Chapter 1: A Reprise of my Circumstances

For those who have not yet been acquainted with my story, allow my introduction. My name is Caroline Pendrake, and I was born in the Year of our Lord 1880. I but recently came to live in America, traveling from my home in England.

Physically, I am somewhat on the small side, being but five feet in height and weighing only about seven stone. My hair is a golden blonde, which I wear long, to my waist, and I have deep blue eyes. My limbs are slender, as is my waist, though my hips are wide-set, and my bosom is the product of a most generous Creator. It may be vain to admit it, but most gentlemen seem to find my form rather appealing.

My father was a Captain in the British Army, seconded to the Foreign Office, and he and my mother were stationed all over Europe. Inasmuch as they did not consider this lifestyle conducive to the rearing of a young lady, I spent much time in the care of Mrs. Pembleton’s School for Young Ladies, a finishing school for young ladies located near London. Think not that they were foisting me off on others while they gallivanted around the continent; I spent all my vacations and summers with them. We were a most loving family!

When I was thirteen, that is to say, between three and four years ago, my parents died in a small typhoid epidemic. My nearest relative was a rather elderly second cousin who allowed me to continue my education at Mrs. Pembleton’s. However, earlier this year, he passed away, and his son decided that since women had no need of an education, he would no longer support me. Rather, I should specify that he would be happy to support me only if I were to move into his household. His smirk as he said this told me exactly the sort of sordid occupation he considered me suitable for, so I thanked him and removed myself from his odious presence as soon as possible.

Mrs. Pembleton and my father’s solicitor endeavored to discover any other relatives that I could turn to in my hour of need. Mrs. Pembleton considered that it was quite probable that I would be able to make my way as a clerk or shopkeeper, or even as a teacher or governess, certainly until I married, and as my background and family were most suitable, that I would most likely be able to marry well. You can imagine our surprise when we received a telegram from America, stating that a distant relative had been found and that he was welcoming me into his household.

It was with some trepidation that I made the journey to Saratoga Springs, in the province of New York, to greet this gentleman. I had assurances that if things did not work out, I would be welcomed back in England, but I was determined to begin making my own way in the world. However, no one was more surprised at my appearance in Saratoga than my uncle, Mr. James MacAllister. He is somewhat farsighted and had misread my letter, and thought I was six, and not sixteen. He had even engaged a nanny for my care!

In any event, we all overcame our surprise, and he welcomed me into his family, such as it was. James is a man in his early forties, though I am not precisely sure of his age, and is a tall and well-formed gentleman in the peak of his life. He is quite strong, though I was to discover that his musculature is rather wiry and not of great bulk, though he has a broad and manly chest, and is darkly tanned, with flowing and prematurely silvered hair and a generous mustache. He has several scars, derived from a youth spent abroad in India, the most notable being a long white scar along the left side of his face. He is an extremely attractive gentleman! He dresses predominantly in various shades of gray, charcoal, and black, though he always wears a snowy white silk shirt, as well as knee length cavalry boots, though he has never been in the military. He generally carries a walking stick which conceals a long blade, similar to a rapier, and often carries a small derringer in a vest pocket.

He had no other relations than me, not having married, and his household primarily consisted of his friend and companion Ahkbar Singh, a Musulman and a Sikh whom he had met and befriended in India. They were inseparable. Otherwise, he lived on a vast estate dedicated to the raising of thoroughbred and racehorses, in a mansion outside of Saratoga Springs in the Adirondack Mountains of Upstate New York. He is immensely wealthy, being an investor, though he came from quite humble beginnings. He made his first wealth in India, though some would consider it ill-gotten. He managed to rifle the jewelry of a local potentate when said individual turned on him and Mister Singh, intending to kill them. They managed to make their escape, killing the Sultan in turn, and escaped with their lives and his crown jewels, among other valuables.

The rest of the household consisted of Mrs. Siobhan Rourke, a beautiful red-haired Irish widow from Boston, whom he had originally intended to be my nanny, and then upon determining that I had no use for such, converted to his secretary. Otherwise, his household was a bachelor one, though he had a multitude of servants.