The Memoirs Of A Young Victorian Lady

There were many comedic and ribald aspects of our conversations. I shall never forget the night at dinner when, as we sat side by side, we discussed the most intimate aspects of his wants and desires over the dinner table, to the utter oblivion of all the rest. She implied that she thought he preferred young boys, since he made but little use of her except for her mouth and arse, although he made frequent use of those. In this she was not bothered, since his stature was similar to that of a young boy. When I asked how she kept him satisfied so happily, she smiled down the table at him, then replied quietly, "Cest tres gran, cest tres bien!" 'You're so big, you're so good!' I burst out in laughter, as did she, and it was only after several minutes that we were able to get the tears to stop and get our breathing under control. I am sure the others thought we were suitable for a stay in Bedlam.

The next afternoon, I took a stroll through the secret corridors after Mister Rutherspoon and Angelique retired saying he felt a touch winded and Angelique looked somewhat peaked herself. Angelique's critique of her patron was most correct, the man naked was not a sight to be savored. Their retirement consisted of Angelique undressing and kneeling with her face to his loins. Then after she had swallowed his first spendings, she revived the very small soldier and climbed atop it, to allow it to march into her nether regions. As she bounced atop him, although I could not hear what she was saying, certainly it appeared as if she was mouthing, "You're so big, you're so good!"

Harry Kendrickson proved a most fascinating gentleman, very gallant and courteous and handsome, and with the cutest set of dimples. I confessed to him that I could not understand how he and his brother could be so different, and he explained that, in truth, they were only half-brothers. Robert's mother had died in his childbirth, but their father had remarried within the year, so he never really knew another mother than Harry's. Robert took after his mother's family and Harry took after his mother's family, with neither resembling their late father at all. Still he considered it a good and workable relationship. For all his brother's difficulties with dealing with people, he dealt with ledgers exceedingly well, and Harry was most suited to deal with all the other aspects of their business.

I found him quite charming, and did not protest when he began to spend any spare time away from the stables and racetrack with me. I am not sure though of my true motives at the time, since I do remember how I was delighted at the look I would see in my Uncle's eyes when he saw us together. He seemed positively jealous!

It came to a head one night before dinner, when Harry, Uncle James, and the Bainbridges were standing downstairs in the parlor sipping sherry while waiting for the rest of our party to show. I had just made some sort of witty remark at the expense of Harry, whereupon he laughed, then took my hand, bowed, and kissed it, lingering over my fingers a trace too long, perhaps.

"Caroline, I must warn you about this man.", remarked Uncle James, "He is no gentleman, but a scalawag!"

The Bainbridges and I gasped at the intemperance of this remark, but Harry simply reared his head back and roared with laughter. "I take exception to that sir! I see no reason why a scalawag can not be a gentleman as well." The rest of us breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Well, sir, I have been both, but never at the same time.", said my Uncle, laughing.

"Indeed, I knew it, Mister MacAllister, one scalawag will always know another.", replied Harry. Then he turned to me and asked, "But the true question should be for Miss Caroline. Do you prefer a gentleman or a scalawag, my dear?"

I put an arm through both of theirs and led them into the dining room. "Mayhaps I prefer both! My mother, after all, often called my father a scalawag, and seemed most pleased with her choice."

Over dinner that evening Mister Bainbridge asked of us exactly how close a relation we were, having already determined to his satisfaction that I was not a 'niece', but a niece. I replied that I was not at all sure but that it was through a Scots connection. It was Uncle James who explained.

"Caroline, I know your father was an officer. Did the call to Queen and country run deep in your family?"

"Most assuredly, sir, at least one family member has worn a uniform since the days of Napoleon, although none were ever very high ranking. I don't think anyone was above a major, but they were all the King's or Queen's officers!", I replied. I was curious where he was taking this.

"I was sure of it. And did you ever meet your grandfather?"

"No sir, he fell at Sevastopol." I didn't explain that it was not doing something heroic, but of dysentery.

"I am most sorry of that, child. Well, I should explain that your grandfather had a sister, a lovely lady who wed a young Scots army officer, a fellow named MacAllister. He came to this country during the War of 1812 and proved a scalawag of the first water! He had the most amazing distinction of deserting from both armies, first from the British to join the American, then from the American, as well. He settled in New Jersey and sent for your, oh, great-great-aunt I suppose, to come over, which she did. She was my grandmother."

I waggled my finger at my Uncle. "Somehow, Uncle, I am neither shocked nor surprised." Most of the others snickered and laughed.

"Well then, you will be pleased to know these traits have passed down the generations. My father made a lucrative living for a time during the Civil War as a bounty jumper." I had no idea what he was talking about and it showed on my face. "During the period, the Union Army suffered a manpower shortage and started a draft. Wealthy men would pay a bounty of several hundred dollars to recruits who would enlist in their name. My father would collect his bounty, drink it up, and then would desert some dark night and light out across the country to find another recruiting station and repeat the entire process. He managed to do this a rough dozen times or so, until he met a sergeant smarter than he, who managed to hang on to him. He ended up somewhere in Virginia with the most unique attribute of being the only soldier to be able to get shot in the back by both armies."

"How horrific!", I exclaimed. "And you, sir, what of your sins?", I prompted.

At this he demurred with a smile. "Ah, but there may still be a sheriff out there looking for me, so I shall keep my own council on that, if you please." The others all laughed at this, whereupon I stuck my tongue out at him. He returned the gesture and we both joined in the laughter.

My new and modified dresses stood me in good stead during this period. I will admit to a somewhat vain pride in the paleness and clarity of my skin and was pleased to be able to display such a pleasing portion of my neck, shoulders, and bosom in my new wardrobe. Male visitors seemed most taken by my appearance, often to the consternation of my Uncle, and their wives seemed somewhat hostile, although invariably polite. Very few could match my charms and fewer yet attempted to, and I enjoyed being at the center of attention.

I remember how I witnessed Hope and John Bainbridge arguing on the other side of the looking glass one evening upon their retiring to their room. The vanity was located directly in front of the mirror and I could hear their conversation clearly, if faintly. She was in her night shift and a robe, brushing her hair out, while he stood behind her in his night shirt and robe, attempting to say how he hadn't been staring at my boobies all evening, which she crossly accused him of. Claiming that a different set of boobies interested him, he stepped up behind her and reached down over her shoulders, stuffing his large paws under her robe and shift and kneading them roughly in his hands. She gasped loudly and submitted to his handling, allowing him to push open her robe and shift, exposing her substantial charms to the mirror, and to me. The shift slid down to her waist and her pulled her upright, stripping her as he did so. Then, as she leaned upon the vanity, he undid his own robe and lifted his night shirt to his waist and took her from behind, roughly and savagely, a method she most enjoyed, as she gasped and squealed loudly with her pleasure. Afterwards, she retrieved her clothes and they retired to their bed, and although they had turned the light out, enough moonlight came through the window for me to determine that, under the covers, they had another passage of this nature. I went back to my suite in a most stimulated nature and required the use of my 'Patent Cure' to relieve my hysteria.

Chapter 7 - Overhearing a Conversation

For the rest of August and into early September we frequently had guests to view the stables and see the races. I was fascinated to see my Uncle becoming more and more jealous and protective when the younger gentlemen or the sons of the older gentlemen paid attentions to me. I was somewhat curious as to this, especially as, other than my attire, I never gave him the slightest cause for concern. Inasmuch as he had no apparent slacking in his thirst for the ladies of the household, I failed to see why he should be so worried over my behavior.

Much was explained one evening when I was walking the secret passageways. I was just passing Siobhan's rooms, which I could see were lighted but empty, when I heard a soft tread on the carpet of the hallway. My Uncle! He would undoubtedly see me and learn that I had penetrated his secret. My mind awhirl, I was trapped! Knowing no other course of action, I slipped the latch to Siobhan's room and stepped inside.

"James, is that you?", rang out of the bathroom.

Curses! I had stepped straight from the frying pan into the fire! Not only was Siobhan present, but she was expecting my Uncle any second. Scared beyond breathing, I dove to the floor and under the first piece of furniture I could see, my friend's huge four-poster bed. I rolled underneath it, and had barely rearranged the bedskirts to hide myself when I heard the secret door open. I stiffened and tried to stop breathing, lest I make the slightest sound.

"James? I thought you came in a minute ago.", Siobhan said. Her voice was louder and closer. She had come out of the bathroom. My heart near stopped as I saw the bed move above me as she climbed up on it.

"No, not me. I just came in." Looking to the side I was mortified to see my Uncle kick off his slippers. Next his robe was dropped to the floor, along with his pants and shirt. The bedsprings squeaked above me as he climbed into the bed. Sweet Jesus, but they were going to have relations directly above me!

Indeed they were! I could only guess at their mode of love, but in this first passage, I could surmise from my Uncle's language that Siobhan had taken his organ into her mouth. Siobhan spoke but little, and what little she uttered sounded as if she was speaking with her mouth full, an appropriate simile as it were. Uncle James on the other hand, kept up a steady conversation, exclaiming his pleasure and directing her, "Suck the end...cup my sack...stroke me..." Even as my boobies stiffened and my quim moistened at the thought, my eyes welled up for no reason at all. Somehow I had come to think that we had developed a special relationship, and that I was becoming more to him than a distant cousin. That I had no logical basis for such a belief made but little impression on my emotions, and I had to bite my lip to remain silent.

Eventually my Uncle gave out with a loud groan, and a minute later, Siobhan made her first clear comment of the evening. "Delicious, darling! What say I do that a little more, and then we can holster this pistol somewhere else?" At this my Uncle failed to talk, but shortly thereafter the bed began to shake and move most alarmingly, and I knew that a second passage was underway. My tears flowed freely as the bed bounced above me.

At the end of this second course both Uncle James and Siobhan made satisfied groans and rolled apart. I was most distressed that Uncle James failed to depart but stayed in the bed. I had been praying that after he left, I could wait until Siobhan fell asleep, and creep back to my rooms. Such was not to be the case. They decided on another turn of intercourse, verbal this time.

"James, darling, you seem rather distracted tonight.", said Siobhan. My Uncle made an unintelligible answer, and she pressed him. "No, really, my dear, it is almost as if you were somewhere else, or with someone else. What is the problem?" My word, but what I had just witnessed, if indirectly, certainly seemed to show that wherever my Uncle was he was not at all somewhere else! "That's it, isn't it James! You aren't thinking of me at all, are you. You're still mooning over Caroline! James, you must come to your senses over the girl!"

For the first time, I could clearly hear my Uncle, as he responded to this lunatic suggestion. "Are you daft, Siobhan! I am old enough to be the girl's father. Good Lord, woman, I am her Uncle, so please show some shred of decency."

"Now who is being daft. You are not her Uncle, you are more rightly her third cousin twice removed, a degree of consanguinity further removed than I from my late husband.", she said back.

"Jealous?", he said darkly.

"Don't be tiresome, dear, I am just trying to be helpful. You should know better than that. You and I, we are experienced enough to know the difference between love and lust. What we enjoy is not the former, but rather the latter."

"Then grant me the courtesy to keep my own council regarding my niece."

"So you do love the child! Why in the world have you not told her yet? Some dread secret from your mysterious past?", asked my friend. Was she my friend? I was not at all sure. And what of my own feelings in the matter? Siobhan seemed to be pressing a suit for my Uncle in my stead that I had never espoused, but was it a suit I would disavow? I was terribly confused by the conversation!

"Please be still, Siobhan, you go too far. I am old enough to be her father. She is young, beautiful, and filled with a vitality I lost ages ago. What would ever make you think that she would have any interest in a broken down war-horse like myself? I have seen the way she looks at the young gentlemen who come calling for her. She is simply biding her time before selecting a suitor. Even if I were to feel as you so wrongly think I do, what chance would I have, eh? Now stop being silly?"

"Strong arguments all, to be sure. You most certainly are a decrepit crone, at that, as this most surely demonstrated several minutes ago." I blushed beneath my tears, knowing full well what 'this' must be.

"Well, decrepit may be a touch harsh at that.", laughed Uncle James.

Siobhan laughed back. "Ah, hah! An admission that you aren't all that old after all. Be reasonable, James. You could take any of those overgrown boys over your knees and spank them whenever you felt like it. You may be a war-horse, but that last ride proved that you are not yet ready for the pasture! You've bedded every wench in the household but her. She is a slip of a girl, do you fear her that much? And besides, what makes you think she is looking at those young men in any different fashion than she looks at you? I will grant Caroline's youth, but she is not the innocent you think she is." Well thank you very much, Siobhan! I felt like crawling out from under the bed and slapping her!

"What! You mean...Caroline is...she has..." My Uncle protested vehemently.

"Not at all, she has never been touched by a man. However, James, she is not the six-year-old you originally hired me to care for. She is a young woman, and as you said, beautiful and filled with life, with all the needs and desires of such. I tell you, I have seen the way she looks upon you, and have talked many hours with her, and she holds you in rather high regard, and not simply because you are her Uncle. Take care sir, for if you truly have no feelings for the child, you are in grave danger of hurting her terribly."

"This is sheer nonsense!", replied Uncle James. "Even if I were to say such a thing to her, she would laugh at me till she was blue in the face."

"And that is the reason you deny your feelings? You are afraid she will spurn your advances? What, were you spurned in some previous affair and have sworn off love forever? Strange behavior for a man with your, um, appetites. Perhaps the maharajah's daughter scorned your suit?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about.", said my relation angrily.

"That is it, isn't it!? Something out of your mysterious past in India. Perhaps you and Ahkbar fought over the same wench, or the sultan married the girl, or she died of some dread illness,..."

"Damn, you woman, be silent! You will respect my privacy or be damned!", roared my Uncle. Siobhan fell silent, and I could hear the two of them shift positions above me.

Siobhan was muted in response. "My apologies, sir, I meant no disrespect."

"I am sorry as well, Siobhan. I had no reason to curse you so. Please, leave my past alone, that is all I ask, it is mine and none other's." They were silent for several minutes, then he continued quietly, "Simply for curiosity's sake, what would your advice in such a situation be?"

"Simply get her away from here. Take her on a nice vacation somewhere, New York for example. You must have interests there. Take her to the theater, to restaurants, the opera, a ball or two. Romance her, silly! The fall season will have started by the time your business here is through; surely you must have some idea what to do. Take a suite with adjoining rooms and let nature take its course."

"Well, this is all the most preposterous conversation in any event. Enough talk for tonight. Might I suggest something a little more silent yet a little more active for the present?"

With this was initiated a third passage, a rather prolonged course, following which my Uncle took his leave and departed through the secret door. When I heard Siobhan begin to gently snore, I crept from underneath the bed, and my mind whirling with what I had heard, I slipped out the main door and crept down the hall to my rooms.

Chapter 8 - New York!

I avoided both Siobhan and Uncle James the next day, pleading a headache and eating breakfast and lunch in my room. I was both despondent and elated at the same time, trying to sort my feelings from all I had heard the previous night. I had not slept a wink since then. Could Uncle James truly have feelings for me that were more than those of an Uncle for his Niece? And if so, was Siobhan correct in believing that I had similar feelings for him as well?

I allowed Siobhan to bring me down to supper that evening and attempted to affect my normal demeanor without considerable success. The others remarked that I must still be feeling ill, not knowing that I had overheard them, and, of course, I could not admit a word.

You can imagine my surprise when, after we had been served, Uncle James mentioned rather haltingly, that in two weeks time he would be going to New York for business, and asked if I would care to join him. I gaped so that my jaw must have hit the plate. His feelings for me were real after all! Still confused by my own sentiments, I accepted as best I could.

Then, to my utter consternation, he turned away from me hurriedly to look at Siobhan and Ahkbar Singh. "Of course the invitation applies to you as well."

To my relief, Siobhan replied, "Actually, sir, if you please, I would take the train to Boston at that time. I have not seen my family since this summer, and would like a small vacation myself. If you would allow it, I will leave when you do and be back as you need me. Of course, Mister Singh will need to stay here to handle your local affairs."