Venus in India (8 page)

Read Venus in India Online

Authors: Charles Devereaux

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Victorian

BOOK: Venus in India
12.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

'Oh! Charlie! Help me to my bathroom!'

But I ran and got her a chillumchee [brass basin] and brought it to her, and she, poor creature, was deadly sick. I held her burning forehead in my hands and did all I could to comfort her, and to assist, and at last, completely exhausted, she sank back and her whole appearance alarmed me. When I came home she was fairly cool, but now she was the colour of a penny, and her skin was hot, parched and burning. I guessed she had a fever and the suddenness of the attack alarmed me. All that night I tended her, keeping her well covered up to induce perspiration, and from time to time gave her water to drink for which she moaned. Nobody who has not watched a sickbed under circumstances somewhat similar can tell how tedious, how weary, such a watch is, especially when, as in my case, the watcher is ignorant of what he ought to do, and has to go by instinct, as it were. At length, just as the morning began to break, Lizzie seemed to fall into a sound sleep. Her breathing was more regular and easy, her colour was more natural, and - blessed be heaven - her skin was again cool and moist. It was evident that the strength of the attack had passed.

Satisfied that Lizzie was really in a healthful sleep, I got myself a cool peg, and then going back to the bedside I sat down in my chair, leaned my head against her pillow and fell into a sound sleep myself. How long I slept I do not know but I was at length awakened by Soubratie, who touched me and murmured that sickening: 'Sa-hib! S-a-a-hib!' in my ear with which your native servant always rouses you.

'What is it? said I, raising my heavy head.

'Major Stone, sahib! Outside on verandah! Wanting see master!' replied Soubratie who spoke English like a native.

'Major Stone! Oh! yes! all right! Tell him I will be with him in a moment, Soubratie.'

'Yes, sahib!'

I felt desperately tired and not in a pleasant humour at having my much needed rest broken. However, after a yawn or two, and an anxious glance at poor Lizzie, who seemed to have quite regained her ordinary appearance and to be having a really sound and refreshing sleep, I tightened the strings of my pyjamas, and went on to the verandah, where I heard the footsteps of my friend the major as he moved about somewhat impatiently. Seeing me come from Lizzie's room in sleeping costume, he put up his hands in mock deprecation and said, sotte voce: 'Oh! Oh-h-h! Captain Devereaux! Oh-h-h!' and he put on such a comical look I could not help smiling.

'Not so fast, major, please! Appearances may be against me, but I think I can give a satisfactory explanation. The lady who lives in that room was most dreadfully ill last night and I, out of pure charity, have been nursing her!'

'In your nightshirt and pyjamas, exactly! I expect she required a little cordial administered by an enema, only in front instead of behind, and required your services and elixir! Oh! Devereaux! it won't do, my boy, but Jack Stone is not the man to preach; still he would like his friends to be frank with him, so, Devereaux, you may as well tell the truth and confess that, full of my description of Mrs Searle, and the splendid night I had between her plump white thighs, you came home and spent, I hope, as good a night with the fair lady in there! Confess now!'

'Quite wrong, major, I can assure you! I plead guilty to having been much moved and stirred by your voluptuous narrative, and as human nature is frail, I dare say might have spent such a night as you believe, only that the lady was, as I said, fearfully ill, and all owing to that blackguardly brute Searle, too!'

'Ah!' said the major, 'that is just what I have come to enquire about. Look here, Devereaux, there is a devil of a row on. Searle was brought home last night between seven and eight o'clock, whilst we were at mess, with five or six ribs broken, his right leg broken above the ankle, his nose smashed flat, his front teeth driven down his throat, and battered, cut and bruised all over. In fact, the doctor hardly expects him to pull through, he is so fearfully weak, and so completely smashed to bits. The corporal of the picket reports that hearing a disturbance going on in the dak bungalow, he doubled his men down and caught sight of two men of the 130th running away, and hearing loud voices in the bungalow compound, he found a crowd of natives and two civilians, Europeans, standing round the brigade major, who was lying on the ground, all doubled up, and from what he could gather there was a woman at the bottom of it, but he could give no clear account of what had happened, or how it had happened, or anything. Well, the colonel is, of course, much put about. We none of us love Searle, who is a sulky brute, if a good officer, but a brigade major can't be half killed without a row being made about it, so he has sent me to try and find out all about it and as I guessed you would very likely have heard something, I came first to you.'

I then gave the gallant major a succinct account of the whole business, as told me by Lizzie. I had to undergo some unmerciful chaffing from Stone about her, and found it impossible to hide from him the truth about my relations with her. But he promised to be mum, and, as he said, there was no need for my name to be mentioned at all in the business, at all events at present, and perhaps not at all, as I was not at the bungalow when Searle was there but at the mess, luckily for me!

Armed with his news, and quite interested how it was that Lizzie should have had such violent ill usage, and should have passed through such a terrible scene, he returned to make his report to his colonel, and about four o'clock he sent me a note, or chit as it is called in India, to say that the colonel had agreed to hush the whole matter up, and simply report Major Searle on the sick list, and him - Jack Stone - acting station staff officer. He went on by saying that the sooner the parties were out of Nowshera the better, and he advised me to prepare Lizzie for a start; he would order a dak gharry for her as soon as one could be got, and a couple of ekkas for me, the ekka being the only wheeled vehicle which could run on such a road as there was from Publi to Shakkote.

Meanwhile, after Stone had gone, I returned to my post beside poor Lizzie. I watched her for a short time and presently she woke; seeing me still there, and neither shaven nor dressed, she rightly concluded that I had not been to bed all night.

'Oh! Charlie! how kind! how good of you! How can I ever repay you!'

By getting well as quick as you can, my Lizzie. And then -'

'Ah! Won't I just! If I was kind before I will be doubly kind now! But I am all right! I had a bad go of fever last night, and my poor legs are stiff and sore, but I am well! If I only had some quinine, now would be the time to take it, just to keep off a second attack of fever.'

I had purchased a bottle of this invaluable powder at Bombay, and I ran and got it, and gave her the quantity she said would be right, in a glass of water.

'There,' she said, having made a wry face as the bitter dose ran down her throat, 'now something to eat, for I feel faint for want of food and I am hungry. You see I was bad, my Charlie, but I think it was more fright than anything else.'

I had, when I left her to go and get my peg that morning and before I went to sleep, called Soubratie and ordered him to prepare and have ready whenever it might be called for, some strong beef tea, and this I had brought, hot and refreshing, to Lizzie, who was really moved at this additional proof of my care and devotion to her.

'Oh! Charlie! If all men were only like you!' she exclaimed, and the soft tears of gratitude rolled down her lovely cheeks. I kissed them off and she put my hand on one of her swelling breasts, saying: 'There! my Charlie! I would let you have me this morning if I could, but I feel too weak for that. I dare say when I have had another good sleep I shall be better, and then darling, we will fuck, won't we!'

I laughed and said we would and put her hand, in my turn, on my bunch of charms, and showed her how greatly fatigue and watching had reduced the strength and vigour of what the most ardent battles between her shapely thighs had failed to subdue. Poor Lizzie! She looked so disappointed! But as her little hand toyed with my limp prick and played with my relaxed balls, fresh life came, and to her joy she succeeded in raising a perfect standard, to be planted as soon as possible in the keeping of her fort. But both of us were wearied and tired out, and I told her she should go to sleep, and that I would go to my own bed and sleep too, for I was dead tired, and with more sweet kisses and caresses she turned on her side and was soon asleep. I then left her and going to my own room threw myself on my much needed couch, in the cool breeze of the swinging punkah, and was soon sound asleep.

Whilst Lizzie and I are thus hors de combat, it will, I think, be a good time to tell my dear readers her early history, and I will endeavour to keep her words as nearly as possible. So, gentle readers, imagine that Lizzie and I are either seated on the verandah, after our dinner, or are in or rather on the bed together, whilst she tells her artless tale, certain portions of which she and I illustrated by very suggestive action when either her memory added fuel to the amorous passion which made her blood boil or my wanton fancy stirred all the man in me.

'Well, Charlie, I was born and bred in Canterbury. My earliest recollections are all associated with that dear old place, and for the first thirteen years of my life I never left it. My mother is the only parent I can remember. My mother was a dressmaker by trade and custom was good. She never seemed in want of money, whether she had work or not; on the other hand, though we had an honest plenty in our house, there were no luxuries, nothing for mere show, except perhaps in one of the rooms kept for ladies to try their dresses on, where she had some little knick-knacks for appearance's sake. As a child I used to think that a splendid room, and wonder if anyone else had as fine things as my mother had! So you must understand we had a sunny, warm house, good food, good plain clothes, good beds, in fact, everything which was required for real comfort, but nothing superfluous.

'My mother kept no servant, that is, no one actually lived in the house as such; an old charwoman came every morning and did what scrubbing and cleaning was required. My mother and I did light dusting, made our beds, etc., and cooked our simple meals. Until I was twelve years old I went to school, and as I was pretty quick, I learnt perhaps more there than girls usually do. And there, too, I formed acquaintances among the other girls, and as our conversations were not always about lessons and sums, apples or lollipops, I gathered some information about the relations of the sexes, about lovers and their ways, which I did not repeat to my mother. However, what I did learn in this way in no respect had any effect upon me or my morals. I knew I had a little cunnie, and that I should have babies one of these days, and that I should have regular monthly illnesses. I believed that I should marry, and when I did, I believed that my husband would put his 'thing' into my 'little thing' and that in time I should have a child, as I saw all married women do, but although girls used to talk about these matters, there was never any reference to the vast delight to be found in fucking. We were all too young to know more than something vague and undefined. But before I was thirteen my mother withdrew me from school, no only because I was growing very tall for my age, but because my bosom began to form, and two lovely little doves of breasts to push out on either side of my chest. With what pride and pleasure did I see them grow. Even my mother, when she bathed me regularly every Saturday in a tub before I went to bed, remarked on them, and said to me one day, "Lizzie, you will have a perfect bosom. I don't remember ever seeing prettier or better placed breasts, or any which looked to be so quick growing." And I would notice her eye give a quick look down at my cunnie, and I guessed she was looking to see if my hair there was beginning to sprout. But my bubbies were a good bit grown before any came. However, the hair and my menses came almost together. First there was a profusion of little black-looking points all over what you call my motte, Charlie, and hairs grew from them very rapidly, so quickly indeed that by the day I was thirteen I had quite a nice bush which I could twine round my finger. My cunnie, too, underwent a marked change. It seemed to grow fatter and become more formed. I can hardly explain, but I am sure you must have noticed similar changes in your prick and balls when your bush began to grow. You may say, then, that as far as outward appearances were concerned, I was quite a woman at thirteen and I had a fair amount of flesh on my bones, a lovely bosom, a nice waist, fine swelling hips, good thighs and very pretty feet and ankles. I was too well formed altogether for short dresses, and my mother made me some long ones, in which I used to admire myself in the tall glass in the trying-on room. Still although I certainly did admire myself, it never entered my head to court the admiration of men. I had not, as yet, felt the least spark of desire, and if, as I dare say she did, my mother watched to see any signs of coquetry or flirting in me, she saw none, for there were none to be seen. However, I was much nearer the realisation of the hidden stores of pleasure I had within me, than either she or I was aware of.

At the back of our house was a longish bit of garden, say something like fifty or sixty feet long, by thirty or forty feet wide. This garden was my mother's pride, for she raised early potatoes, and all kinds of vegetables in it for our use, besides plenty of pretty and sweet flowers, so that we always had nice vegetables for dinner, and nosegays for our table and mantelpiece. At the end of the garden was a lane on the side of which was a row of stables where the officers of the cavalry used to keep their private horses. I used to be very fond of leaning against our little wicket to see those beautiful horses, all bridled and saddled, being taken to their masters for exercise. Sometimes the officers themselves came to have a look at the stables, but they paid no attention to me, so I was quite accustomed to looking on without being spoken to. About August, however, when I was a little more than three months older than thirteen, some stables, which had been empty, were taken by an officer who had three beautiful horses. I was curious to see who this officer was, for he was new, and so one evening I was watching for him, hoping he would come, when I saw a tall, slight, but a fine and very handsome young officer in undress uniform, stable jacket, breeches, long boots and spurs, and his gold-laced cap well on one side and far back on his head, come walking at a smart pace down the lane, smacking his boot every now and then with his riding whip and looking right and left, as if he were taking everything in and that everything was new to him.

He looked at me, too, and gave me a good stare, and then he saw the stable beside me, muttered something to himself, looked at me again, and with a little mock salute with his whip he turned into the stable. Then I knew that that was the new officer. There was something about him which took my fancy at once. He seemed so different from the others I had seen. They had always looked so heavy and black about the face, and altogether as if nothing was worth noticing on either side of them; whilst my new officer was so trim and jaunty, so pretty and nice looking, and he had actually smiled at me, and shown me that he had seen me. I felt quite a flutter when he made his little mock salute, and half drew back from the gate I was leaning on, but I did not go away. I wanted to see him again, so I stayed. Presently out he came, talking to the groom, then the groom went back into the stable. The young officer looked up the lane and down the lane whilst he pulled on his gloves, then, seeing me, he came playfully towards me, made me a little bow, smiled, and saying, "Good evening, Polly. A nice evening this," he turned and walked rapidly away. A new flutter again came into my bosom. I know I looked wistfully after him, and was delighted when, turning his head, he looked back at me from a little distance, and again waved his whip at me. Poor little fool that I was! I had fallen in love and I did not know it! But so it was!

'Well, evening after evening this young officer and I met this way. Nothing more than what I have described passed between us. If an evening came and he did not appear, I used to feel so grieved. I missed him dreadfully. I found out that his name was the Honourable Charles Vincent, and that he was a captain in the Hussars. I heard the grooms speak and that was how I knew; besides, all his horses had a big C. V. worked in white letters on their clothing,.

'Did I tell you that at the end of our garden, in the corner and next the road, was a little old shed without any door? No? Well, there was and I had planted honeysuckle and clematis and a climbing rose against it and as a schoolgirl used to love to learn my lessons there, when it was fine, warm weather. The honeysuckle and rose and other climbing plants had grown very well, and the dirty old shed was transformed by them into quite an elegant bower.

'One evening my handsome officer did not come as usual. I was vexed and sorry, for I did love seeing him, and he always seemed to look for me. I heard his groom talking to the men in the next stable, saying he wondered the captain did not come, that the bay mare was sick and he had told his master of it. So I knew my hero was coming. I went into my bower and sat down and listened and peeped through the chink into the lane. Soon the grooms all went away but one, and that was Captain Vincent's. At last he seemed to be altogether out of patience, and I heard him swear and talk to himself, saying he would be damned if he would stay any longer; he would go and get his glass, and then he would come back. So he locked the stable and put the key into his pocket and went off.

'Well, I waited and waited! At last I heard the footstep I knew so well, and with a heart beating as if I had really expected and ardently wished for a lover, I went out and stood as usual at the gate. The sun was setting and all the lane was in shadow. Captain Vincent came walking quickly, saw me, smiled as usual, saying, "Good evening, Polly!", and tried the door of his stable. Finding it locked he kicked at it, so, as I knew there was no one in there, I called out, "Sir, the groom waited for you, and after a while said that he must get his glass, but that he would come back."

'"Oh! did he, Polly? Thank you, my dear!" and then coming near me he went on, "How long ago was it that the groom went?"

'"Oh!" said I, guessing, for the time had seemed dreadfully long to me while waiting, "about three quarters of an hour, I should say, sir."

'"Three quarters of an hour," the captain exclaimed, looking at his watch, "well, then he should be along soon now, I should think. And how are you, Polly? I see you here every day. What a pretty hand! What a lovely girl you are, Polly! I declare I must marry you! Will you marry me, Polly, if I ask you?"

'Well, of course I was a little fool, but I could not help being pleased beyond measure at his admiration, though it was quite plain to me that his question about marriage was only a joke.

'"Oh! sir!" said I, "don't be making fun of me! You know I cannot marry you, sir!"

'"Well," said he, "at any rate you could give me a kiss, child, could you not, Polly?"

'I felt my face burning. It was just what I was longing for. Oh! I cannot tell you how I had longed to be taken notice of by him. I looked around carefully, and seeing no one in sight, I said: "If you are quick, sir, because someone might see and then there would be talk."

'The words were hardly out of my mouth before the gallant and eager captain had his lips to mine, and gave me such a kiss as I had never had before in my life, a kiss which seemed to go right through my body down to my very feet!

'"Polly!" said he, in a low voice, "could I come into your summerhouse after I have seen my horses and chat with you a little while?"

'I knew there might be a little chance of mother seeing him, so I said quickly and with a palpitating heart, "Yes sir! I'll go in now, and wait, and you can come in when you are ready, but please don't stand there talking to me - for fear - you know!"

'"I understand," said he, his eyes blazing as they looked into mine, and he turned away and walked a little down the lane, in the direction the groom had gone. I went into the 'summerhouse', as he called it, and stood watching at the chink. Oh! how my heart beat! Would he kiss me again! How I wished the groom would come, for if I stayed out too long my mother might call for me to come in. At last the groom came and the captain and he had some little talk, but no quarrel. I think I prevented that, for I am sure Captain Vincent was angry when he found his man had not waited for him, but now he was certainly glad. He did not stay long in the stable. He and the groom came out together, and walked away down the lane. Oh! what a pang I felt! Was he not coming then? How cruel! how cruel! I could not help it, I sat down and began to cry and sob, and all of a sudden there was my lover, inside the little house. He had come back as quick as he could, and had only walked the groom out of the lane to get rid of him. I sprang up as he came in, and he saw I had been crying, and he sat down and pulled me on his knee, and with one arm around my waist and his right hand on my bosom, he gave me, oh! hundreds of kisses! He seemed quite excited, and I was simply beside myself with happiness and joy.

Other books

The Video Watcher by Shawn Curtis Stibbards
Playing at Forever by Michelle Brewer
A Texas Soldier's Family by Cathy Gillen Thacker
Big Bad Love by Larry Brown
Passion by Gayle Eden