The Memoirs Of A Young Victorian Lady

The last thing I clearly remember was staring at James as he took a sideways shooter's stance and brought up the gun, a twin-barreled Derringer pistol. Standing calmly, he sighted along the barrel and I could see his finger tighten on the trigger. Then things went black.

Chapter 9 - The Next Day

I awoke the next day an hour or so before noon, with a great deal of confusion and a small but bothersome headache. I was in a bed and felt a great weight on my arm. Opening my eyes, I found myself back in my room, in my own bed, and the weight on my arm proved to be James' hand clasping mine. He was sitting in an armchair, still dressed from the previous night but without his coat or hat or ascot and with his shirt mostly undone, and amazingly, was unshaven! I attempted to retrieve my hand and asked, "What happened?"

James bolted upright and stared at me as I struggled awake. "You're awake!", he exclaimed, then jumped up and ran from the room. "She's awake! She's awake!", he announced, then ran back in.

By then I had struggled upright in my bed, and pulled the covers up over my bosom, most immodestly showing through the very thin silk night shirt I wore. "What in the world is going on?", I demanded. "What happened?"

My Uncle was followed into my chamber by a woman of about thirty years, dressed as one of the Waldorf Astoria's maids, and an older man, in his fifties, I should hazard, dressed in a mussed suit. The man sat down by my side on the bed and began to peer and poke at me. I waved him off and demanded again, "What is going on?"

"How do you feel, Caroline? Are you all right?", pleaded James. He had the most dreadful look of worry on his face.

"I shall be just fine. What happened last night? The last I remember you were fighting that gang of thieves."

"Then you do remember what happened?", asked the other man. He turned to my Uncle and said, "That's a very good sign, an excellent sign."

"Who are you?", I asked.

"Um, yes, we haven't been introduced, have we? I'm Doctor Latimer, the house physician. Your Uncle summoned me last night and we have been up all night waiting for you to wake. How do you feel?"

"Fine, I suppose. I have a headache. How should I feel?", I asked.

He smiled. "Probably like you have a headache. Here, let me take a look at you." This time I allowed him to look at my eyes and feel around my head.

I felt a sharp pain as he touched the back of my skull and gasped, "Owww! James, did you shoot me last night?"

James looked stricken, but before he could protest his innocence, Doctor Latimer chuckled and said, "If that had been the case it would be Saint Peter checking you over, not me. I think you fainted, young lady, and you hit your head, probably on the sidewalk." I reached up and gingerly touched where I hurt. I could feel a small lump that smarted, but it was not bandaged and I could feel no cut, nor dried blood. "So you remember what happened, then?"

"Yes, sir, perfectly."

"Fine." The Doctor stood and faced my Uncle and the maid. "Your niece is fine, sir, as I predicted. For now, I think a hot bath, some broth and bread, and rest will do wonders. If anything comes up, simply call for me, the front desk has my number." He smiled and took his leave of me, then was gone. The maid called down for the broth and bread, then came back to the bedside where James had rejoined me, taking my hand.

He was in the most profound state, tears rolling down his darkly tanned face and wetting his mustaches as he knelt by my bedside, wringing my hands piteously. "I am so sorry, I am so sorry!", he kept repeating. "How could I let this happen!"

I embraced him most fondly. "You saved my life, James. How can I repay you?"

The maid intervened, saying, "The Doctor suggests a bath. Unless you plan on helping, you had better let go." Startled, my Uncle dropped my hand as if it were a hot potato and stepped back. The maid laughed and helped me to my feet. I was a touch wobbly at first, but rapidly regained my composure.

I turned to face James, dressed only in my shift. It was very short, barely reaching my thighs, very low cut, and quite sheer. I had planned on wearing it later in the week, after the ball, by which time James would have begun treating me like a lover and not a niece. "James, were you the one who dressed me in this?", I asked coyly.

James gave a loud 'Harumph' and whirled away from me, his face darkening with mortification.

The maid giggled and led me to the bath. "Actually, I was the one to change you. Your Uncle simply grabbed the first thing out of the drawer and thrust it at me, then ran from the room. It's gorgeous! I wish I could have something like that.", she commented dreamily. She was very pretty, small and trim.

"Well, I had been intending it to be a surprise, but I am afraid the surprise is ruined now. Would you like it? Or should I ask, would your husband like it?"

She stared at me with greedy fascination. "No! I couldn't!"

I whisked it off and handed it to her. "Here, hold it up to the mirror. Trust me. This is the only time I have ever worn it. I have something else which will be a surprise." She held it against herself as she looked in the glass. "Your husband will love it, and if not, your lover will."

She laughed at this and placed it aside. "Hah! My husband. I am not that depraved, at least not yet." She thrust a robe at me. "Now, put this on before you catch your death of cold." She bent to the tub and began to draw the water.

"What's your name?", I asked.

"Mary, Mary Johnson."

"Well, Mary, Mary Johnson, I am Caroline Pendrake. Pleased to make your acquaintance." I held out my hand and Mary shook it firmly.

"Pleased to meet you, too, Miss Pendrake. I guess you had some excitement last night.", she said. I described the events of the previous evening as the tub filled, and then settled into it. We continued talking as I bathed and completed my toilet. At one point she commented upon my 'surprise' and the fact that it was my Uncle that I was surprising. She nodded in understanding as I explained that James was not my real Uncle but more of a third or fourth cousin. "And now you are looking to tighten the bonds of family to something a bit closer?" I could but grin and nod.

"Have you been here all night?", I asked.

"Yes, ever since your Uncle brought you back. I was on duty and helped the Doctor take care of you, then he insisted that we both stay until you awoke."

"All night? What will your husband say when you show up so late?"

"Not to worry. Your Uncle was most generous, and truth be told, we catnapped in the parlor most of the night. David is a bellman here, and when I explained it to him, he said I would be a fool if I didn't."

"Good for you. Now you have something to reward him for his patience." I indicated the night shirt on the vanity.

Mary grinned wickedly. "I think so. You realize that since I am almost half a head taller than you, the hem on that thing won't cover everything that it covers on you."

"So?", I asked. "What you do is send him to bed first, then change into it. Do you have some slippers with a tall heel?" At her nod, I continued, "Good! Put them on as well, and leave the light on. That had been my plan, but I see no reason it won't work for you! You won't get any sleep for a second night, but I doubt you will complain in the morning!", I exclaimed.

By the time my ablutions were finished and Mary had obtained another night shirt and robe for me, a waiter had wheeled in a small cart with some broth and milk and an assortment of rolls and pastries. Mary handed me a newspaper and showed me an article describing the events of the preceding night. I read it with considerable interest as I dined. James sat with me quietly, and I had to reassure him several times that I held him to no blame in any way.

Finally, I began to feel tired, and Mary helped me back to bed, then took the cart and cleaned the table. She retrieved her new present surreptitiously and took her leave, to almost run over a gentleman who had just begun to knock upon our door. She let him in, and I saw that he was a trim and dapper young man in a pinstriped brown suit and bowler hat. "Hello. I am Detective Barnstop of the New York City Police. I am investigating the incident of last night and was hoping to speak to you. You are Miss Pendrake, aren't you?" He stopped and glanced at a small notebook as he said this. "I was in the neighborhood, so to speak, and I thought that you might be awake by now."

"I was the last time I noticed, sir.", I quipped. I pulled the covers up and sat up in the bed to face him. James settled some pillows behind me. "How can I help?", I asked. James pulled up a chair for the man to sit in, then sat down in the armchair he had slept in last night and held my hand.

"Well, I should care to hear your recounting of the events. I simply want my investigation to be thorough, you understand." He espied the newspaper on the bed and sighed. "Oh dear, I had been hoping that you hadn't read any newspapers, they tend to muddy the waters dreadfully."

"I should say so, sir, considering the story published was the most utter rubbish! I have never read such tripe in my life!"

Detective Barnstop was taken aback at this statement. "Really, Miss, then you remember what occurred? I was under the impression that you had fainted dead away. What can you tell me of the events?"

I misunderstood and picked up the newspaper. "Well, for instance, in here they state that the four men surrounded us and boxed us in, when they never did such. They were rather in a semicircle in front of us." Using my hands I described an arc, then placed the miscreants at the appropriate positions. "To our left was a fairly stout person, dark and swarthy, and several inches taller than I, next a much taller and slimmer man, but younger, then two similarly built men who looked much alike, as if they were brothers. All of the men were in their early twenties, I should say, and wore rather common clothing."

The detective was writing furiously in his pad as I spoke. Continuing, I said, "And then, in this paragraph, it states, '...the scurrilous leader of the nefarious foursome taunted Mister MacAllister of the unwholesome liberties they planned for the maiden and dared him to stop them, flaunting their weapons. Mister MacAllister responded, promising to thrash them all soundly if so much as a hair on his intimate companion's head was harmed, at which point the ruffians challenged him to do so. Mister MacAllister then proceeded to do so in a most deadly manner!' Now really, sir, this is the sheerest folly. They never taunted us once, but simply demanded our money and jewelry. Uncle James never said a word, certainly not to do something so rash as challenge the four of them. Worst of all, I should dearly like to know how I went from a maiden in one clause to an intimate companion in the next! That insults me by proclaiming me a harlot, and insults my Uncle by implying that he is the type of gentleman who would have such!" I ran out of steam at that point, which was probably for the best, as it allowed the detective a chance to catch up on his scribbling. "Really, sir, how can a newspaper get away with such a thing? The Times would never allow this, I can tell you!"


Detective Barnstop looked up at this in curiosity. "The New York Times? They're no better than that.", he commented, pointing at the paper.

"No, the London Times, of course. New York has a newspaper called the Times?", I asked.

At this remark, my Uncle leaned his head back and let out with a loud laugh. "Welcome to America, my dear, welcome to America! I fear that Mister Hearst and Mister Pulitzer care more about their adjectives and adverbs than they do about their nouns and verbs."

"Still, sir, this is intolerable. We should do something!"

He patted my hand and smiled. "Never get in a spitting contest with a man who buys ink by the barrel."

I looked back at the scribbling policeman and asked, "So is it true that Uncle James killed two of the men and wounded the other two mortally?"

He glanced at me and smiled. "Pretty much so. The first thing a reporter learns to do is count bodies. Can you recount what happened next? Or is it too troubling to do so?"

"Not as troubling as it was to experience, sir. Well, after the one man had pulled me to him and held an arm in capture around me, he ordered my Uncle to hand over his wallet and possessions. He manhandled me quite roughly, and I think Uncle James must have felt my life was in danger, for he attacked them at this.", I said.

"He told you this?"

"Not at all, but what other conclusion can there be? You must ask him that. For myself, I felt assured that after robbing us they planned on carrying me off."

The detective glanced at my Uncle, who sat there stonily listening to my conclusions. "So, what happened next?", he asked me.

"Well, as I recall, Uncle James pulled a small handgun, a Derringer pistol, from his waistcoat and fired it at the man to his left, my right, who promptly fell to the ground clutching at his stomach. What became of him, was he one of the dead?"

"Well, Miss, do you really want to hear this? The consequences were quite gruesome."

"And I repeat, sir, the telling can not be as gruesome as it was last night. I can bear it."

"Well, the doctors don't give him good odds on surviving the night, and even if he does, he will be spending the rest of his life in a wheelchair. The bullet pierced his spine.", said the detective.

"Good! At the same time, my Uncle pointed his cane at one of the men on his right and the tip flew into his face. He then stabbed the man closest to him on that side, and he, too, fell to the ground. His condition, sir?", I asked.

"Somewhat better. He should live to stand trial. Next?"

"Next, Uncle James swung his sword or cane or what have you, at the next man on his right and caught him in the throat. He must have been one of the dead men, which does not surprise me, since his blood was spurting all over."

"Quite so, he bled out shortly after the constables showed up. The last man?"

"Here I cannot help you, sir. The last I remember was Uncle James raising his pistol and aiming it past my shoulder at the face of the man holding me. Once I saw that barrel pointing in my direction I fainted. I don't know what happened next, and woke up here this morning. What did happen next? I gather he was the other man who died.", I said.

Detective Barnstop nodded. "Mister MacAllister put a bullet through his right eye. He was dead before he hit the ground." Looking at my relation, he commented, "Commendable shooting, sir, better than I could manage, I am sure." He turned back to me. "You really have an eye for detail, young lady. You should have been the detective, I think." He finished with his voluminous notes.

Uncle James laughed and said, "I have told her that more than once myself, sir. What will become of the last two?"

"Oh, prison, I am sure. They and the dead men are all well known down at the local precinct house. If they live to stand trial, that is, there is a certain doubt as to that. Remind me not to make you my enemy, Mister MacAllister, you are positively lethal!", replied the policeman.

"And my pistol and cane? They were taken from me by the constables last night."

In reply, the detective stood and went out to the sitting room, returning with both, which he handed over to James. "As I said, I am simply trying to clear up my investigation. All the evidence and your niece's statement corroborate your statement, so I think this is all concluded and will take your leave. However, I should make a final comment. I would have expected a man of your means to have some protection other than a cane and a Derringer."

James snorted and said, "What, bodyguards? I manage quite well on my own back in Saratoga, sir, and see no reason to alter my habits on my infrequent trips to the city."

Detective Barnstop shrugged his shoulders and stood up. "As you wish. However, back home you may well be able to play the part of country squire and carry it off, but this is not the provinces." He shook our hands and departed.

James escorted him out, then returned, tossing his weapons atop the bureau before settling back down in his chair next to me. "You should rest now, child." He settled back and clasped my hand in his.

"On one condition, James. I am fatigued, but you are even more so, and you could not have slept well last night, not sitting up in that chair. If I am to sleep, you must crawl onto the bed next to me." I laughed as he goggled his eyes at me, sputtering indignation at the thought. "I said onto the bed, not into it!" I scooted down under the covers and patted the bed at my side. "I shall be under the covers and you shall be over them, a degree of separation you can not argue with. And you will be able to hold my hand as I sleep, as it would be most soothing to my nerves if you did so. Please?", I begged.

Appeased, James granted my request and came around to the empty side of the large bed and lay down atop the coverlet. Then he gently took my hand in his and raised it to his lips. I fell asleep quickly.

I awoke as evening approached, to find that my headache had mostly dissipated and that I had wrapped myself around my sleeping relation in an almost married fashion. My head was nestled on his manly breast and an arm had been thrown across his chest. Under the covers, I had thrown a leg across both of his. In response, both his arms embraced me and held me against him. He was snoring lightly, with a delightful baritone purr, as if he were some great and contented cat! The feeling of waking up in his arms was so delicious I snuggled into his chest and luxuriated in the feeling.

As I burrowed into his warmth, his snoring ceased and I looked up at his face, to see him looking down at my position with alarm and confusion. "In all my life, I have never felt so safe or secure, James, not even when I was a little girl and would snuggle with my father." Pushing up, I kissed him lightly on the lips, then hugged myself against him. Sitting up slightly, I said, "I do have one complaint, however. I could do this for hours, but you make for a rather hard pillow. We shall have to plump you up some." I pressed a fingertip into the rock hard muscles of his chest. "Papa was considerably better cushioned."

I rested my chin on his breast and looked up into his eyes. I could see a wild and frenzied look in them, as if he was wrestling some demon from deep inside his soul. I so wished for that demon to escape, to thrust me back onto the bed and tear my robe and shift from my pliant form, and to ravish me repeatedly through the night and into the ensuing dawn! It was not to be however, and I witnessed my Uncle's nobility and determination win, though at what cost I could not guess. James has a will of iron! Pushing away gently, he stood and excused himself, saying we should prepare for dinner. He went to his own room and closed the door behind him.

I was briefly fearful that my single chance of obtaining his heart had passed, but I told myself that the plans that I had concocted with Siobhan had not been compromised. While an early victory would have been wonderful, our planned culmination was not for another evening in any event. I would stick to the scheme.

We had our supper in the main dining room of the establishment, as opposed to going back out on the town. I do not know whether Detective Barnstop's parting words had struck true to James or not, but he seemed perfectly satisfied to stay within the walls of the hotel, and our meal was first rate in any case. I was delighted to find that James was even more protective and possessive of me than even before, and he escorted me with an arm around my waist, and dined seated next to me and not across from me. We retired early, although unfortunately in separation.