The Memoirs Of A Young Victorian Lady Ch. 2

Siobhan and I began to immediately begin preparations for the wedding. She was my Maid of Honor and promptly took upon herself the full responsibility for managing the event. She, of course, had been married herself, and informed me that afterwards she had been a bridesmaid for a close friend in Boston, so she knew precisely what would be involved. We began to construct lists of guests and various plans for dresses and such, and had an inordinate amount of fun doing so.

James, on the other hand, considered this so much folderol, and one night at dinner informed us so, insisting that it would be so much simpler simply to call in the local magistrate and get it over with. At my shocked look, Siobhan took him to task. "James,", she started, "allow me to explain how this works."

Pointing to me, Siobhan said, "Caroline's entire job is to show up in a long white dress, looking as beautiful as imaginable. Other than that, her entire responsibility is to have as much fun as possible." Next she pointed at Mister Singh at the end of the table, looking on amusedly. "Mister Singh's responsibility is to make sure that you are at the church, on time, dressed decently, and sober. Other than that, his entire responsibility is to have as much fun as possible." Hooking a thumb at herself, she said, "My job is to run the whole show, and have as much fun as possible."

Finally pointing at James, she continued, "Your job is to show up at the church, clean, dressed, and sober, and marry the girl. You will note that I have said nothing about enjoying yourself. You may do so if you wish, but that will most assuredly be an afterthought. Do you understand things, now?"

"Ye Gods, Siobhan! It's just, well, the plans you two are making are going to cost a fortune!", he complained.

Siobhan smiled breezily and brightly, and said, "Well, just send the bills to the bride's family, then. After all, it's their responsibility to pay, isn't it?"

"But I'm the bride's family!", he roared.

"Funny how that worked out, isn't it?", she said with an innocent smile.

James stared at all of us for a moment, then surrendered unconditionally. Throwing his hands up in the air, he said, "Oh, so be it, do as you will! Just make sure that when we have this three ring circus, that I get to ride one of the elephants!" He took my hand in his and kissed it, and simply began rolling his eyes as Siobhan and I continued our plans. Ahkbar snickered at his end of the table and took his leave; we all heard him roaring in laughter from the kitchen.

November began with a terrible calamity. Ahkbar Singh was normally the most robust of gentlemen; despite being ten years older than James he had an iron constitution and was in supreme health. It was Siobhan who first noticed that he seemed to be moving a little slower and was tiring easily. However, once she mentioned it to me, I began to notice as well, and mentioned it to James. James scoffed at the idea, saying that Ahkbar had never been sick a day in his life, even in India, and that we must have been imagining things. Even he grew concerned, however, when Mister Singh excused himself from supper the first Saturday night in November and retired to his room without eating.

The next morning, we all awoke to a great crash and scurried down the hall to Ahkbar's rooms, wrapping our robes around us as we went. Maude, one of the cooks, had brought a pot of tea to Mister Singh's rooms, as it was his custom to start the day with tea, after making the first of his five prayers towards Mecca. She found him laying on the bed, drenched in sweat, barely able to move, and had dropped the tea service in her panic. We rushed to him and James examined him closely, then turned to us and said, "We need a Doctor!"

Jumping from the bedside where I had been helping, I ran from the room, calling for assistance as I made my way downstairs. I saw Mister Strong out the back door of the kitchen, leading Excalibur back into the barn from an early morning workout, and I rushed out to him. "Mister Singh, he needs a Doctor!", I cried out, "Hurry, we must get the Doctor immediately! He's dying!"

Mister Strong stared at me as if I was mad, then looked up as Siobhan ran from the house saying the same thing. Excalibur was still in full harness, and he swung himself up into the saddle effortlessly. By now, several other of the workhands had gathered around at the commotion, and he pointed at two of them. "Hitch up a coach and follow me into town. I'll find the Doctor and get him ready. Break the horses if you have to, but get there and back before they die, understand!" With that he tore off down the lane and out to the road. The coach was rigged with alacrity, with everybody helping, so much so that it was almost comical, for Mister Singh, for all his foreign ways, was considered by all to be a fine gentleman and a friend, and was greatly loved by those who knew him. It went thundering down the lane shortly thereafter, and Siobhan and I ran back inside to tell James that the Doctor was being summoned.

I hurried to my rooms and changed into something decent, then spent the next thirty minutes going from Ahkbar's bedside to the front porch and back, as if my movements would spur the Doctor in arriving. Finally he did so, with Mister Strong and Excalibur in the lead, and the Doctor bouncing along in the wildly bounding carriage. The horses were lathered in sweat, and the Doctor seemed in almost as great a state of agitation at the extreme speed of the trip. Mister Strong bundled him up the stairs and ran him down to Mister Singh's rooms. He took one look around and threw everyone else out, while he examined Ahkbar.

The diagnosis - pneumonia! He said that it was obvious that Mister Singh had tried to ignore the early signs and had continued his normal and active routine, and that this had made things even worse. There was little any of us could do but make him more comfortable. Mister Singh was very ill, indeed, and the next few days would be crucial. While he doubted whether a great contagion was involved, he warned us not to allow very many people to have contact with him. His general prognosis was bleak.

James detailed Siobhan and I to stand watch while he changed into clothing as well, then we all began a veritable deathwatch for the next week. Ahkbar's breathing was quite labored and he had fits of fever and delirium as well. The three of us stood watch day and night, napping in chairs, while the maidservants brought food and drink to the door. The Doctor visited twice a day, but was able to do little. Finally, about midday on Friday, the crisis seemed to pass. Ahkbar's temperature dropped to normal and he began to breathe easily, though he was still overly tired and weak, and we wept with the relief that we all felt. He dined with us that afternoon, the four of us in his room, gathered about his bed, and informed him of just what had been going on.

Afterwards, Siobhan and I excused ourselves, announcing our intentions to take the first decent baths we would have in almost a week, and James stayed behind. Siobhan would spell James later, and allow James and I some rest. I trudged to my room and bathed, then slipped into a short but comfortable and loose cotton shift, and crawled into James' bed, falling rapidly asleep.

I awoke late at night, as James came into the room and began preparing for bed. "Ahkbar?", I asked.

James called out from the bath, where he was bathing, and said, "Getting better by the hour. He was dozing when I left, and Siobhan was staying with him." James came forth from the bath wearing a dressing gown, which he promptly doffed and climbed into bed with me.

I rolled towards him and wrapped my arms around him, embracing him with joy at his news. It was then that I discovered his nakedness, and more, that his manhood was stiffly pointing towards me under the covers. "James!", I exclaimed, "I guess you are happy!"

James roared with laughter, pushing me back onto the bed, then crawled atop me and rudely pushed my shift to my waist. He sank into me and gave me the most vigorous of fucks, causing me to spend countless times before exploding inside me. Afterwards, we cuddled, but as I rolled away from him, to begin to drift off to sleep, James rolled with me and I found his manhood pressing against my buttocks. Giggling, I lifted my leg up slightly, and James pressed into me from behind. He rogered me furiously from the rear, grasping my hips and thrusting madly into me before we both spent again.

Late that night, I aroused slightly at James moving in the bed. "Sssshhh, my love, I simply want to check on Ahkbar.", he whispered, and I drifted off again. I awoke when James came back into the room.

Looking up at him, I discovered a most thoughtful look on his noble face, lighted by the moonlight drifting through the windows. "James, is everything all right? Is Ahkbar...?"

He glanced at me and gave me a wry smile. "Ahkbar..., Ahkbar is just fine, just fine. Siobhan is with him, tending to his needs."

I closed my eyes and James rejoined me in our bed. I threw an arm across his manly chest and wrapped a leg across his, this being my favorite position for sleep, but was surprised when I came into contact with his cock, stiff beneath the covers. My eyes snapped open and I looked up at my beloved. "James?!"

James gave me an embarrassed smile, and said, "Um, well, as I said, Siobhan is tending to his needs."

I came fully awake at the realization of what James was saying. Further, I was well aware of James voyeuristic tendencies, knowing full well (though he was unaware of my knowledge) how much he enjoyed watching others perform the acts of love. I reached under the bedcovers and lightly stroked his massive cock, at which he gave forth a low moan. "Really, James, she was tending to his needs?" Grasping his shaft lightly, I pumped it gently, causing James to groan lowly. "And just how was she tending to him?"

"Like that.", he gasped.

I pumped him a few times more, and asked, "Was that all?"

"No, no.", he muttered weakly.

"Really?" I pushed the bedclothes off of us and gazed down at his strong physique. Lowering my head to his groin, I gently licked his cockhead, which quivered on my tongue. I could taste the salty and sweet essence which trickled from the tip. "Was she tending him this way?"

"No, she was..., she was on top.", he replied weakly.

I sat upright and straddled my fiancée. Lowering my heated and wet cunny onto his cock, I took him in fully, asking, "Like this?"

James groaned in pleasure, responding, "Yes, I mean, no, I mean, well, she had removed her shift..."

As I bounced slowly on top of James, I reached down and pulled my shift over my head, to ride him naked. "Like this?"

James was bucking up into me wildly. "Yes, yes! And she was bending over him, so he could suckle her boobies, and she had her hands between them!"

Smiling to him, I bent down, lowering my nipples to his questing lips, and I began fingering my quim and nubbin. James had barely begun to suckle me when he gave out the most ferocious of groans and I felt his cock expand inside me, twitching and pulsating as his seed began rushing from his sac, through the shaft, and into my quim. I spent wildly as he filled me with his hot and sticky seed, and collapsed atop him to fall asleep in his arms.

Chapter 5 - Thanksgiving and a Christmas Trip

The household rapidly reverted to normal pursuits as Mister Singh recovered his strength. He was able to make his way to the downstairs about a week later, though he was still very tired, and his robe (for he still maintained his dress in the Eastern fashion) hung loosely on him. Still, though he was in generally good spirits after such a close call with the Grim Reaper, he seemed preoccupied with some deep thoughts. Even James noticed, and asked his old friend if he could be of some assistance, which Ahkbar repeatedly declined.

Eventually, at luncheon one day, Ahkbar nodded at the question and said, "I think I shall be traveling soon. I have never been to Mecca, you know."

James sat bolt upright and looked at Ahkbar closely. "The Haj? Are you feeling all right, old friend?"

Ahkbar smiled and said, "I am feeling better every day. Still, I should like to make the trip once..." I nodded in understanding. He continued, saying, "For all I know, I shall outlive your grandchildren, but I suspect that the number of the days I have left is fewer than the number that I have spent. It is time."

At this point, Siobhan broke in, looking at us without understanding. "The hodge? What is that? Are you going somewhere?"

We all looked at her with smiles. Siobhan is both a very worldly woman and a very provincial one. She is Boston Irish and Roman Catholic, and knew little of Islam other than what she had picked up being around Mister Singh. I can still recall her confusion when she asked him why he had to pray five times a day, and always facing the East. James' admission that he had had a surveyor draw up a map showing compass directions to Mecca simply was incomprehensible to her.

"No, the Haj.", I said, pronouncing it correctly. I answered her question, being relatively familiar with the Musulman religion. Being English, I had often encountered Musulmen and Arabs near London, and, of course, a considerable number of soldiers traveled there and back, bearing tales of the East. My father was a soldier, and through him I often met travelers and knew of the religion. "Mister Singh is a Musulman, Siobhan, as you know, and one of the tenets of their faith is that every Musulman should make a holy pilgrimage to the city of Mecca, at least once in his life."

"Oh, sort of like visiting Rome or Jerusalem, you mean?", she replied, her eyes widening at the thought.

"Something of the sort.", admitted Ahkbar.

"But what about the wedding? Will you be back in time for the wedding? You're in the wedding you know.", she asked.

At this, Ahkbar and James looked at each other and shrugged. James said, "Well, I should think you would have plenty of time to travel there and back by then, eh?"

"I would imagine so.", agreed Mister Singh. "What, travel West and take a ship from San Francisco, then the Orient, India, and Arabia?" James shrugged in acquiescence and it was my turn to be shocked.

"Excuse me, but is that not the long way around?" The others looked at me, and I continued, "Surely it would be much faster to go through Europe, or even directly to Palestine and then on to Arabia. It must cut your travel in half, if not more!" I began juggling distances in my head and was sure that Mecca was only a third of the way around the world while traveling East. Going West would involve twice the travel, and correspondingly, twice the time.

As far as Siobhan was concerned, we were sending Mister Singh to the far side of the moon with Mister Verne; she had no idea at all where Mecca or Arabia were. To prove my point, I led the others into the library and retrieved the large atlas that James possessed. It occurred to me that during their travels, neither James nor Ahkbar had traveled through Europe. They had spent their entire time in the Orient, India, and the East Indies, and were therefore unfamiliar with the more direct route. Turning to a large map of the world, I traced out two possible paths, the first being a direct steamship from America to Palestine, and the second being a steamship to Europe, followed by a rail journey to Palestine. I was sure that once Mister Singh reached Palestine, he would be able to find his own way overland to Arabia.

The others looked at me curiously as they traced out the routes on their own, agreeing that my method was much shorter. It was then that Ahkbar said, "Alas, once I am past England, I will be lost. While I have many Eastern tongues, I know none of Europe's."

James shrugged and suggested that he wire some European solicitors to provide translation, and it was then that a plan formed full-blown in my mind. Squealing with glee, I said, "Rubbish! I have a much better method! You can get to London fine, correct?"

Ahkbar looked at me skeptically and said, "Well, I suppose..."

"Fine, from London, you travel to Mrs. Pembleton's School. Her students are all taught several European languages. You might recall that I speak French and Latin, and can usually puzzle out Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese." The others nodded in understanding. "Well, I am sure that other students will know these languages as well, as well as German and Russian. Why, a group of us could ride the rails all across the Continent and manage quite nicely, thank you very much.", I said proudly.

I continued on, "Now, from Mrs. Pembleton's, you and your escorts will travel to London and thence to one of the Channel ports. A short ferry ride will have you in France, from which you will take a train to Paris. Now, once you are in Paris, you simply need to take the Orient Express. That will run you through Germany and Hungary to the Black Sea, Varna, I believe, and then continue on to Constantinople by ferry. Once in Constantinople, you will be in a country where you will be able to converse again, and I am sure that you will be able to take a train to Palestine or even Arabia from there!" I traced the path along the map excitedly, and both James and Ahkbar began to look at me curiously, not expecting this sort of detail from me. However, the Orient Express was a brand new luxury coach that was the talk of Europe when I had left, and I was sure of my facts.

"Well, that is all very well and good, but for whatever reason would they want to do such a thing?", asked Ahkbar slowly.

"Why for the adventure of it, of course! Think of the fun they would have, escorting a refined and handsome Indian gentleman around, dining at the finest restaurants and staying in the finest hotels. You would be staying at the finest hotels, wouldn't you?", I asked.

"I am not a penniless beggar!", replied Ahkbar stuffily.

I patted his hand in mollification, and continued on. "Well, of course you're not! That's my point. I shall wire ahead to Mrs. Pembleton and arrange things as needs be. You shall make a certain contribution to the school fund, oh a few hundred pounds should do nicely, and provide suitable lodging and accommodations on your trip. Now would you not prefer traveling with three or four lovely young ladies to ease your way, or would you prefer a long and tiring sea trip on your own?"

"Three or four...? Are you serious?", stammered Ahkbar, staring at me incredulously.

"Oh, certainly! I am sure that they will assist you in your every need."

With this I gave a sly wink to James, who started. "By Jove, I must meet this Mrs. Pembleton! Make sure she gets invited to the wedding, even if I have to pay her steamship ticket myself!"

So our plans were finalized. Ahkbar would take his leave after Thanksgiving, in Mid-December, travelling with Siobhan to Boston, from where he would take a liner to England. Siobhan assured us that she would act as escort to Mister Singh in Boston. When they left, James and I would travel to New York and spend the holidays there. Siobhan would spend Christmas with her family in Boston, and the three of us would return to Saratoga after the New Year. Ahkbar would return sometime in the Spring, and was asked by James to be on the lookout for horses. His entire trip would not be taken up with his religious obligations, and it was well known that Arabian horses were particularly fleet of foot.

Ahkbar rested and recuperated through the balance of November, even through the local holiday known as Thanksgiving. This is a peculiar American holiday, celebrating a feast held by the Massachusetts Indians for the Pilgrims. James and Siobhan described it to me and I was rather confused; it seemed to me that the Indians, considering their current plight, had been most foolhardy!