had spotted a bale of wonderful thick dark scarlet silk, and commissioned a ball dress made out of that fabric. She had brushed off all objections from Miss Westlake with reference to who was paying for the dress\u2014and for Miss Westlake\u2019s salary after all.<\/p>\n

Surely it was this last unbelievable (and unforgivable) insult that had been the final straw, but Henry suspected that Miss Westlake\u2019s realisation that she had lost any governance over Juliet had played a major role in it, too. Be it as it may, that last battle had led to the governess\u2019s resignation, and to Juliet wearing an unsuitable dress on her great day.<\/p>\n

It had given Juliet freedom, and peace, and sovereignty; but it also made her an outsider among the other girls, even more than her height or her inability to talk about insignificant topics, and it clearly showed her idividualism and independence\u2014traits that would keep her from being what England\u2019s aristocracy considered an ideal marriage candidate.<\/p>\n

Henry had to bite his lip at this thought to keep himself from smirking\u2014even more so when he finally spotted Juliet at the far end of the big room, engaged in an animated conversation with a young man who did not belong to England\u2019s aristocracy, as Henry noticed with wry amusement.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour sister looks very pretty tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry nearly jumped. He hadn\u2019t realised he\u2019d been so deep in contemplation, but Jason\u2019s words had startled him as if he\u2019d been drawn out of a dream.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, yes, thank you,\u201d he replied awkwardly.<\/p>\n

Jason grinned. \u201cAnd very different to that shy sapling in your hand-me-down clothes at Cambridge…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShh!\u201d Henry glared at Jason. \u201cYou\u2019re getting us all into devil\u2019s kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCalm down, Henry, old house. No one is listening to us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry rolled his eyes. Jason Wodehouse was a fast friend, a smart student, and a good conspirator in sneaking Juliet into lectures at the university. But he also had a loose mouth and tended to be careless to the point of recklessness.<\/p>\n

Now he just winked and smiled unconcernedly when he went on, \u201cI prefer her like this anyway. That dress is…extraordinary but lovely. Very flattering. I didn\u2019t know she could be like this, so…attractive.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry crossed his arms and leaned back a bit while he looked at Jason, amazed.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you interested? I\u2019m sure father would be delighted….\u201d Oh, how the Earl of Barnstoke would be delighted. Jason was the first son of the honourable Lionel Wodehouse, sixth Earl of Elmsworth, and one day he would be a very wealthy man.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo!\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry just looked pointedly at his friend.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Jason repeated, this time a bit less urgently. \u201cSorry, Henry, mate, but no. I like your sister very much, you know that. She\u2019s got a good head on her shoulders, and there\u2019s no one I like to discuss Machiavelli with more than with her; but really, when I\u2019m going to get married one day, it will be to a woman who gives me a little rest from time to time. Someone who\u2019s happy with attending her social duties and looking after her family, and who leaves me to my own pleasures.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, it\u2019s not that Juliet isn\u2019t capable of following social conventions. She just needs her…latitude from time to time,\u201d Henry replied, suppressing a smile. It was just so hilarious to see Jason squirm.<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom time to time? She\u2019s talking about politics right now. At a ball.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, she\u2019s well informed and she likes to exchange viewpoints.\u201d Don\u2019t grin<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but people don\u2019t want to exchange viewpoints<\/em> at balls; especially not with girls.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWith Juliet it\u2019s different. You said it yourself: it\u2019s a pleasure to debate with her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jason looked very uncomfortable. He bit his lips, then straightened. \u201cHenry, right now she\u2019s talking to Will Lawrence about abolitionism.\u201d<\/p>\n

This time Henry couldn\u2019t help grinning. He knew where this was heading, and he enjoyed it immensely. \u201cAnd your point is?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jason made a sweeping gesture towards Juliet and her collocutor. \u201cShe\u2019s talking to Will Lawrence<\/em>, Henry,\u201d he said insistently. \u201cWill Lawrence, son of Abbott Lawrence, Minister to the Court of St. James\u2019s, the American ambassador. I\u2019m not sure he will like what Juliet has to say. Someone should tell her who he is.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was clear whom Jason had in mind for this task. Henry\u2019s grin became even broader.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d he said, raising his eyebrow into what was widely known as the Barnstoke Arch. \u201cI\u2019m absolutely sure Juliet knows perfectly well whom she\u2019s talking to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jason gaped; there was no other word for it. Then he chuckled, shook his head and laughed, \u201cOh, dear, you\u2019re right. You know she\u2019s a lost cause, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope not,\u201d Henry answered, suddenly sober; and then he kept watching Juliet and the ambassador\u2019s red-faced son exchange viewpoints<\/em> until it was his turn to dance with Isabel again.<\/p>\n

For the first time that night, he couldn\u2019t quite concentrate on the dance steps, and Isabel clearly was not amused by his uncharacteristic silence.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

IV. Boston<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Adam left the billiard room and reluctantly entered the hall. During these last two and a half years in Boston he\u2019d become quite adept at playing billiards, and as so often before he had made a little pocket money tonight. He wasn\u2019t a big gambler, but he found playing billiards was better than dancing. Not that Adam was opposed to dancing in general; oh, no<\/em>, there was nothing like a good barn dance. But dancing at socials in Boston was different. The girls were different: they kept their distance, tried to avoid contact with their partners as much as possible\u2014and how, please<\/em>, was Adam supposed to lead a girl through a waltz when he wasn\u2019t allowed to get a good grip on her?<\/p>\n

No, he didn\u2019t like that kind of dance very much, and he tried to avoid it as much as possible. Of course, attending a social with a dance, he was expected to do his share of dancing, but he always saw to it that he stayed away from it as much as politeness allowed.<\/p>\n

Fiona was an exception. She was just as proper as all the other girls, but if he understood the language of her eyes correctly, she would have loved to close the distance between the two of them, to maybe allow him to feel how the ivory skin of her arm felt; and that alone made him want to dance more with her than was modest.<\/p>\n

He sauntered to a table with refreshments, chose a fancy looking canap\u00e9, and while chewing on it searched for his golden girl. He found her easily: she was still standing in front of the sumptuously draped dark yellow curtain that clashed so gloriously with her pale pink dress, talking amiably to another girl in light blue. Her eyes flickered over the room from time to time, until they caught Adam\u2019s. Fiona blushed and looked down\u2014only to look up again a second later and hold his gaze. And then she sent that<\/em> smile to him, straight across the room and into his heart.<\/p>\n

Oh, that smile. Adam remembered the first time he had seen it, at the Keats\u2019 house, where Etienne had taken him to a soiree. Fiona\u2019s mother had played the piano and Fiona had sung, sung with that wonderful soprano that had filled the room, somersaulting around pillars and lusters to the ceiling and back to the stunned audience. And then, when she had finished, and Adam had taken heart and gone to congratulate her on her bravura, she had awarded him with that<\/em> smile.<\/p>\n

They had talked long after that, longer than Fiona\u2019s ever-observant mother had liked, and consequently they had been separated. But every time Adam had asked to see Fiona again in the next weeks and months, they had been given more time to speak, somehow in correspondence with the distinctive change in the way Mrs. Keats eyed him.<\/p>\n

Fiona was a well-read, highly educated girl. It was a pleasure to discuss Shakespeare\u2019s plays with her, Botticelli\u2019s pictures or Mozart\u2019s operas. Adam enjoyed spending time with her immensely; the evenings always seemed to be too short for all the books they wanted to talk about and all the songs they wanted to sing together, for all the just-being-together they wanted to share.<\/p>\n

Fiona listened to him talking about college, about his studies and fellow students, and she even listened to what he wanted to share with her about home. She laughed about Joe\u2019s antics, empathised with Hoss\u2019 love for every living creature, and said she\u2019d loved to meet him, when Adam spoke about Pa and how he had built his ranch out of nothing.<\/p>\n

He had never met a girl like her: beautiful, lovable, kind, cultured. Perfect in so many ways.<\/p>\n

And her smile, her smile<\/em>… It left Adam breathless. Always, infallibly. It never ceased to capture his heart, mind, soul, everything, never ceased to evoke feelings in him, and to stir up…something<\/em>.<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t proud of that. A reputable girl like Fiona shouldn\u2019t be associated with…something<\/em>, but Adam wasn\u2019t a saint, only a completely normal young man. Etienne, who at times was so perceptive that it was almost scary, suggested Madame Monique, but Adam dismissed the idea.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t beneath him to visit a brothel. In fact, before he had left for college, he had been to a place called Mrs. Jeffries<\/em> the few times he was able to go to Carson without Pa, and it always had been a pleasurable experience. But here in Boston, it was different. His studies didn\u2019t leave him time to work and earn money. Never having attended a proper school, Adam soon had realised that he was behind his fellow students. He had to work hard to catch up with them, and once he was on schedule he couldn\u2019t let it go anymore\u2014his hunger for knowledge being stronger even than his wish for financial independence, and so he lived on what his father and his grandfather gave him. He would never have considered spending the money that had been saved for his education on a lady of the evening. There were other ways to deal with his needs; maybe less satisfying\u2014but at least his room at his grandfather\u2019s house had a lock.<\/p>\n

Adam jangled the coins he had won earlier in his pocket. This money would go into the small wooden box in the first drawer of his desk at Grandpa\u2019s, just like all his winnings since the day he had met Fiona. This money was assigned for something special: a ring.<\/p>\n

He rattled the coins once again. He had saved a not-too-small amount by now, with which he was sure he already could buy something not too fancy, but modestly precious. Something that wouldn\u2019t outshine Fiona\u2019s beauty but compliment it and\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cAh oui<\/em>, you are watching la belle de f\u00eate<\/em>,\u201d a strong French accent woke him out of his musing. \u201cGood. She deserves to be watched.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEtienne, stop sneaking up on people like that,\u201d Adam said, poking his friend in the ribs. \u201cAnd I\u2019m not\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, but you are! And who am I to blame you? If she\u2019d looked at me like she looks at you, I wouldn\u2019t turn my eyes off her ever.\u201d<\/p>\n

Etienne tried and failed to impersonate Fiona, giving Adam a more sleepy than dreamy look, and for that received another dig in the ribs.<\/p>\n

He laughed good-naturedly and then leaned closer. \u201cAre you going to ask her tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Adam, don\u2019t deny you\u2019re contemplating to ask her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have to deny anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEtienne?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you or aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam felt the coins in his pocket. Was he or wasn\u2019t he? He looked over to Fiona, standing there, glancing at him time and again, waiting. Waiting<\/em>. For him?<\/p>\n

And suddenly the image of Fiona in that beautiful pink dress reminded him of a dream he\u2019d had half a year ago. It had been a rainy afternoon, and Etienne (who else?) had lured a group of students into an obscure bar somewhere close to the harbour. They had drunk absinthe there, and Adam had had the most extraordinary dream in which he had been walking through the London Zoo and watching the animals. At some point he had come across a pond full of beautiful flamingoes, and when he had reached out for one of the pink flustered animals, it had backed away.<\/p>\n

Would Fiona back away if Adam reached out for her?<\/p>\n

Well, I won\u2019t know if I don\u2019t try<\/em>.<\/p>\n

He briefly turned back to Etienne and winked before he made his way across the room.<\/p>\n

The whispered, \u201cBonne chance<\/em>!\u201d nearly didn\u2019t carry to him.<\/p>\n

Adam was half way to Fiona when suddenly another picture from that absinthe dream flashed through his mind: a tall graceful lioness, with golden fur and sparkling green eyes, who stood in front of him and hissed dangerously.<\/p>\n

He shook his head to get clear of the image. Surely, Fiona wasn\u2019t a lioness or anything even remotely dangerous at all.<\/p>\n

And then he was there, and Fiona smiled at him, and he took her hand and led her out of the room and onto the deserted patio.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

V. Brighton<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

It was easy to keep Juliet under constant surveillance while he danced with Isabel, Henry found. He just had to turn his head this way or that\u2014never quite fitting the dance steps they made or the direction the dance figures led them, but manageable. He chose to ignore Isabel\u2019s low huffs of annoyance, and deep inside he knew he was going to regret that later; but for now it couldn\u2019t be helped.<\/p>\n

Later he would swear there had never been a longer waltz in the history of balls, and most certainly never a more agonising\u2014which was in no way the waltz\u2019s fault, or Isabel\u2019s. Or Henry\u2019s, for that matter. It was being condemned to helplessly witness the proceedings around his sister that made time slow down so excruciatingly for him.<\/p>\n

While he and Isabel did the first few dance steps, he saw Will Lawrence performing an awkward bow to Juliet and then hastily retreating to the other side of the room, all but running.<\/p>\n

Juliet, smiling unaffectedly, watched the dancing couples and then searched the room while swaying slightly in time to the music. Henry saw her looking expectantly to a group of young men who had gathered near the dance floor; but none of them seemed to be aware of her, or of the fact that there was a girl in the room who had yet to be asked for a dance. In fact, it was as if they deliberately looked everywhere but where Juliet stood; and her hopeful glances bounced ineffectively off their backs.<\/p>\n

Then Waldo Bosham left a giggling Victoria Wainsworth with a rather amateurishly executed hand kiss and a low bow and ambled towards Juliet. Waldo Bosham, youngest son of Lord Pennington and<\/em> youngest member of the House of Commons, a tall strawberry blonde fellow with more freckles than Henry had ever seen on a person\u2019s face\u2014exactly the type of man Juliet had a soft spot for ever since she had been fourteen and seen a production of \u2018Much Ado About Nothing\u2019 with a tall, strawberry blonde, freckled actor playing the role of Benedick. And, predictably, Juliet bestowed Young Waldo with the most charming smile and came his way a step, making an inviting gesture.<\/p>\n

He was on the verge of leaving Isabel alone on the dance floor, when Bosham, pretending he didn\u2019t see her, ever-so-casually redirected his steps and strode away from Henry\u2019s little sister, looking straight the other way.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs everything all right, Henry?\u201d Isabel\u2019s question after his subsequent misstep didn\u2019t sound like an inquiry, but like a warning. \u201cYou do<\/em> remember that this is supposed to be a waltz?\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry had never seen her so indignant, but then again he never had failed so much at being a perfect gentleman and dance partner. For some reason, though, the displeasure made her face even more beautiful. Somehow vivacious.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was you who distracted me from the dance, Isabel,\u201d Henry whispered into her ear. \u201cHow can you expect me to function properly when you look so perfectly beautiful? When your eyes challenge the stars, your lips make the roses pale, and your hair\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m surprised you noticed that, Henry.\u201d Isabel was not the average, easy to pacify girl: she wouldn\u2019t let him get away with just a bit of flattery, even though she did look slightly less vexed. \u201cNow stop cajoling. Dance.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry must have looked rather sheepish at that, because Isabel\u2019s features softened even more, and then she actually smiled and said in a low voice, \u201cYou may sweet-talk me after the dance. If <\/em>you behave.\u201d<\/p>\n

He vowed to himself he would behave. Oh, he most certainly would behave. Just one<\/em> more check if Juliet was all right. Well, apparently she was. She had found her way to a group of other young girls, most of whom looked vaguely familiar to Henry.<\/p>\n

He was about to turn his attention back to Isabel when there suddenly was a bit of a commotion in the group, with several girls speaking at the same time and a lot of snickering only barely concealed by hands, and then he watched how one of them addressed Juliet with a face that spoke of spite and condescension.<\/p>\n

Juliet couldn\u2019t entirely hold back a hurt expression, but she composed her features quickly, raised her right eyebrow and said something to her assailant that, in Henry\u2019s experience, could only be a biting retort. It didn\u2019t come as a surprise when the girl\u2019s visible gasp confirmed his suspicion.<\/p>\n

And then Isabel hissed, \u201cWould you mind<\/em> looking at me while we dance, Henry? At least from time to time?\u201d<\/p>\n

The tone of voice was too much like a reprimand from Juliet to ignore it, and something Henry would rather not hear from the woman he planned to spend a lot of time with for, let\u2019s say, the rest of his life; and so he dutifully looked at Isabel\u2019s exasperated face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he mumbled.<\/p>\n

Her lips formed a thin line. A very thin line, thinner even than the thread of hope Henry had for reconciling with her tonight. And then she said pointedly, \u201cOh, you most certainly are.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry cringed. He didn\u2019t dare to look back at his sister, and when he finally found the guts to do so, Juliet had vanished. For the rest of the dance, Henry considered whether it was more important to pacify Isabel or to look after Juliet once the music died away.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

VI. Boston<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t this a beautiful night, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

Well, he guessed it was. From the corner of his eye Adam vaguely saw how Fiona indicated the sky. But how was he supposed to look there when she was standing so close to him? So close that he didn\u2019t need to look up. So close that he saw all the stars twinkling here in her face: bright silvery spots reflected by her eyes that seemed to consist only of huge round black pupils with just a small band of light blue surrounding them.<\/p>\n

Those eyes, those mesmerising eyes, the whole sky was captured in them\u2014or was it heaven? And then Fiona smiled. Heaven<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s mouth was on hers even before his hand had cupped her cheeks. It was hasty, sloppy, inexpert, but it was a kiss, a kiss, a kiss, a kiss; he was kissing Fiona, and she…was kissing back.<\/p>\n

She was kissing back<\/em>.<\/p>\n

They broke apart when realisation sank in, hit them both at the same moment; Fiona flushed, Adam breathless.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh God, I\u2019m sorry,\u201d he stuttered. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t have…I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

She gave him a smile. A new one. One that looked…mischievous. \u201cI\u2019m not,\u201d she said. \u201cIf this is why you dragged me out here, you should have done it much earlier.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s lips formed a small \u2018o\u2019 that slowly spread into a huge grin. \u201cI have to admit it crossed my mind, but I wasn\u2019t planning on anything.\u201d He laughed at her incredulous face and added, \u201cSeriously!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you had completely honourable intentions when you brought me out here, where we\u2019re all alone and no one can hear you…telling me what<\/em>, Adam?\u201d She smiled again, coyly this time, and then looked expectantly at him.<\/p>\n

It was time. Now or never, Cartwright<\/em>, Adam thought, and he cleared his throat that once again seemed to be strangled by that infernal bow-tie.<\/p>\n

\u201cUm, Fiona, you know I\u2019m going to graduate next year?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I…well, I suppose I\u2019ll be leaving Boston then.\u201d He paused, looked at her, waited for a reaction. This all was going so fast suddenly.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you have plans for then? Are you going back to your family, to the ranch?\u201d she inquired.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know yet. Honestly I…well, I know my father wants me to come back, but somehow…\u201d He didn\u2019t know how to put it into words. There was a longing, for more, for further, for wider\u2014not for back<\/em>. \u201cWould you<\/em> want to live on a ranch in Nevada?\u201d he finally asked.<\/p>\n

Fiona looked surprised, then frowned and searched his face. She blinked. \u201cI…yes. I think I would. If my family were to live there, I wouldn\u2019t mind. And I\u2019d love to meet your<\/em> family, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at him like a pupil at her teacher trying to figure out if she had given the right answer. But this wasn\u2019t a test, was it?<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I want to see my family, I really do. I miss them a lot. But I also…\u201d He gazed into the night. Behind the garden, he knew, was the sea. Well, not exactly behind the garden, but near enough to smell the faint scent of salt and wanderlust. \u201cThere\u2019s so much to see out there,\u201d he said, gesturing into the dark. \u201cSo much to explore, to learn, to try out. I\u2019d love to see places I\u2019ve only read about: London, Rome, Paris, Cairo…. Aren\u2019t you curious about the world, Fiona?\u201d<\/p>\n

She considered him a moment. \u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cI don\u2019t know what would be different in London\u2014although I\u2019ve heard they have wonderful theatres there. But they wouldn\u2019t show other plays than our theatres, would they?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess not. Or maybe they would, but that\u2019s not the point.\u201d He shook his head, frowning. \u201cWhat I want to know is how people live there, how people think there, what they do, and how, and….\u201d He trailed off, again not able to put into words what was driving him, and gave Fiona a questioning glance.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, it doesn\u2019t mean I wouldn\u2019t go there, Adam,\u201d she said brightly. \u201cIf my…family<\/em> would live there, I\u2019d be happy to make my husband a home there just as I would do it here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you would follow your husband wherever he wanted to go?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course! That\u2019s why people marry, isn\u2019t it? To live together. To support each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what do you<\/em> want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean: what do I<\/em> want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your dream, Fiona? What do you want from life?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to find a man I can love and who loves me.\u201d She blushed, but looked him straight in the eye. \u201cI want a family, children, a nice home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that all?\u201d<\/p>\n

She laughed. \u201cAdam! Is there more someone can wish for? A happy life, no less. What more could I want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. A goal? A purpose? Adventures? There are so many things life can offer.\u201d Again, his gaze was drawn to the dark garden, and the promises that lay beyond it. \u201cMaybe that\u2019s why I\u2019m hesitant to go back to Nevada: I\u2019m afraid I\u2019ll find life boring there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLife in Nevada doesn\u2019t have to be boring, Adam; it doesn\u2019t have to be boring anywhere.\u201d Fiona closed the distance between them and breathed a kiss onto his cheek. \u201cIs that boring, Adam?\u201d Another kiss. \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/p>\n

She took a step back, giving him time to compose his features. Her face was no longer that of a doll, but of a woman who knew what she wanted, Adam suddenly realised.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to lead a boring life either, Adam,\u201d she went on. \u201cI would be a good wife, I would raise my children well, and keep a good house; but I know there\u2019s more required for a fulfilling life: I would sing for my husband, and read poetry to him. We would have soirees and dinner parties; we would go to the theatre and to the opera, and we would read books and talk about them. We would visit galleries and exhibitions, and museums. That\u2019s the kind of life I want to live, that\u2019s the kind of wife I want to be: the kind of wife a man would want.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at him, her eyes wide, her smile inviting, then she pulled her lower lip between her pearly white teeth before she lowered her head and whispered, \u201cThe kind of wife you<\/em> would want, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam gazed at her, amazed, and shook his head. \u201cNo, I wouldn\u2019t want that.\u201d<\/p>\n

What he had said didn’t break through the turmoil of his agitated mind until about three seconds later, when he stood there\u2014suddenly alone with a burning left cheek\u2014and watched Fiona\u2019s very rigid back as she rushed back into the house. The sound of her sharp slap still rang in his ear, as well as her cry, \u201cHow dare you, Adam Cartwright!\u201d<\/p>\n

She was right: how dared he?<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

VII. Brighton<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

The question of whether to search for Juliet or to try and make up with Isabel had been taken out of his hands when, after Henry had escorted her from the dance floor, Isabel had icily dismissed his offer to get her a glass of champagne.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, but no,\u201d she had said, not even looking at him. \u201cI won\u2019t risk you bringing the glass to someone whose face you would rather see than mine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIsabel, I\u2019m sorry. Really, I am.\u201d He had been sorry, more than he could say. \u201cIt\u2019s just…Listen, there\u2019s no face I\u2019d rather see than yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that so?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI swear. I\u2019m so sorry, I was just looking out for Juliet\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJuliet?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s having a hard time tonight, being\u2026well, herself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh Henry, why didn\u2019t you tell me? Shall I\u2026arrange something?\u201d<\/p>\n

Could she get any lovelier?<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, she wouldn\u2019t want that,\u201d Henry had hastened to prevent further complications. If Juliet caught wind of any arrangements there would be a hurricane to deal with. Nevertheless, he had been determined to make use of Isabel\u2019s improving mood. \u201cIsabel…my beautiful, beautiful Isabel…\u201d He had taken her hand, and while at first she\u2019d tried to pull back he\u2019d felt her resistance faltering when he had looked deep into her eyes.<\/p>\n

It was high time for a dose of smoldering Barnstoke-charm, he had decided. He had bent over to her, that one inch too close for pure propriety, that one inch that told so much about his boldness and her allowance, and whispered huskily, \u201cThou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHenry….\u201d<\/p>\n

He had heard the ice melting in her voice and seen her blush adoringly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI may<\/em> have a glass of champagne now, after all,\u201d she had smiled lowering her head and sent Henry off with a squeeze of her hand.<\/p>\n

Everything would have gone well, had Henry not encountered his father on the way to the buffet table.<\/p>\n

\u201cHenry,\u201d the Earl had said cheerfully. \u201cAre you having a good time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA jolly good one. And you, Father?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Earl had grinned from ear to ear. \u201cSplendid, just splendid. I can\u2019t say that for Pennington, the old braggart, though. I\u2019ve just relieved him of ten guineas at whist.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTen<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTen.\u201d Henry\u2019s father had looked more than pleased. \u201cHe thinks he plays a wicked hand, but he\u2019s more predictable than a fox in a henhouse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now, I take it, you can\u2019t find another victim?\u201d Henry couldn\u2019t have hidden a grin. His father was a notoriously good player, but he always found someone who thought he could outsmart him.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Lord Dunsford was willing, but I\u2019ve heard that someone\u2019s supposed to perform some songs in a minute, and I wanted to make sure it isn\u2019t your sister.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJuliet wouldn\u2019t…\u201d Henry had turned around and searched the room. In a far corner a piano had been prepared, and some chairs, and people had already been making their way there. Juliet had been nowhere in sight. Thank God<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cWouldn\u2019t she?\u201d the Earl had queried. \u201cShe would if no one stopped her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry had chuckled. \u201cBy Jove, she would.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes, she would. Great God, she would<\/em>.<\/p>\n

He had cast another glance at the gathering at the piano. The girl in pale blue that had been admonished by Juliet earlier had stood there with her hands clasped and smiled shyly at her audience.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, apparently someone has<\/em> stopped her,\u201d his father had said and clapped his hands. \u201cLet\u2019s go and listen.\u201d<\/p>\n

And that had been Henry\u2019s prompt to go and search for Juliet. Someone had<\/em> stopped her; and he knew perfectly well when and who that had been. He knew he would have to deal with Isabel\u2019s annoyance later, and that it would take more than a dose of Barnstoke-charm to iron this out, but it couldn\u2019t be helped: he had to be sure his little sister was all right.<\/p>\n

He found her with no difficulty. Juliet would never retreat to a dark corner like a wounded animal. She would always go outside to where she wouldn\u2019t feel trapped.<\/p>\n

She stood at the far end of the Royal Pavilion\u2019s gardens under a fig tree, straight and upright, and stared into the dark. Her silhouette stood out against the starry sky and the lantern light from St. James Street.<\/p>\n

Henry shrugged out of his dress coat and draped it around Juliet\u2019s shoulders.<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t even turn, but pulled the coat closer and whispered, \u201cThank you, Henry.\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t answer, just stood there next to her and tried to find out where she was looking.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that the Royal Albion hotel over there?\u201d he finally asked, just to break the silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf it weren\u2019t for the Albion you could see the sea from here, don\u2019t you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, certainly. Isn\u2019t it amazing how you cannot see, but you can smell the water, Henry?\u201d Juliet strained her neck as if she thought she would be able to have a better look that way. \u201cIt smells like…fish and freedom.\u201d She snickered.<\/p>\n

\u201cFreedom, huh?\u201d Henry teased. \u201cIs the sea calling you again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s always calling me, Henry,\u201d Juliet said, far too seriously for his liking. \u201cSometimes I think my future lies there, somewhere beyond the sea.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomewhere beyond the sea, where people don\u2019t mind red dresses?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomehow I suspect people mind red dresses everywhere<\/em>, Henry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJuliet…What happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re lying.\u201d Henry gripped her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. \u201cDon\u2019t lie to me, Juliet. Just tell me. I saw you wanted to dance with Waldo, didn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to talk about Waldo, or any other of those arrogant dimwits.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry cringed at her tone. It was biting, but also hurt.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you have anyone\u2019s name on your dancing card?\u201d he asked cautiously.<\/p>\n

She pulled the card from somewhere and waved it in front of his face. \u201cOh, certainly. There\u2019s going to be a waltz after Margaret has her performance, and I have a…\u201d She looked at her card. \u201c…a P. P. Wilcox registered here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWilcox? Pelham the Dwarf?\u201d Henry couldn\u2019t stop bursting out.<\/p>\n

Juliet looked irritated. \u201cHe may be rather diminutive, but he\u2019s the only one brave enough to dance with the untouchable. He should be considered a hero.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t mean that, do you? Pelham the Dwarf is a pillock.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I know he\u2019s a pillock, Henry. But apparently he\u2019s pillock enough to want to dance with me, and I\u2019m hardly in a position to reject the only volunteer, am I?\u201d<\/p>\n

She flung the dancing card at Henry, barely missing his nose with it.<\/p>\n

Henry ducked. \u201cNo, I guess not. May I dance with you after him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need your pity.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do after you\u2019ve danced with the Dwarf.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve heard he is not a bad dancer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, he isn\u2019t. But he has a preference for tall women, and I have an idea why.\u201d<\/p>\n

Juliet stared at him. \u201cWhat…?\u201d And then it dawned on her. Unconsciously she crossed her arms over her chest. \u201cHenry, honestly!\u201d<\/p>\n

He raised an eyebrow. \u201cWell\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

Juliet narrowed her eyes and gazed at him, until she finally shook her head. \u201cYou\u2019re an idiot, Henry Heatherstone!\u201d<\/p>\n

And then she couldn\u2019t keep up her pretense of a straight face anymore, and shared the much-needed laughter with her brother.<\/p>\n

Henry knew he was pushing his luck, but now Juliet had rediscovered her humour he had to try again. \u201cWhat happened with that girl…Margaret?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHenry…no. It wasn\u2019t nice. I<\/em> wasn\u2019t nice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did she say?\u201d<\/p>\n

Juliet sighed. \u201cShe said that Lady Harriet had asked if someone would like to perform some songs, if you have to know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n

She breathed out again, this time rather forcefully. \u201cShe said she\u2019d volunteered even though it should have been me at my debut, but that\u2014\u201d She bit her lips.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that the only thing that was more strident than the colour of my dress was my singing, and that no one could be expected to be put up with that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Juliet…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd\u2014since you\u2019re asking for the full story, Henry\u2014and then she said I\u2019d been stupid anyway to choose such a dress, one I couldn\u2019t wear at my wedding. But then again, from the looks of it, there wouldn\u2019t be a wedding for me anyhow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry reached out for her, but Juliet backed off.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then,\u201d she said very quietly. \u201cAnd then I<\/em> said, that that wouldn\u2019t be a problem because after all I<\/em> didn\u2019t have<\/em> to marry.\u201d<\/p>\n

It took a moment to sink in. Magaret Tennhall was the sister of Elisabeth Tennhall, who had married last October after a suspiciously short engagement, and given birth to a healthy son in March. Of course, no one would admit to doing the math. No wonder Margaret had looked so shocked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI shouldn\u2019t have said that.\u201d Juliet\u2019s voice was even lower now. \u201cIt was her sister, and even if it had been Margaret\u2014who am I to judge? I shouldn\u2019t have said that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe wasn\u2019t very friendly herself, don\u2019t you think? She shouldn\u2019t have said what she did either.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not a reason to be mean. That\u2019s not…. I don\u2019t want to hurt people, Henry. I don\u2019t want to do that. It\u2019s just…sometimes, when they hurt me, I get angry and then I can\u2019t hold it back and…\u201d She looked up. \u201cI don\u2019t want to hurt people.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you\u2019ll have to learn to keep your temper.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut this won\u2019t be the last time it\u2019ll get the better of you. You\u2019ll have to learn to apologise, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded again.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd maybe you can also learn to forgive yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled faintly. \u201cIsn\u2019t that a bit much?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Not for you. You can learn everything you want to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho says I want to learn?\u201d Now that she was back to the common ground of a good old battle of wits, she sounded much brighter.<\/p>\n

\u201cI<\/em> say that,\u201d Henry grinned. \u201cBecause you\u2019re always willing to learn what\u2019s required. And believe me, Juliet, that is what is required, here, there and beyond the sea, where apparently your future lies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou say that like a tease, but I honestly think\u2014no, just listen, Henry. I don\u2019t know what\u2019s waiting out there for me, but I\u2019d like to find out what I can achieve. I can\u2019t imagine going to balls and looking for a husband is all I was made for. There are so many things for me to see, so many things to learn, so many things to do. I want to find out why I am on this earth, what I\u2019m supposed to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what if you\u2019re supposed to go to balls and look for a husband?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomehow I can\u2019t believe that. And obviously I\u2019m not very good at it anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t even look disappointed, Henry thought. But surely she didn\u2019t want to spend her life alone, did she?<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, maybe you\u2019ll be better at it beyond the sea<\/em>. Perhaps one day you\u2019ll find a husband there. A maharajah, maybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

She laughed. \u201cYes, why not? Or perhaps a professor at T\u00fcbingen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr a Slavic prince?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAn Indian chief?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr maybe a simple cowboy?\u201d Henry grinned broadly.<\/p>\n

Juliet gave him a short slap on his arm. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t mind a cowboy…if he has freckles and is brave enough to dance with me.\u201d She looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled lopsidedly. \u201cAnd if he reads an occasional book.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJuliet, you won\u2019t find a cowboy out there who reads Marlowe.\u201d<\/p>\n

She gazed at him and tapped her finger against her pursed lips. Obviously she was warming up to the idea. \u201cWell, who knows? Maybe at this very minute, there\u2019s some Bill or Bob out there in the prairie, sitting under a brilliant star-spangled sky by his campfire, sipping at his coffee and reading from a book of poetry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDreaming of a girl he could read it to, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, exactly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd that would be a man you\u2019d marry?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI tell you what, Henry: if I ever meet a dashing cowboy, who\u2019s tall and courageous and loves Marlowe, I\u2019ll marry him right on the spot.\u201d<\/p>\n

Henry laughed. \u201cYou can\u2019t do that. If you marry a cowboy, you\u2019ll have to muck stables.\u201d<\/p>\n

Juliet still looked cheerful, but her tone was sober. \u201cFor the right man I\u2019d muck stables. As you said, I can learn everything that\u2019s required.\u201d She gave him a mischievous smile. \u201cI\u2019d even learn how to cook!\u201d<\/p>\n

Their laughter flared up again as Henry turned her back towards the Pavilion.<\/p>\n

When they reached the great doors to the Music Room, a short, strawberry blond man shot out of the crowd. \u201cI believe this is our dance, Lady Juliet,\u201d he said, holding his hand out to her, and she accepted it with a regal nod and a graceful smile.<\/p>\n

Henry watched as P. P. Wilcox steered Juliet onto the dance floor and the couple started a surprisingly harmonious waltz.<\/p>\n

From the look on his face, the Dwarf was in heaven. And Juliet? Henry nearly laughed out loud. Juliet had a dreamy, far away expression that easily could be misinterpreted as indicating a romantic sentiment towards her dance partner. But Henry was sure, were Pelham the Dwarf able to look into Juliet\u2019s eyes, he would see the silhouette of a cowboy sitting at his campfire under a starry night sky and reading from a book of poetry.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

VIII. Boston<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Adam didn\u2019t know how long he had been standing there on the dimly torch-lit patio, with his arms and shoulders hanging limp and his eyes trying to bore holes into the darkness of the back garden. He wished he could say he was feeling numb, but he felt traitorous and rotten, mean and verminous, villainous and nefarious, ignoble and\u2014<\/p>\n

No. He had to stop that. He knew there were at least twenty more synonyms he could find for how he felt, for how Fiona had every right to designate him, but to list them all and more would not conceal the fact that he also felt very relieved.<\/p>\n

However, he had no right to feel relieved. He should feel ashamed, and he should go and apologise to Fiona. Well, he felt ashamed, and he would go and apologise, just not tonight. He\u2019d only hurt her more if he spoke to her now (if she\u2019d even let him at all) and it certainly would be for the better if he\u2019d figured out what went wrong before he tried to explain it to her.<\/p>\n

The funny thing was that he knew exactly what he didn\u2019t<\/em> want, but he hadn\u2019t had the faintest idea of what he was precisely looking for.<\/p>\n

He sensed the presence of another person more than he heard one approaching, but he knew it was Etienne, even before his friend spoke up. At the Ponderosa it would have been Hoss; here, far from home, it was always Etienne, his brother in everything but the designation.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d It was amazing how much French accent could go into just one word. And how much concern.<\/p>\n

Adam heaved a deep sigh, hoping against hope that it would make Etienne give up.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat didn’t go so well, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam crossed his arms and continued staring into the dark. He even squinted his eyes to emphasise he was busy with…staring.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid she say no?\u201d<\/p>\n

This time Etienne touched his shoulder; there was no way to feign unawareness any longer.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, what?\u201d Adam asked, finally turning to face his friend.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid she say no?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen…what?\u201d Etienne threw his hands in the air. \u201cMon dieu<\/em>, Adam! When she didn\u2019t say no, then why are you sulking out here and Fiona is fuming in there? What happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI<\/em> said no.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou…? What, did she propose to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKinda.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you said no.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, oh.\u201d<\/p>\n

Etienne made a noise that could only be a choked snigger. \u201cBon sang<\/em>, Adam!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam didn\u2019t see the humour in it, really; but somehow Etienne\u2019s futile attempts to hide amusement brightened his mood and he readily agreed when Etienne suggested they leave the party and talk somewhere else.<\/p>\n

On the way through the hall he caught a brief glimpse of Fiona, who looked a bit pale but was surrounded by a barricade of girls, obviously bathing in their sympathy. He was glad the girls were too busy with providing comfort to notice him passing by\u2014he wasn\u2019t sure he would have survived the piercing arrows of their glares.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Frank was surprised when they excused themselves so early, but after scrutinizing Adam\u2019s flushed face and weak smile, she send him off with a \u201cGet well soon!\u201d and a motherly touch to his cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam, Adam,\u201d Etienne said as they walked down Beacon Street. \u201cWhat is it with you and the women? Either they want to marry or they want to mother you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam gave him a lopsided smile. \u201cYes, or they want to slap me,\u201d he said touching his left cheek where he was sure the imprint of Fiona\u2019s fingers was still visible. \u201cI never knew they could be so strong.\u201d<\/p>\n

They went on, alongside the Public Garden where the strong scent of lilac pleased their noses, until Etienne abruptly halted at Spruce Street.<\/p>\n

\u201cMadame Monique?\u201d he suggested, gesturing down the road. \u201cIf you ever needed to go there, Adam, it would be now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam gazed down the street. He felt the money in his pocket, his billiard-winnings. His<\/em> money, not his father\u2019s or his grandfather\u2019s. His money, which wasn\u2019t designated to buy a token of love anymore. Could it be squandered on buying a bit of relief now?<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he said even before he thought it. \u201cNo, that wouldn\u2019t be…fair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFair?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFair. Respectful of Fiona.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam, this has nothing to do with Fiona, it\u2019s just\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam shook his head. \u201cNo. This is all about Fiona, and I wouldn\u2019t disgrace her by…substituting.\u201d<\/p>\n

Etienne stared at him for a full minute, or at least it felt so, before he slapped him on his upper arm and said, \u201cMon dieu<\/em>, Adam. Come, let\u2019s go to the riverbanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

They walked down Spruce Street, passing Madame Monique\u2019s without even giving it a glance, and then turned into Mt. Vernon Street until they reached the riverbanks. The landfill had left something that faintly resembled a beach. Not like the white sands of San Francisco Bay, though, merely soil that slowly became overgrown with grass and weeds. There was a low dike separating the new land from the older parts, and even though Adam knew you weren\u2019t supposed to step on those, he and Etienne raced up and down the elevation after his friend cried out, \u201cLast one with wet feet buys breakfast tomorrow!\u201d and sped straight ahead.<\/p>\n

As usual they reached their destination at the same time, both with one foot firmly anchored in the soft soil and the other stretched out as if they\u2019d really planned to ruin their shoes in the muddy waters of the Charles River.<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks as if it\u2019s going to be Mrs. Bostridge again,\u201d Adam laughed breathlessly, fully knowing that that was what Etienne wanted to hear. His grandfather\u2019s housekeeper made the best pancakes in the whole known world, and if there was one thing Etienne loved, it was pancakes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I\u2019m afraid it is so,\u201d Etienne said deadpan, and then he grinned. \u201cHallelujah!\u201d<\/p>\n

The starry sky illuminated the banks just enough to ensure them safe footing as they slowly made their way along the riverside. They walked quietly, until they saw the lights of West Boston Bridge in the distance, and they simultaneously stopped to admire the play of the gaslights on the dark waters.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam,\u201d Etienne eventually spoke up. \u201cWhat happened tonight? I thought you loved her.\u201d<\/p>\n

This time Adam didn\u2019t try to avoid the conversation, only to stall a bit. He picked up a flat stone from the banks and threw it into the river so that it skipped a few times over the surface.<\/p>\n

\u201cI do.\u201d He threw a second rock, counted the skips. Five, not bad<\/em>. \u201cI really do love her,\u201d he said, and he heard the surprise in his voice. \u201cI just don\u2019t want to spend the rest of my life with her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Etienne\u2019s rock beat his by two skips. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s nothing wrong with her. She\u2019s completely…she\u2019s just like all the other girls. They all seem to have the same dream: to find a husband, have children, and care for their families.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you…don\u2019t like that?\u201d Etienne threw another stone. Four skips only.<\/p>\n

Adam chose a particularly flat stone. He studied the welts and scratches on it and weighed it in his hand. \u201cIt scares me,\u201d he said finally. \u201cIt scares me, because if it is their only dream, and if I marry such a girl, then her dream will be fulfilled. And then? What\u2019s left of a person who hasn\u2019t got a dream anymore?\u201d<\/p>\n

He threw the stone with a vengeance, and satisfied he watched how it hit the water hard and with a hefty splash, and then sank down unceremoniously.<\/p>\n

\u201cA person without a dream is dead.\u201d He looked at Etienne. \u201cI don\u2019t want to be responsible for the death of another person, and I don\u2019t want to be married to a dead woman.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam…\u201d Etienne said quietly. \u201cWhat is it that you are looking for then, mon ami<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam gazed over the water, sniffing. There it was again, the smell of the sea. \u201cI want the impossible, Etienne. I want a woman with a spark. A woman with dreams, with plans and ideas, with a longing for something everybody thinks is impossible to have; a woman who\u2019s never fully satisfied. A woman who lives.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not impossible, Adam. There are women like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but I also want her to be loving and kind, to be loyal and caring. And I want her to dream of having a husband and children, and of caring for her family, too.\u201d He looked back at Etienne and smiled sheepishly. \u201cI know that you can\u2019t have both, but I still want it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Etienne grinned. \u201cYou give up too easily, Adam.\u201d He turned and went on a hunt for the perfect stone closer to the dike. \u201cIt\u2019s not impossible to find such a woman,\u201d he said from back there. \u201cThe Queen of England, for example, is a woman with visions and ideas, and still she\u2019s a devoted wife to that enviable husband of hers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to marry a queen.\u201d Adam knew he sounded like a child, but really, what was his friend thinking.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you have to. The woman you want is not an ordinary woman, she is a queen. She will try to rule over you, and you will try to rule over her, and apart from the tussling you two will have a wonderful life.\u201d<\/p>\n

It sounded…good. Strange, yes, but good. A queen. Why n\u2014 no, he wouldn\u2019t say \u201cwhy not\u201d ever again.<\/p>\n

Etienne came back to the shore, and let his find skip the water six times. He grinned at Adam and presented him a stone from his new collection. \u201cYour try.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam looked down at his hand and saw a consummate throwing object. He leaned back slightly, took careful aim, and then, with a long fluid motion, swerved the stone onto the water.<\/p>\n

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that\u2019s impossible!\u201d Etienne cried. \u201cWhat have you done? Magic?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam laughed. \u201cThat\u2019s not impossible, that\u2019s a question of technique and determination.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, really? You can do it again? The impossible?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, I can\u2014\u201d Adam faltered. \u201cYou sneaky buzzard!\u201d<\/p>\n

They grinned at each other; Adam pushed Etienne, Etienne pushed Adam, they scuffled, nearly falling over; then Adam gave Etienne a slap on the back of his head and they dissolved into laughter.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are right, though,\u201d Adam said when he regained the ability to speak. \u201cThe impossible is only impossible if you don\u2019t try.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMais oui<\/em>!\u201d Etienne sang genially, spread his arms out to and bowed to an unseen audience.<\/p>\n

They slowly wandered back the way they had come, crossed the dike at Mt. Vernon Street and sauntered through the quiet night of the town.<\/p>\n

The closer they came to his grandfather\u2019s house, the stronger the smell of the sea seemed to become, and once again, Adam felt the longing, the urge to see what was on the other side of the big pond. The impossible, possibly<\/em>, he thought wryly.<\/p>\n

Yes, he always wanted the things that seemed impossible. And in the end<\/em>, he realised with sudden clearness, I manage to get them.<\/em> He had survived the way to the West. He had learned to trust and love yet another mother. He had taught his brother Joe the rule of three. He had kept his father from the bottle when Marie died. He had been accepted at college.<\/p>\n

He could have everything he wanted if he only tried.<\/p>\n

Maybe even a queen.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

IX. Epilogue: March 10th, 1861<\/strong><\/p>\n

Virginia City<\/p>\n

Juliet was frustrated. She had inspected more horses than she\u2019d ever had the desire to see in a single day, and yet the right horse hadn\u2019t been among them.<\/p>\n

She wasn\u2019t sure why Sam Clemens had made her promise she\u2019d buy a horse at the Ponderosa\u2014they had lots of mounts here, but none of them seemed appropriate for her and her needs.<\/p>\n

Well, knowing Sam, this probably wasn\u2019t about horses at all. Juliet still thought she didn\u2019t necessarily have to own a horse and that it would be the far better to just rent one whenever she needed it; but she had promised to buy one. She had never broken her promises before, and she wouldn\u2019t start that with this one. Not with a promise she\u2019d given Sam, and most certainly not after all he had done for her.<\/p>\n

Involuntarily she took a firmer grip on the arm of Mr. Cartwright as he led her from the corral back to the ranch house. She wouldn\u2019t think of the past now. Those things were over and done; this was supposed to be a new beginning: a new town, a new job, new people.<\/p>\n

New people. She was looking forward to having another friendly chat with Mr. Cartwright, who was a charming elder gentleman, polite and well mannered, and a perfect host. He had just offered tea and apple pie while they took a break from searching for the right horse, and Juliet was looking forward to that, too. Mr. Hop, the Cartwright\u2019s Chinese housekeeper, already had proven at lunch that he was an excellent cook, and his apple pie surely wouldn\u2019t disappoint.<\/p>\n

Not like the horses Mr. Cartwright and his two sons had shown her so far. They had offered her sturdy work horses, versatile Indian ponies, calm draft horses, and at one point the youngest son, Joseph, or Joe<\/em>, as he\u2019d insisted on being called, had presented to her a snow-white horse with a waving long mane. Well, she wasn\u2019t a cowboy, she wasn\u2019t a squaw, she wasn\u2019t a farm wife, and she most certainly wasn\u2019t one of those silly little girls someone like Joe Cartwright would invite for ride-outs, so she couldn\u2019t picture herself on any of those horses; and she\u2019d tried to get that across to the men who had seemed more and more at a loss.<\/p>\n

But could you explain to men who worked with their horses, for whom a horse was merely a tool, that you wanted a mount that suited<\/em> you? A horse you would ride to get from one point to another, but also for pleasure only? A horse you planned to train for dressage?<\/p>\n

Maybe she could try to discuss that with the older son, Erik, no, Hoss<\/em>. Tall and broad Hoss, a man like an oak tree, with the friendliest grin she had ever seen and eyes as blue as the sky over the sea at Brighton, as blue as\u2026Henry\u2019s. Somehow she was sure he would understand.<\/p>\n

But then explanations became unnecessary, when they rounded the corner of the barn and she saw a new horse tied to the hitching rail next to the ranch house: a tall chestnut horse with three white socks. It had a strong chest, an elegant head, and long, delicate legs. Not the typical horse for this terrain, but a proud, strong and noble mount.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis horse, why didn\u2019t you show me this horse? This is exactly the horse I want.\u201d She disentangled herself from Mr. Cartwright\u2019s arm, crossed the yard to the horse, and gently stroked its muzzle, cooing, \u201cHey, my boy. Now aren\u2019t you a beauty?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss was next to her only a second later. Taking hold of the horse\u2019s head collar as if there was a need to protect her from the animal he said, \u201cYa shouldn\u2019t touch a horse ya don\u2019t know, Miss Juliet. Ol\u2019 Sport here don\u2019t like strangers very much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe seems quite friendly, Hoss,\u201d Juliet replied in irritation. She couldn\u2019t see anything dangerous in this magnificent mount, and she had made up her mind anyway. \u201cHe seems to like me; and I like him. How much is he?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMa\u2019am, this here horse is not fer sale. He\u2019s my brother\u2019s horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

Of course<\/em>. She sighed. Things were never that easy. And clearly, this horse had been ridden shortly before, so it had to belong to someone. Well, everything had a price, and she was willing to pay whatever that price was. Within reasonable limits.<\/p>\n

She turned to look for Hoss\u2019 brother and found Joe, who had caught up with them, right behind her. She fixed him with the stern Barnstoke-glare that usually got her what she wanted. \u201cJoe, you surely don\u2019t need two mounts. How much do you want for this horse?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Miss Juliet, you got that wrong,\u201d Joe replied. \u201cThis is our other<\/em> brother\u2019s horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now she was surprised\u2014another brother? How many sons did Mr. Cartwright have?<\/p>\n

Well, it didn\u2019t matter from whom she bought the horse. She tsked and raised an eyebrow. \u201cMaybe he<\/em> wants to sell it then,\u201d she said, just a tad annoyed.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, he doesn\u2019t,\u201d answered a new voice from the porch. A clearly amused voice, a dark, pleasant baritone, warm and soft, and with just a hint of sarcasm that made the man behind that voice interesting even before she saw him.<\/p>\n

Juliet turned to face the newcomer but paused when she saw the owner of the voice coming down from the porch and rounding the horse.<\/p>\n

He was tall and well built, with olive skin and raven black hair; and he moved with the grace of a wildcat until he stopped in midstride and just stood and gazed at her. His smile created dimples on his five o\u2019clock shadowed cheeks, and his eyes\u2026Oh, his eyes!<\/em><\/p>\n

Juliet knew she should be scandalised at being confronted by a sweaty man in filthy work clothes, but all she was aware of was that smile, and those eyes that were burning into her soul and kindling a flame there she\u2019d thought long gone out.<\/p>\n

Those mesmerising eyes the colour of the dark rich malt whisky her father had favoured\u2026she could get lost in those eyes, she realised; and that thought filled her with warmth and chill at the same time.<\/p>\n

After what seemed like an eternity, he offered her his hand. \u201cHello. I think we haven\u2019t met yet, Miss. I\u2019m Adam Cartwright.\u201d His warm voice washed over her like a gentle caress, and for a moment she imagined wrapping it around herself like a soft blanket.<\/p>\n

She took his hand and smiled. \u201cHow do you do, Mr. Cart\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam, please say Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam.\u201d She tested the name, let it roll on her tongue; and it tasted delicious. Suddenly all she wanted was to hear her name spoken in his dark, resonating tone. \u201cI\u2019m pleased to meet you. I am Juliet Heatherstone. Juliet<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJuliet.\u201d It was not just her name: it was a tune.<\/p>\n

She beamed at him, Adam<\/em>. It was all she could do to suppress the urge to ask him, \u201cYou don\u2019t happen to like Marlowe, do you?\u201d And with amazement, she saw the sparks her eyes were sending him reflected in his amber pools of liquid fire.<\/p>\n

Her new life had just taken a very promising turn.
\n__________________________________________________<\/p>\n

Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don\u2019t matter and those who matter don\u2019t mind. ~ Dr. Seuss<\/em><\/p>\n

You know you\u2019re in love when you can\u2019t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. ~ Dr. Seuss<\/em><\/p>\n

*** fin ***<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Thank you so much, Sandpur, Joaniepaiute, and Sklamb, for some terrific beta-reads, for your encouragement and your friendship<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

\u00a0***<\/p>\n

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Next Story in The Art-Universe Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Home Sweet Home or The Art of Settling Down<\/a> Clementine Hawkins\u2019s story.<\/p>\n

My Story Index<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Prequel set in Adam’s college years in Boston. A formal ball, a friendly social, a red dress, a flamingo, and the sea, the sea! The beginning of Adam’s complicated love life, and, somewhere beyond the sea, someone’s first tentative steps into becoming The Queen. Can be read by itself, yet it is a part of the \u201cArt\u201d series, and best read after \u201cThe Art of Setting Priorities\u201d. <\/p>\n

12,750 words, rated K<\/p>\n

The Art-Universe series, links to all the stories within the series included.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":20,"featured_media":8959,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[1005,7,23,30,3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2916","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adam-cartwright","category-a-u","category-drama","category-prequels","category-romance","wpcat-1005-id","wpcat-7-id","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-30-id","wpcat-3-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Somewhere1-e1405509498935.jpg?fit=560%2C327&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2916","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/20"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2916"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2916\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/8959"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2916"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2916"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2916"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}