The Memoirs Of A Young Victorian Lady

Ahkbar gave the pair of them an amused glance and responded in his Indian dialect, at which my Uncle gave him the most murderous look, to which Ahkbar took no notice at all. Myself, I think that once he had steeled up his nerves to ask me, he was at a loss for when I accepted, and was beset by cowardice!

However, he was hoisted on his own petard, whatever a petard might be, and graciously allowed Siobhan her plans. Upon my asking of his plans, he replied with almost the exact suggestion that Mrs. Rourke had made the night before in her bed, "...the theater, restaurants, the opera, a ball or two." Siobhan immediately offered her services in helping me select the wardrobe I would pack.

That night, after dinner, Siobhan came to my room and began to select the dresses I should take. I immediately noticed that they were the garments most likely to incite a man's passions, being of the most extreme cut through the bodice. When I mentioned this with some alarm, she set them aside and sat down next to me on the bed. "Precisely so, Caroline, is that not the idea? Do you not want Mister MacAllister to so notice you?", she asked.

This indeed was the question, and my answer was not yet fully formed as I stammered a response. "But, he is my Uncle?"

"Not precisely, no, he is little more than a third cousin, and it is not terribly uncommon to wed a second cousin. No, I should say he is a most eligible possibility for you. Can you not admit as much?"

"Well, if you put it that way, then perhaps so, but really, Siobhan, the man has never shown the slightest indication of interest in me!", I protested. I could never admit that he had, though only to her, so perforce I must keep a certain pretence up.

"Then open your eyes child! The man is positively half-blind with jealousy for you. Haven't you seen the way he looked at you this evening? And remember how he acted when that charming Mister Kendrickson was paying court to you during his visit? Not that stuffy Robert, but his brother Harry."

"Harry Kendrickson! You must be mad, Siobhan!" I had noticed no such thing.

"Well, I will admit that he was charming to every lady in the house, and that more than a few of the maidservants would have been perfectly willing to make his bed, if you catch my meaning, but it's true! Your Uncle was rather put out by it, as well, don't you recall his comments about Harry Kendrickson being a scalawag?", she replied.

In truth, I had failed to put any notice to it at the time, but on thinking back, I began to see a definite pattern to Uncle James' actions whenever he was hosting younger, unmarried gentlemen in his home. He had taken considerable pains to ensure that I was never left alone in their company, and would often match them in those remarks most pleasing to my vanity. Perhaps he really did care as he intimated the other night, if ever so obliquely! "Do you really think so?", I asked. "He has never given any indication so."

"How could he! He has found himself in the position of your guardian when his natural instincts propel him towards the position of your suitor. His natural decency and nobility prohibit him from courting you as he so richly desires. If you have any feelings towards him at all, you must allow him to learn of them, otherwise he shall allow another to take that which he desires most, and he will nobly walk you down the aisle into another's arms, all the while cursing the Fates. So the question for you is what are your feelings towards him?"

I began to cry and collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillows. Siobhan stretched out beside me to comfort me, hugging my shoulders and pulling my face to her bosom. After several minutes, I tearfully looked up. "What should I do?", I begged of her.

"So you do have feelings towards him?", she asked gently. Mute, I could only nod in the affirmative. "Then you must take the initiative. There is something in his past which acts to prevent his telling you of his affections, and I have not been able to discern it. Believe me when I say that he knows full well that he is neither too old nor too close a relation for you, and that he realizes that you are no longer a child but a beautiful young woman desirous of love. For whatever reason, he is unable to act on this, so you must act for him."

"But how? All I have managed to do so far is make him jealous of the others."

"You see, you admit to playing the coquette with the man. Now you must continue to do so, but more openly. Once in New York, as he squires you around the town, put forth your total attentions to him. Allow your love for him to show through. Be with him as much as possible, and put off toying with others' affections, toy only with his. And do not toy with them, either, but express to him that you consider him what he truly is, a noble gentleman who fascinates and excites you."

"That will not be enough!", I protested. "I could do that here, as well, and he would not change his nature on that regard."

"Precisely, that is why it is so important you do so when he is away from his home. Otherwise he will find some reason to excuse himself. As it is, he most probably will be spending some time away, if simply to see other businessmen and investors, but at worst, you will be on neutral grounds. And there is one other thing...", she paused at this point.

"What?", I demanded.

"I blush to say it, but your Uncle has strong physical needs. We have never really talked about this, but I would strongly suspect that your Uncle James is the type of suitor who will not delay his use of the marriage bed until after the marriage." My eyes widened at the scandalous thought. "Quite so, the meaning comes to you.", she said. "This is something you must answer for yourself. I will admit that since Michael's death I have often wandered afar from any thoughts of morality and chastity, but I cannot tell you what to do. Can you consider the possibility of enjoying wedded bliss though you be not yet wedded?"

I knew my answer in a heartbeat. "Yes, Madame, I could. I have known enough married couples who have luxuriated in the delights of the bedchamber to know that it holds no fears for me. I anticipate no terrors, only joys. As for the rest, well, know that I would walk naked down Main Street if I knew that his arms would be open to receive me at the end."

Siobhan laughed at the image. "I don't think that will quite be necessary. Still, it would not at all surprise me if it would require some active assistance upon your part. Perhaps something more than an embrace, as well, by kissing him not as an Uncle, but as a lover, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closely. Another thing I should warn you of, one that I discovered to my infinite delight with Michael. Do not be surprised if when dancing or embracing, when you are pressed against him, to discover that his manhood is energized, rampant and pressing against you. This is the natural reaction of a man when embraced by a woman, the more natural when he is a vigorous and hearty man like your Uncle and you are pressed against him, so young and beautiful. Do not be alarmed, but be joyous, and do not allow him to nobly pull back, but press against him with a promise of things to come. Believe me when I say that this is not an insult, but the most endearing compliment a man can give a woman, that her presence excites him in the most fundamental fashion!"

"Oh, that I should be pressed against him so even as we speak!", I exclaimed. "I am sure that he would be a much finer cure for my hysteria than Doctor Allsworth!"

"I am sure of it. Now, let us prepare you for bed. We can prepare for your trip over the next two weeks. We will need to go shopping for your trip. For now, I would suggest that we both get undressed and cure each other of our hysteria!"

The next several days were spent in a veritable whirlwind of preparation. Siobhan felt that one or two of my dresses needed modification, and I was perforce required to obtain other supplies as well. In particular, we spent several days in town at the ladies' shops. For one thing, while I had several lovely night shirts, Siobhan recommended that I obtain two or three more, in the most scandalous styles and fabrics, to wear when saying goodnight to my Uncle. With any luck, he would not take his leave of me until the next morning! In addition, I had gotten the name of a good seamstress from Nancy, one who was familiar with and comfortable in making the most sinful and elaborate gowns, and commissioned her to make me a dress to my own design, one which I planned to wear on a particular evening.

Siobhan warned me against my most common failing, that of a general who makes an all-out attack at the first instance, leaving no reserves, only to find that a more deliberate approach would have been more successful. It has ever been my tendency to wager all on the first thrown of the dice, probably due my nomadic upbringing and the loss of my parents. In a person of a pessimistic humor, this would undoubtedly lead to the husbanding of resources for the future, but I am generally of an optimistic outlook, and rarely have I been disappointed at the results of my nature. Siobhan counseled me against this, saying that this was too important a venture to leave unplanned. I should work up to the proper moment, which I should plan out in advance. I selected the moment to be the evening of a charity ball to be held at the Waldorf Astoria to be the culmination of the strategy. This was to be the midpoint of our stay, and since the ball was to be held in the same hotel we were staying at, should simplify the arrangements.

On the day that we departed Saratoga, Siobhan accompanied us by train as far as Albany, from which she would take a different line through the Berkshires and across Massachusetts (wherever do they come up with these names!) to Boston. Uncle James and I stayed with the train following the Hudson River downstream to New York City. The most amusing event of the entire trip occurred immediately after the train left the Albany station. My Uncle asked, "Caroline, would you do me the smallest courtesy during our trip together?"

"Of, course, Uncle James, what is it?", I asked.

"Well, you see, that is it, so to speak. Could you please simply address me as James? Uncle makes me sound so, well, so much like an Uncle!"

My eyes widened as I considered my relation's vanity. He gave me a most discomfited look as a grin suffused my countenance. "Of course, Uncle James!", I replied, and then hearing myself speak the very words he wished me not to, I broke down in laughter! He gave me several 'Harumphs!', each of which only served to make me laugh louder, longer, and deeper. Finally I was forced to practically hold on to his arm to keep him from standing and moving to the lounge car, a location I was forbidden to follow. For the next several hours, until we reached the station, I was on the verge of breaking into uncontrollable laughter whenever we talked or even when I glanced at him. My Uncle is the most marvelous man, but never let it be said that he is any more than a man, with all their peculiar quirks and eccentricities!

From the terminal we took a carriage to the Waldorf Astoria, and were settled into a very expansive suite well near the top of the structure. It consisted of two large bedrooms, two baths, a sitting room or parlor, and a small dining salon, with attached servant's quarters which remained empty. I had earlier mentioned to Uncle James, or James as he now preferred, that I would be needing the assistance of a maid before the ball. He had considered this a task similar to the gilding of a lily, believing me to be too beautiful to need anything more than a brush for my hair, for which I thanked him, but I had needs for which he was not yet informed, so I insisted. He simply shrugged his shoulders and agreed to see what could be done. The concierge said this would prove difficult, since every lady attending the ball would be making the same request, at which James obliquely commented that since this was non-negotiable, that perhaps the Ritz would be a better choice. The concierge simply smiled and said that it was simply difficult, not impossible, and that he would make whatever arrangements were necessary.

The first several days were simply a tempest of activity. Typically, I would sleep late while James would conduct his affairs at an early hour, then he would return to our apartments. Then, after a leisurely luncheon, we would set forth and he would tour the city with me. New York is most certainly one of the great metropolises of the world, in a rank with London or Paris or Berlin, yet with an uncommon vigor and youth that those other cities had lost. It seemed as if a building would be put up only to be torn right back down again, to make way for an even grander edifice! I marveled at the size and vitality of the city. Often we would take a hansom cab, and once we even commuted by means of a horseless carriage which one of his acquaintances had recently procured and was extremely proud of. I had never before seen one, but there were any number of them in this city, and while James seemed curious about it, I found it monstrously loud and smelly.

James commented that the man who could produce such a vehicle and make it both reliable and inexpensive enough for more people to purchase would truly have the world by the tail. I simply commented that I would believe it when I saw it, at which he laughed and said that the investment would quite probably be quite profitable. Ultimately, he did just that, with a rather common fellow named Ford, from some dismal region West of here, and he reaped fabulous rewards from it, but that gets well ahead of this story.

In the evening, we would go to the theater or to a fine restaurant, or even both, although I did turn down the offer of the opera. Upon his offer, I had stated that if he wished to do so, I would be willing, but it turned out that he was no more interested than I, and had simply been polite in case I was interested. We both considered that watching overweight people bounce around a stage while singing in a language neither of us understood was pushing the bounds of high culture more than a touch beyond the limits of sanity.

Siobhan's advice to build slowly to a satisfactory conclusion, that being James and I entwined in each other's arms, was proving to be eminently sound. Each evening I would select a dress which would show a hint more of my shoulders and bosom, and be slightly tighter through the waistline. Then, upon retiring, I would change into a night shift which became more provocative yet, then would visit James in the sitting room to embrace and kiss his cheek good-night. My shifts became shorter, so that after several days they were at knee level and moving higher, while the fabric went from a heavy cotton to a light linen and then finally to a silk, with a loose bodice and thin shoulder straps and no sleeves!

Along with my attire, as time progressed I began to take more familiar intimacies with his person. At first, when walking together, I would simply take his forearm in a very correct and proper manner. Then I entwined my arm with his, in the manner of a lover, followed by moving closer and hugging his arm to me, so that on occasion my bosom would brush against him. At first he would start and move away, but I would immediately apologize and then resume my previous actions. In very short order he stopped protesting and began to take pleasure from my familiarity. Likewise, when I embraced him, I began to press more closely to his manly chest, pushing my boobies into him, and my kisses to his cheeks became longer, and on one occasion even, when he turned his head suddenly , he was surprised to find my lips full upon his. He was rather shocked at this, but he had a gleam in his eyes afterwards which I had not noticed prior.

The most prominent display of his less than paternal interest in me came through a silent display. On several occasions I witnessed him attempting to shield my eyes from the prominence of his loins, which my presence and mode of dress had inflamed to the point where his tumescence was visible. As my friend, now in Boston, had said, this was a very pretty compliment, indeed!

Two days prior to the ball, the most disagreeable event occurred. James and I had taken in a showing of Romeo and Juliet in the theater district, and afterwards had decided on a late supper. Earlier in the day, I had noticed that almost every culture and land had a restaurant representing it and had asked if any served Indian cuisine like he was familiar with. I knew he enjoyed it, but his household cooks rarely would serve it, not knowing the means to do so. We took a hansom cab to a restaurant that he knew of.

In some ways it was quite amusing. When we got there, the proprietor, a small man a few years older than James was about to close shop for the evening, and told my Uncle this in his halting English. James responded fluently in the owner's native tongue, who promptly ushered us inside as if we had been granted the keys to his establishment! We were settled at a low table, on cushions and without our shoes, and then were served such a wide array of dishes that I could barely keep track. I do remember a curry and a satay, but beyond that I simply remember that the food was delicious and very spicy. Meanwhile, the owner would bring out each course and converse with James in his peculiar dialect, and in the course of the evening brought forth his plump and round-faced wife, his three sons who worked in the kitchen, and even his youngest daughter, a lively child with the largest eyes! I could only gather that hearing someone speak his native language so impressed the little man that he was happy to stay late.

At the end, we discovered that it was so late that few cabs, if any, were still in the streets. Still, it was a pleasant night, and the walk would do us good, so we set out upon the path back to the Waldorf Astoria. In hindsight, I can only say that we must have stood out as arclights, me in my extravagantly low-cut bodice and tight corset, and James in his evening finery, top hat, and walking stick.

As we began to near a more lighted section close to the hotel, four ruffians came out of an alleyway and blocked our path. James stopped suddenly and held to my arm, but since I was in mid-stride, I found myself a step ahead of him, which one of the ruffians compounded by grabbing my other arm and pulling me to him. I was torn from my Uncle's grasp and turned to face him, my back to my assailant, who threw an arm around my neck and pulled me against his chest. He was a tall man and thin, and his hand found itself cupping my bosom. "Your money and your jewelry, mister, and we don't hurt the girl!", he exclaimed, then pawed my breasts to show the alternative. "Use your left hand and move slow like." With his free hand he waved a large knife at my Uncle.

My heart was racing faster than at any other time in my life as I struggled helplessly in the brute's grasp. I had never before felt such fear, even when I had learned of my parent's demise, and I was terrified that the four men would kill James and then have their way with me. Since then, I have learned that my experience was a common one, but it seemed as if the world was moving much more slowly, although the more correct interpretation was that I was sensing things at a faster pace. I could feel each heartbeat and hear the blood coursing through my veins. I saw my Uncle reach with his left hand inside his coat into his vest pocket.

Astonished, I saw him pull out, not his watch, but a small handgun of some sort. At the same time, his walking stick came up and exploded in the face of the man nearest him on his right. Then there was a small "POP!" and the man to his left fell to the ground. I could see now that his cane was actually a disguised sword, and that a spring action had forced the casing off and into the face of one of the bandits. James stabbed this man in the belly with it, then withdrew and swung it across the throat of the man next farther, and a great gout of blood spewed forth to spray across me and the man holding me, the lone untouched assailant. This man must have been as astounded as I.