As Irving strode down the cobblestone street, a haze of smoke surrounded him. Women and men alike covered their faces with handkerchiefs in an attempt to avoid the acrid odor. Though the mask Irving wore often grew hot and uncomfortable, he was glad for it now. Rowena had filled its beak-shaped protrusion with a variety of pleasant-smelling herbs just that morning. When he drew in a breath, the comforting scent of lavender wafted into his nostrils.
Peering through the goggles of his mask, Irving couldn’t help but notice how the crowd quickly parted before him. As a renowned plague doctor, he was both respected and feared.
It was a short walk to the brougham carriage that awaited him. Charles, his loyal and reliable coachman, appeared more than ready to leave the pandemonium of the city behind. Even Gertie the mare seemed impatient.
“Shall we set off for home, Doctor?” Charles asked.
Irving nodded. His voice was muffled but audible through the mask as he replied, “My work here in the city is finished for the day.”
“Not a moment too soon,” the coachman muttered.
Once Irving was settled in the carriage, he gazed out the window. Even as darkness approached, houses lining the street remained unlit. Occasionally, he caught sight of a candle’s glow. No one wanted to draw the ire of the saboteurs. While the destruction had thus far been inflicted only on factories, any resident openly embracing new technology could well be a potential target.
Irving waited several minutes into the journey home before removing his mask. In his early days as a plague doctor, he regarded that mask with a reverence that bordered on religious. After all, it had protected him from many an illness. Now that he was certain he had developed a cure for one of the most dangerous plagues in the history of humanity, his need for the mask had lessened somewhat. Yet the patients who sought him out on a daily basis, and to whom he delivered the panacea he’d so recently discovered, were often afflicted with multiple maladies at once. Influenza remained a deadly pestilence and one for which he presently had no curative.
Inhaling deeply, Irving caught no scent of smoke. Though he lived just beyond the city, the rampage hadn’t yet escaped the municipal boundaries. Even if it did, he doubted the saboteurs would bring their havoc to his door.
Running a hand through his auburn hair, he found it was damp with sweat. It was weary work, calling upon the desperately ill, but both he and his patients had newfound hope. Every single one who took the medicine he offered soon recovered. Irving knew it wouldn’t be long before he was renowned not only in this city but throughout the world. His discovery would rid humanity of unfathomable suffering.
Darkness had fallen by the time the carriage arrived at Irving’s house. Like the dwellings in the city, his home’s windows were mostly unilluminated. A sigh of mild disappointment escaped him when he realized that Rowena had decided against using the electricity.
After wishing Charles a good evening, Irving went inside. Rowena waited for him in the front hall, wearing her usual welcoming smile. He happily accepted the kiss she planted on his cheek but didn’t touch her until he’d washed his hands. Placing his hat, mask, and medical bag on a nearby table, he asked, “Why are you greeting me by candlelight, my dear?”
Rowena’s smile faded. “A neighbor told me that the situation is dire in the city. The saboteurs are very well organized, and they’re destroying the steam turbines.”
Irving rolled his eyes in exasperation. “The Luddites were also very well organized, and look how things turned out for them.”
“I only thought it would be wise not to draw attention.” When Rowena patted her golden curls, which were piled atop her head, Irving immediately noticed the nervous gesture.
“I understand, darling,” he said in a gentler tone, “but I will need to use the electricity while working in my laboratory later on.”
Rowena followed him to his dressing room, which adjoined the bedroom they shared. By now, their routine was familiar, for she’d lived with Irving for the better part of a year. Each night when he returned home, he removed all his clothes while in the dressing room. Rowena always had a clean outfit waiting for him. Though he’d provided her with her own bedroom upon her arrival, that arrangement lasted only a month. It still made him smile, remembering the way she had slipped into his room, and into his bed, for the first time.
“How was your day?” she now asked him as he undressed in the shadows.
“It went well. My patients are much improved after taking the medicine I provided them. I have no doubt that each will make a full recovery.” Irving’s gaze met Rowena’s. “Just as you have.”
Rowena beamed at his words. Sometimes, he was gripped by the sudden impulse to draw her into his arms and ask, “Do you understand what you’ve brought about?” He wasn’t certain she did. It was only because of his desperation to save Rowena that he’d spent month after month toiling away in his laboratory in search of a cure.
When he’d first been called to her house on a spring morning of the previous year, she was a stranger to him. Her family was poor and rarely sought the help of a doctor. At nineteen, the young woman was terribly ill from the consumption which had long afflicted her. Irving feared he was too late to be of any benefit whatsoever, but Rowena’s health rallied following his first visit, during which he had insisted she must rest.
If he hadn’t yet fallen in love with her during their initial meeting, he surely did so upon seeing her for the second time. Though her complexion bore the pallor of a consumption patient, her eyes had brightened considerably.
Irving had already begun compiling the medical notes he’d taken during his years working as a doctor, and many of his solitary evenings were spent poring over chemistry and biology tomes in an effort to better understand the cause, and possible treatment, of tuberculosis. But after encountering Rowena, he resolved to commit most of his time to research.
Once she was strong enough to travel the short distance to his home, he suggested to her parents that she should come live with him, where he could better care for her. Rowena’s mother had a houseful of children and was reluctant to allow her eldest daughter to leave, but the woman eventually realized Rowena wouldn’t be of much help if she relapsed and weakened to the point where she lingered at death’s door. Rowena’s father was glad to be rid of her; to him, she was merely another mouth to feed.
Irving was twenty years older than Rowena, and despite his feelings for her, he had tried his best to behave in a fatherly manner. At first, her immense gratitude unnerved him, and he feared she reciprocated his romantic feelings not out of genuine affection but out of obligation. Yet he lacked the strength to turn her away when she came to his bed. Since then, they had lived as husband and wife. While Irving had proposed marriage several times, Rowena insisted it wasn’t necessary. She had surprisingly modern ways of thinking. Still, he thought he could eventually persuade her to make their bond official.
Almost immediately after Rowena came to live with him, he had a wing of the house hastily converted into a laboratory. It took much bureaucratic maneuvering, along with an astonishing amount of money, but he managed to have electricity available to his dwelling outside the city. Without the use of that amazing discovery, Irving’s research would have been considerably hindered. Perhaps he would not have developed a cure in time to save his beloved.
Irving empathized with the workers and understood what led them to regard steam power and electricity with such suspicion. After spending their lives enduring backbreaking work in factories, they were now at risk of being replaced by machines. Yet much of the world was now on the cusp of profound change; to stand in the way of progress was not only foolhardy but pointless.
It was progress that would allow Irving to arrange for his cure to be mass-produced. Already, he had contacted numerous colleagues; they consisted of fellow scientists and doctors, along with prominent businessmen. Funding would soon be available for widespread distribution. Rowena had willingly been his first test subject, and Irving was incredulous at how quickly the medication proved effective.
As patient after patient of his hastily recovered, he found it difficult to contain his excitement. Now, standing naked before Rowena in his dressing room, he thought she sensed his anticipation, for she moved to grasp his hands. Not for the first time, he wished he could better see the stunning blue of her eyes, but the low light prevented him from doing so. “Soon, Rowena, the white plague will be a nightmare consigned to the past.”
She embraced him with a strength he’d once feared she would never again possess. Closing his eyes, he held her to him. It was both strange and delightful to be naked while she remained fully clothed. Her dress was sensible, lacking all of the impracticalities of current ladies’ fashion, and its fabric was soft against his bare skin.
This, too, was a frequent ritual they shared. It seemed that even a day apart was more than either could bear, for Rowena eagerly sought out his mouth for a kiss. He returned it with a passion he never dared display in their first months of courtship, before she was completely well. Always, he had been so careful with her.
Reaching between them, Rowena stroked Irving to full hardness. Her breathing quickened along with his, and her skillful fingers drew a moan from his throat. When he lifted her into his arms, she released a peal of laughter. “Irving, what are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed, sweetheart.”
The room they shared was also illuminated by candlelight. An oil lamp would have been more practical, but their use had exacerbated Rowena’s symptoms when she was ill, leading Irving to eschew them altogether. Of course, electricity was far more preferable to candles, but he was willing to humor Rowena that evening.
Gently, he set her down on the edge of the bed. When she began unbuttoning her dress, he placed a hand over hers to stop her from continuing. In the semi-darkness, he could see her bemusement, but understanding quickly replaced it the moment he sank to his knees.
Without protest, she allowed him to lift the skirt of her dress, along with her petticoats. His prick strained out from him, already aching to be buried inside the woman he loved. Yet an even stronger need had overpowered him. Nestling farther between Rowena’s spread thighs, Irving drew in a deep breath. Her scent, faint but unmistakable, spurred his desire.
Perhaps she realized his longing to be controlled, for she placed a hand against the back of his head and guided him closer. Her drawers, open at the crotch, provided him ready access to her quim, and his mouth watered in eagerness for that first taste.
Rowena let out a soft cry when Irving slid his tongue over her warm, slick flesh. During their first time making love, he had found that she was utterly naïve to the exquisite pleasure her clitoris could give. With his fingers and mouth, he’d repeatedly shown her how it could be stimulated.
That pearl readily swelled beneath his tongue now, for Rowena was always easily aroused. Soon, she produced enough fluid to coat the lower part of his face. He worked his tongue even faster against her, reveling in the way she grabbed fistfuls of his hair. The damp mass of curls covering her sex made her scent all the more powerful. His own moans, along with the sound of his heavy breathing, grew muffled when she draped her legs over his shoulders and clamped her thighs around his head.
“Please!” she begged. “Don’t make me wait any longer, Irving!”
In response, he began gently nibbling her clitoris. The sensation made her squeal with ecstasy, and mere seconds after he circled his lips around that bud to suckle it, a fierce shudder coursed through her body.
Irving wanted to grin in triumph at making her wail and writhe, but he kept his lips exactly where they were, delivering a bliss so overwhelming that she soon pleaded for mercy. When he didn’t immediately grant it, she struggled to escape him.
Reluctantly, he withdrew. Rowena was still panting as she reached for him, and he knew she could taste herself in their kiss. Unlike women he had bedded in the past, she seemed eager to encounter her own juices on his lips.
Her impatience was evident as she pulled Irving onto the bed. With firm hands, she eased him onto his back, her stare fixed on his hard member all the while. Always, she had been happy to take him in her mouth, and that evening was no exception.
Often, Irving wondered what kind of wife Rowena would have been to another man. If she hadn’t fallen too ill to marry, she would most likely be living in the home of a husband closer to her age and social standing. Could he have loved her in such a way? Would he have possessed the knowledge not only of his body but also of hers, in order to please her so?
Perhaps Irving had saved Rowena in more ways than one. But he knew she had saved him as well.
His moans sounded helpless as she wrapped her lips and fingers around his shaft. While her tongue eagerly swirled over his glans, she stroked the rest of his length. She’d once revealed how much she enjoyed the movement of his foreskin, and he gasped when she now worked the tip of her tongue beneath it. “Ah, you naughty girl!” he said through low, pleased laughter. He knew it delighted her to be able to surprise him.
By the time she began sucking his prick with a force that hollowed her cheeks, he was quickly approaching his own release. Nevertheless, he propped himself up to watch as her mouth slid farther down his erection. How beautiful she was! Witnessing her blatant enthusiasm in performing such an erotic act made him tremble.
Though Irving knew Rowena would readily swallow his seed, he was desperate to be inside her. “Ride me, darling!” he urged in a strained voice.
While still completely dressed, she moved to straddle him, lifting her skirts in order to easily manage the change in position. As she guided him inside of her, he felt his breath catch in his throat, for she looked so lovely then. The shadows failed to obscure her flushed cheeks, but it wasn’t fever or illness that reddened them. No, she was the picture of health.
And her stamina while riding his hard prick only served to further convince him that she was truly healed. A rush of joy, mingled with undeniable love, surged through him, causing his eyes to fill with tears.
Rowena didn’t notice, and it was just as well, for he never doubted that she understood the intensity of his affection for her. When he cupped her breasts, she leaned into his touch, her cries as rhythmic as the movement of her hips.
Before long, they were both perspiring. Her quim remained tight around him, and Irving whimpered at the feel of her muscles constricting even more. Of course, she realized the effect her body had on him, for a sly smile danced upon her lips.
Irving closed his eyes, struggling to last. Tonight, her stamina threatened to outmatch his! Behind his lowered lids, he saw vivid images of their past and present lovemaking: the sucking and licking, the exploration of previously forbidden entrances.
It soon became too much. Rowena must have felt him shaking, for she climaxed while giving voice to a fierce wail. He managed to hold back only a few seconds more. Groaning from both relief and utter satisfaction, he filled her with his seed.
Afterward, she lay upon his naked chest. The night’s chill had begun seeping into the room, and he was glad for the warmth she provided. Stroking her hair, he listened to her breathing return to normal.
So that she would fully understand her place in his life, and in the future yet to unfold, Irving whispered, “You have inspired one of the greatest discoveries in modern history, my love. And try as he might, no man can stem the tide of change.”
