Chapter 8: An Evening’s Entertainment

James’ and my passions had been so intense the prior night that we both slept later than our norm, though as usual I awoke before him. By now I knew his habits, and I knew by the depth of his snores that he would not awake if I made my usual attempt, that is to say by suckling his cock with my lips and tongue. Climbing from his bed, I made my way to my bath and began running my bath water.

I had just climbed into the tub, when I heard a faint knock at my door, and acting upon my suspicions, I directed the knocker to enter. As I had suspected, it was Mary, arriving to begin cleaning and helping me to dress. She brought with her a pot of coffee and a cup and saucer, and I thanked her profusely, for I was in desperate need of wakefulness. I invited her to join me in a cup of coffee, which she did, and I lounged back in the soapy bubbles as she sat on the vanity stool, and we talked.

We were in the midst of discussing the events of the prior evening, including our frolics afterwards, when the door to the bath opened. As Mary and I stared wide-eyed, in stepped James, wearing nothing more than a wide grin and a grand tumescence, with the comment, “Darling, I think you forgot to take care of something!” At Mary’s snort of laughter, James realized that it was more than just me in the bath. Yelling, “Ohmygod!” he bolted from the room, whilst Mary and I laughed uproariously.

After we had got our breath back, I asked my friend what she had thought of the sight she had just witnessed. Smiling, she complimented me on the length and breadth of the cock I had available to satisfy my carnal desires and claimed that it was even larger than the one that her husband possessed, though only by the slightest amount.

I finished bathing and Mary helped me to dry off, then I dressed to greet the new morning. James had mentioned the possibility of taking in an exhibition at a nearby museum, so I dressed somewhat more conservatively. I wore a rather slimming dark skirt and a high necked and long-sleeved blouse over a long and lacy shift. The blouse was sheer enough so that the shift was quite visible beneath, but since the shift was of a full coverage, the effect was more pretty than sexual in nature. I wore a pair of slippers of only medium height, as well. While dressing, Mary and I had another cup of coffee, and she served up a few sweetbreads and breakfast rolls to assuage my hunger.

As I finished brushing my hair, Mary and I heard a knock upon the door to the suite and we looked at each other curiously. Neither James nor I had been expecting any visitors, so I led the way to the door and opened it. I was greeted by Harry Kendrickson and another gentleman, an older and somewhat short and stout gentleman dressed in a conservative black suit. “Harry, what in the world are you doing here at this hour?” I asked, ushering the pair in.

“Waking slugabed children, of course,” he said unrepentantly, stepping inside. I snorted derisively at this and gave a curious glance at the gentleman who followed him in, and Harry introduced us. “Caroline, this is Mister Theodore Hawkes. Mister Hawkes, Miss Caroline Pendrake. Mister Hawkes has something to say to you and James,” he told me.

At this I raised an eyebrow. After asking Mary to serve coffee all the way around, I went to the door to James’ bedroom and knocked on it, informing him of our guests. He came out a few moments later, pulling on his vest and buttoning it, and Harry repeated the introductions. Mary excused herself and the four of us seated ourselves in the parlor, James and I on a couch and Harry and Mr. Hawkes in armchairs.

It was Mr. Hawkes who spoke first. “I gather that my nephew, Henry Pendergast, and you had some words last night. This morning, upon realizing the seriousness of his misbehavior, he wished to make his apologies for his actions of last night. Unfortunately, last night was in the fashion of a going-away party since he was to board ship for Europe this morning. As I saw him off this morning, he informed me of his misdeeds and asked me to apologize for him, and to say that a written apology will be sent as soon as possible. So, if I might, please let me extend his apologies, and indeed, the apologies of myself and our entire family, to you, sir, and to your lovely lady, and beg that the incident may be forgotten.”

James had drawn himself up rather stiffly and formally as he listened to this incredible tale. To be honest, I had almost forgotten the affair, so thoroughly had James ravished me afterwards, but I could see that James remembered it in its entirety. Speaking slowly, he said, “I would be willing to allow bygones be bygones for my own sake, but the insult was not to me, but to a lady who ill-deserved such treatment. It is in her hands to accept the apology, or not.” He nodded his head in my direction, and Mister Hawkes turned to face me.

I had no desire to drag the events out, so I simply replied, “I accept the apology and thank you for making it, sir. Let the incident be ended.”

Harry smiled at this and refilled our cups with coffee, as James and Mr. Hawkes visibly relaxed. James turned to Harry and asked, “What in the world are you doing here, Harry, and how did you get involved in this?”

Harry laughed, saying, “You forget, James, I am your second.”

James’ eyes widened to saucers. “Good Lord, I forgot all about that! You are, aren’t you?”

It was at this point that Mr. Hawkes spoke up. “Would you please explain what that was all about, sir? Mister Kendrickson described my nephew’s antics last night, but I fear that the description of what happened after is rather confused.” The rest of us looked at him, and he explained, “I mean really, a duel? In this day and age? And who challenged who?”

James and I explained the events of the prior evening, and Mr. Hawkes shook his head in evident disgust. Finally, he said, “I was afraid it was something along those lines. Harry came pounding on my door early this morning in the company of some of his wastrel friends, and from his condition and the raving story about a duel and Mr. Kendrickson’s card, I knew that something extraordinary had happened. To be honest, I bundled him off on the first boat that was sailing. I could not chance it being true; he’s my sister’s only son, worthless ass that he is.” He said this with great sadness, as if he knew that there was considerable doubt that this would change his nephew’s behavior.

James snorted at the idea of actually dueling, but I took his hand and said, “Mister Hawkes, I must inform you that whilst my fiancée would never have fought a duel, your nephew escaped lightly from his misbehavior. James has a rather protective outlook in regard to my person and is possessed of a most lethal nature as needs be. Earlier this year we were accosted by bandits and James was forced to prevent my abduction. He killed two of my attackers and wounded the other two.” A sudden concern overcame me, and I turned to face my love. “James, you wouldn’t have really dueled, would you?”

James laughed easily and patted my hand. “Never, or at least not here and now, though there was that one time in Baluchistan...”

Mister Hawkes blanched at all this, especially when Harry interjected, “Actually, James killed three of them.” James and I turned in his direction and stared at this statement. Harry gave a sheepish look, and continued, “Well, I remember how it was in all the newspapers, and I followed the story. One of the fellows you wounded later died, James.”

“The one who was shot or the one who was stabbed?” I asked.

Harry gave a faraway look as he tried to remember, then said, “Stabbed. An infection, I recall.”

Mister Hawkes had a ghastly look on his face as he excused himself. Harry poured himself another cup of coffee and we all settled back to discuss the rather unusual morning conversation. After a bit I asked Harry what his intentions were with regards to AnneMarie, mentioning what she had said of her ring. He gave an amused look. “Good heavens but I hope she doesn’t treat it as paste. My father gave that ring to my mother, and it’s worth a king’s ransom!’

“So, your intentions are honorable?” I pressed.

“What, don’t be silly!” he protested. “I am a man! My intentions are anything but honorable! If, however, you are asking if I plan on marrying the lady, then the answer is an emphatic ‘Yes!’”

James and I laughed at this whole-heartedly, and I invited Harry to bring AnneMarie to dinner tonight. Surprisingly, he demurred. “Perhaps another evening, but tonight I have a rather intimate entertainment planned.”

“Oh, how so?” I asked.

Harry gave a slightly uncomfortable look at the question, but James said, “You mentioned it Harry, not us.”

“Well, all right then. As I am sure you understand, AnneMarie and I are more than just friends. Well, this evening, I have made arrangements at a certain establishment, a house where we will be able to witness something beyond the norm, and we plan on visiting.”

“You’re taking AnneMarie to a bawdy house?” I exclaimed.

“Precisely. The one involved has a room in it through which you can watch through a looking glass into another room without being seen, to watch the antics of other revelers. When I mentioned the existence of such places to AnneMarie she became rather taken with the idea.”

I glanced across the couch at James and was quite unsurprised to find him attempting to hide a most prodigious erection within his trousers. I had known for quite some time that he had a pronounced voyeuristic bent; witness the proliferation of such mirrors and the secret passageways he had built throughout the mansion at home. I distinctly remember the evening when he watched Ahkbar and Siobhan having relations, and the profound effect it had on our own lovemaking later.

“Well, that sounds very interesting, indeed! You shall have to tell James the address of this house,” I said.

Harry started at the comment, looking at my beloved curiously. “Really, James, this would interest you?”

“It would positively fascinate me,” he admitted. “May I suggest the following, that you bring AnneMarie here tonight, and we shall all go out to dinner. Then, afterwards, we shall all attend this entertainment.”

“Intriguing,” commented Harry. “I agree most tentatively. Let me ask AnneMarie first, then I shall send a message, all right?”

Harry left, and as noon was fast approaching, James and I went down to the dining room for either a rather late breakfast or a rather early lunch. We dawdled over our meal and were pleasantly surprised when a waiter appeared with a message. He must have thought it rather cryptic, inasmuch as it said, “Agreed. Meet at six.”

This message changed our plans for the rest of the day since James became extraordinarily amorous as a result. His passions were aroused by the night ahead, so once we returned to our rooms, James wasted no time in undoing my clothes and having his way with my body. Truth be told, I was as excited as he was, and cooperated most wholeheartedly in this. After our first heated bout, with James atop me and my legs and arms wrapped tightly around his torso, we lounged back on the covers, as naked as the day we were born, and proceeded to slowly and languorously reignite our passions for further love play. We spent the rest of the afternoon in this delightfully sinful pastime, drifting off to a nap prior to eventually awakening, bathing, and dressing for dinner.

Dinner was an interesting affair in and of itself. For a change of pace, I suggested to James that we visit an Indian restaurant that we had dined at during our previous visit to New York. James had spent many years in India and the Orient as a young man, and was quite fond of the cuisine, though it was rather difficult to come by in Saratoga Springs! Since neither Harry nor AnneMarie had any experience with Indian food, it was an intriguing experience for them. Both of them were astonished at James’ ability to converse with the owners and staff of the restaurant in their native tongues.

There was little conversation about our eventual destination of our travels for the evening. I did note, however, that AnneMarie, while a perfect lady in every way, seemed neither apologetic nor embarrassed by our plans. While I was unsure whether such excitements and entertainments were a routine pastime for her and Harry, it was obvious to me that, like Siobhan and I, marriage was not a requirement for the joys of the marriage bed.

It was just after nine when our carriage delivered us to a house in the northern section of the island of Manhattan. It seemed to be of an average size, but proved deeper than expected, pushing well back upon the lot it sat on. Harry spoke with the doorman and our party was let in a side door. Once inside, we were greeted by the proprietress, a large and pleasant woman with the skin tone and facial features of a Mulatto, or perhaps a Quadroon. She ushered our group upstairs to a small room with several chairs and couches. Our coats and hats were hung in a closet and several bottles of champagne were opened and set about, along with flutes.

We were cautioned to remain as quiet as possible, and a heavy drape was opened across one of the walls. After our lights were doused completely, we could see that the wall behind the curtain was the rear of an immense looking glass, of the sort which is but partially silvered, so that when it was dark upon our side and brightly lit upon the other, we could witness events on the other side in perfect clarity. The room opposite us was also small, and though the furnishings and decor were as rich as the rest of the house, the only furniture consisted of a pair of armchairs and a daybed. James and Harry settled into a pair of oversized armchairs, and AnneMarie and I sat down upon our lovers’ laps to watch the festivities.