Chapter 2: Our Return to Saratoga

We spent the remainder of the weekend in our rooms, living on room service and never fully dressing. Indeed, James seemed to revel in dining with me en deshabile, wearing only a dressing gown and his trousers, and I would wear even less. Most meals I wore my stockings and slippers alone, though occasionally I would add a transparent robe or ‘Merry Widow’ corset of the sort that cupped and exposed my bosom to his view. Our deserts were often each other!

Monday morning, we dressed, and James ordered up a coach to drive us to a jeweler. Once inside, he reached into his pocket and pulled forth a small velvet bag and emptied it onto a velvet mat on the counter. The young clerk stared at the vast array of diamonds inside, and almost ignored James’ statement that he wished one of the stones set in a ring, for our engagement. The astonished young man scurried into the back, to return shortly with an older gentleman, who seemed much less surprised by the sight. He traded greetings with us, then began examining the diamonds carefully, even going so far as to place a lens to his eye.

“Extraordinary!” he breathed quietly. “Magnificent!” He repeated these words several times, then looked up at us and smiled hesitantly. “A ring, you say?”

James smiled and nodded towards me. “An engagement ring if you please. I assume that you should be able to make an appropriate setting. I realize this is somewhat unusual, but the gems have been in my possession for a while now.”

“Certainly, sir.” The jeweler looked over the stones briefly, then picked one up. He examined it a second time and set it aside. “That would be the one.” I glanced at it; it was a large gem, though not the largest, and seemed somewhat large for a ring. “Somewhere between three and four carats I should say, and flawless and perfectly cut.” He waved a hand over the others and said, “These are either smaller or not quite as well cut or the same quality stone, you understand. Nothing wrong with them, really, excellent quality, excellent. Just not the same...”

“That would be fine,” replied James.

In short order I found myself being sized for rings, both engagement and wedding, in gold, though the wedding would take place the following summer. James had wanted an immediate ceremony, but I had insisted that we wait; I had also informed him that the joys of the wedding bed need not be delayed until the wedding, so he had happily acquiesced. As we prepared to leave, James scooped up the loose jewels and began placing them back in the velvet sack.

The jeweler watched this wistfully, and said, “You know, I would love to do something with those stones. Perhaps a necklace?”

James stopped and eyed the gentleman curiously. “Really? I must confess I’d never considered such. Could you?” He set the bag down on the counter again.

The jeweler poured the diamonds onto the velvet again, then briefly went about arranging them, smiling as he did so. He grinned at us, and replied, “One worth a king’s ransom! Please, allow me. I’d kill for the chance for a commission such as this. The rings shall be free, simply give me the chance!”

James laughed and agreed, leaving the bag of gems upon a receipt of their ownership. As we left, he laughed. “A king’s ransom!”

I tucked my arm in his and replied, “A sultan’s, at the least.”

We stayed in New York a few days more, seeing the sights until the rings were prepared. The necklace would take several more days, and the jeweler promised to bring it to us personally. We departed on Thursday morning for the train ride back to Saratoga. It was an early morning ride, so we had most of the baggage prepared the night before, but we still managed to oversleep and very nearly missed the train. We had but minutes to rouse and bathe and dress, and no time at all for a breakfast. We dined on the Pullman car as soon as practicable.

Once we were in the first-class carriage, I began to torment my beloved in a most delightful way. Shortly after we had left the station, I turned to him, and in a very low voice, said, “James, I fear to admit this, but we were so hurried this morning that I forgot to put my bloomers on.”

He stared at me and gasped, “You mean ... you ... on the train...”

“What, James, you mistake me! What a scandalous thought. I simply wanted you to know,” I replied.

He surreptitiously looked at my lap, then glanced away out the window. I kept up this delicious torture for the balance of our travel. Several times an hour I would say something along the lines of, “I’m so sorry James that we were hurried this morning, since I know how much you enjoy me waking you up,” referring to our habit, whereupon I almost always would wake before him. Since we both slept naked in each other’s arms, it was very easy for me to slide the covers down and lower my face to his loins, to lick and suckle him to release within my lips. Often this would lead to a second, more active, session of love play. I also asked if train rides were conducive to such bouts since the rhythmic motions of the ride had heated my loins and moistened them.

James became more agitated at each such teasing, to the point where he exclaimed that he would be retiring to the parlor car, where women were not welcome. I desisted at this point, hugging him, and kissing him warmly, and promising to behave. “By God, Caroline, you will be the death of me yet. I have a good mind to give you a proper spanking!”

“Oh, but James, whenever you have lifted my skirts in the past, spanking has never before been on your mind,” I replied.

“Bah!”

I laughed and embraced him again, then he relented and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I fell asleep with my head on his chest. I next woke when we stopped in Saratoga, and we hired a carriage to take us to his estate. The entire household greeted us when we came in, and James announced to one and all that we were to be married. This set the maidservants into an uproar, crowding around me, and ogling at my new ring. I immediately asked Siobhan, who had returned from her vacation in Boston the prior day, to be my Maid of Honor, and she promptly accepted, setting off another flurry of congratulations. Even Mister Singh seemed taken with it all, repeatedly congratulating James and offering me his sincerest condolences.

Following a late lunch, James invited me into his study, so we could peruse the correspondence which had assuredly accumulated in our absence. Once inside, however, James locked the door and strode up to me. He embraced me most heatedly, then twirled me around so as I was facing his desk. Pushing me face forward across the desk, he stepped behind me. I could hear him undoing his pants, then I felt his hands lifting my skirts to my waist. As I had told him, I was naked beneath but for my stockings, and he immediately inserted himself into me.