by Maggie Ryan
Sinking onto a chaise, Juliette shook her head. “I don’t know, Alice. I also have absolutely no idea what to pack.”
“Well, what does one wear in the colonies?” Alice asked, her hand sweeping over the stack of hat boxes she’d already pulled from the shelf of the armoire.
“America, Alice, I don’t believe they’ve referred to themselves as the colonies since they declared their independence.”
“Pack whatever you wish, child,” Willamina said as she entered. “If there is anything Americans love more than their victory; it is English money. I’m quite sure that we’ll be able to find everything we need in their shops.”
The last item Juliette tucked into her trunk was a wedding photo of her parents. Her mother and father looked so happy, so young and carefree, their smiles far broader than those seen in most static photos. Despite growing up in a home devoid of love, she had no doubt that the couple had truly loved each other.
“She’d be so proud of the woman you’ve become,” Willamina said, a soft smile on her lips. “Christina was my angel and yet quite a handful at times. You have inherited not only her beauty but also her strength. She’d approve of you going on a grand adventure.”
“She inherited those traits from you, Gram. I’m sorry for the reason we are sailing to America but I can’t say I’m sorry to be leaving England.”
The next morning, Juliette turned to Alice. “I will miss you a great deal and pray that Father does not take out his anger on you.” Pressing an envelope into her hand, she said, “I’ve written you a letter of reference. I’m not saying that you’ll need it but in case he makes life too difficult, you can have options.”
“You are a good woman, Miss Juliette; always worrying about others before yourself. I’ll miss you as well and have warned Mabel to take very good care of you. I hope you forgive me for being so forward, but I want to say that I believe your grandmother is right. This is an adventure. I’m going to think of you finding the perfect life. Promise me you will.”
“I promise to try,” Juliette said, the two hugging as friends and not as employer and servant.
She thought she’d seen it all but discovered her father still had the power to shock her. The trunks had been loaded but they had a few hours to fill before the ship sailed. Cook Starling had provided a luncheon that would feed an army as it seemed she made every dish that Juliette enjoyed. Filling her plate, she’d just taken a bite of lamb when her father bellowed.
“The bastard! Who the hell does he think he is! He has the unmitigated gall to…” Both women watched as the letter he’d opened was wadded into a ball and thrown onto the table to bounce and land in Juliette’s plate before he turned and stormed from the room.
Stunned, she lifted the ball and wiped the mint jelly from the paper before slowly opening it, using her fingers to smooth it as much as she could. Her cheeks heated as her eyes dropped down the page reading the words. She could feel her heart rate increasing as understanding of her father’s rage filled her.
“Oh, sweet Lord,” she moaned, “he… I can’t believe…”
“What is it, child?” Willamina asked, their roles of the previous afternoon reversed as the older woman moved to take the chair next to her granddaughter to offer comfort.
A sound between a strangled gasp and a laugh broke free as Juliette lifted the letter. “It seems as if I do have an offer of marriage. Well, that or an offer of something at least. No wonder Father is about to have apoplexy.” This time the giggles that escaped had Willamina reaching to take the letter from her hand, quickly skimming down the page as Juliette continued.
“Part of me is itching to be naughty and accept his offer,” Juliette admitted and then gave another strangled laugh as she took the letter back. “Can you imagine me as Malcolm’s stepmother? Instead of worrying about finding me a husband, Father could worry about which of us would be facing a murder charge, me or my daughter-in-law.”
“That’s not the least bit amusing.” Horace shouted as he returned. His words had her hysteria dying in her throat.
“I didn’t mean…”
“I’m done,” Horace said, tossing a large envelope onto the table. “There is no hope in hell that I’d find anyone for you once Doulworth’s offer becomes public. How dare he think I’d allow you to… to become either his wife or his ladybird! That arrogant bastard will not get a single farthing of my money. Take it, spend it all, or burn it. Hell, invest in a whorehouse for all I care. Just know that nothing else will be coming to you. Now, go!”
“Father, please…”
Her call did not change his direction and she jumped in her chair with the sound of his slamming the door reverberated around the house.
“He… he means it doesn’t he, Gram? He really hates me.”
“Child, he hates the entire world. Come, there is no reason to stay.” Juliette allowed her grandmother to guide her from her chair. Looking at the small box that had come with the letter, she knew her father would have a stroke if he opened it and discovered that the personal item mentioned in the missive were her missing drawers. Moving from her seat, she took the box and instructed Mr. Grady to toss it in the nearest fire. If the butler wondered at her reasoning, he didn’t so much as flinch as he assured her that it would be taken care of immediately. Juliette accepted the envelope her father had thrown onto the table from her grandmother when it was pressed into her hand.
She watched the manor grow smaller and smaller as the carriage wound down the drive, tears welling as her childhood home disappeared with the final bend in the road. “I’ll never return will I?” she whispered.
“Possibly not,” Willamina acknowledged and Juliette was grateful that her grandmother wasn’t offering false hope of any reconciliation between father and daughter.
Sighing, Juliette held the envelope in both hands before opening the flap. Glancing inside, she gasped at the sight of banknotes. Thumbing through them, she pulled out letters written to allow her to have additional funds transferred into an account in her name at the bank of her choice.”
“He’s paid me my dowry,” she said softly. “I-I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry.”
“Do both if you need but allow it to be the last time.” When a smile tugged at Juliette’s lips, Willamina continued. “Pray tell me you are not about to have another fit?” At a shake of her head, the elderly woman smiled. “Good, now tell me what is allowing my dear granddaughter to finally give me a proper smile?”
Placing everything back into the envelope and slipping it and the letter into her reticule, Juliette did her best to explain the thought that had jumped into her head at the sight of the money.
“Gram, if you think about it, couldn’t the money placed in a dowry be considered in a different way? Funds are transferred from one man to another, to buy what? If one is honest, a woman is being purchased and with that exchange, all of her possessions are transferred to his hands. Far more importantly, every inch of her body becomes his property to do with as he wishes.” The smile broadened as she allowed her thoughts to go further.
“In all honesty, women actually pay for the privilege of giving all they own to a man. If a whore is defined as a woman exchanging her sexual favors for money, then every woman snubbing me now is a harlot. The only difference I see is that there are no games played in a bordello. No, it is an honest exchange when coin goes from the men to the women at the Palace. And, the women who choose that life need not pretend to be too ‘good’ to enjoy sex or too demure to actually enjoy finding contentment in pleasuring a man. Being paid for their services seems a great deal more honest than what the women of high society do in teasing and denying prospective husbands what they’d only give and give with protests of indecency once a ring had been placed on their finger.” Glancing up, she shook her head. “Perhaps that isn’t proper to think, but… well, it just seems right. Am I so horrid for thinking so?”
“You couldn’t be horrid if you tried, my dear. I believe that your abil
ity to see things clearly and in a different perspective will suit you well.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Gram. You’ve taught me so much in such a short time. I can only imagine how my life would have been different if my mother had lived. I’m so sorry that…”
“If you are sorry, child, be sorry only for the fact that God took her too soon. Never, ever be sorry that God chose to give you life. Remember, you promised not to regret those things you can not change. From this point forward, you will only regret those chances you don’t take. You are a wonderful, intelligent, and loving woman. You remind me so much of your mother.” Lost in a memory, it took a few moments for Willamina to continue. “Love is a powerful thing that unites two people as it should but it was not meant to destroy once it is gone. Love should be passed on and shared. It should reach those who need it the most for they will treasure the gift. Forgiveness is another gift and one day I hope you can forgive your father. He is not the man he was when he wed my girl.”
They rode in silence, each lost in their thoughts of the past and the future. As the road became more crowded with carriages and wagons all moving towards the wharf, Juliette sat forward. She gasped as the window was gradually filled with nothing but the view of a ship tied at the dock.
“Gram, it’s beautiful and huge,” she exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat. “How will we ever find our way?”
“Child, I promise you will find your way both around the ship as well as whatever path you set your feet upon once we arrive in America. Are you ready?”
Grasping both of her grandmother’s hands, Juliette leaned forward and pressed a kiss upon her wrinkled cheek. “Yes, Gram, I’m ready.”
Chapter Five
Juliette pulled her cloak a bit tighter, finally grateful for the winds that never seemed to cease. They provided a cooling touch to her heated cheeks but were doing absolutely nothing to relieve the heat that suffused the rest of her body. They’d been aboard the Bonneville for weeks and she’d learned a great deal. However, what she’d just witnessed brought back memories she’d been attempting to forget.
***
Despite warnings from Captain Hewitt and his staff, she’d spent most of her time exploring the vessel, a bit shocked at the differences one discovered if venturing below decks. While those in first class promenaded about the upper decks as if they were the paths of parks they’d left behind, less affluent passengers walked down narrow corridors or gathered at the back of the ship to take much needed fresh air.
Though a bit suspicious of the genteel lady among them, Juliette’s nonjudgmental attitude and her ease in speaking with others, allowed her inclusion in the simple activities that made the weeks at sea endurable. It had been delightful the night she was shown how to dance an Irish jig as well as learning a rather risqué ditty that she’d sung with gusto, endearing her further with her travel companions. She’d played with children and talked with their mothers; discovering immigration was a dream they and their husbands had pursued for years. Her interest had been piqued when she spoke with a group of men who were excited about the news of gold being discovered in California. She’d listened raptly as the men told of how they expected to discover untold riches waiting to be found by those men willing to work hard to pull the precious metal from the earth. She’d laughed and kindly rejected the offer of marriage from three of the men stating she knew nothing about mining. Her face had heated when one had laughed and guaranteed that he’d have no problem with her lack of knowledge as he was quite positive she had far more valuable skills to offer a lonely man.
Her assurance that such a handsome group of men would have no trouble finding women to wed had the men both laughing and shaking their heads.
“You don’t know much about the west, do you, Miss?” one had asked.
“I don’t suppose I do,” Juliette admitted. “I’m not even sure where exactly California is located.”
“As far west as you can go before falling into the Pacific. It is not a place for ladies such as yourself. The coast is just now becoming settled with the opening of the Oregon trail.” She’d drunk in the lesson, learning how men took their families west in covered wagons to start life anew. Despite the difficulties, she could easily understand the draw of a fresh beginning.
Explaining that she was going to New Orleans, she wished the men the best of luck in both wealth and women and teased that she’d peruse the papers every day and look for their names to be listed among the nouveau riche. She’d enjoyed her visits, finding these people far more honest and fun than those who joined her and her grandmother daily in the dining room for their meals. She found poker far more exciting than bridge and listening to stories about how these people had worked and saved for years to pay for their passage had her feeling a bit guilty that she’d lived a life of ease without ever having to work.
***
Standing at the rail, she looked out across the ocean. She didn’t see a single white-cap or the dolphins breaking the surface of the waves as they played in the ship’s wake. Instead, her mind replayed the scene she’d unwittingly come across and, rather to her shame, had unabashedly stayed to witness.
It was growing late as she’d left the Miller family. Their three children had been delighted with the small cakes she’d saved from tea. Thinking of the amount of food that she’d seen left on trays in the dining rooms every day, she’d made a point of sharing what she could without making it seem like charity. These people were proud and she had no wish to offend them.
She’d discovered a corridor she’d yet to explore after seeing a door swinging to and fro. Having listened to Captain Hewitt explain the importance of keeping corridors clear and doors closed to keep any flooding or fire contained and any necessary escape route unimpeded by clutter, she walked towards the door, intending to latch it closed. Curiosity drew her across the threshold. She did latch the door but not from the exterior. The corridor was dim, lit only by a few scattered wall sconces. It was narrower than any other she’d traversed, her hands easily able to slide along opposite walls, providing a way to maintain her balance as the ship dipped into a swell.
There were no doors closing off the rooms. Instead, openings were concealed with dingy lengths of fabric hanging from rods, mimicking curtains at a tall window. One door had the muslin pushed to one side and she peeked into the room. It was a quick glance but enough to see that the room was smaller than her dressing room at home. There was no room to walk about as the bed was only a few steps away from the door. The cot was nothing like the bed she was sleeping in every night. Instead of a thick duvet and plump pillows, the narrow cot was covered with a brown spread, the pillow nothing more than a slight lump at the head of the bed. A straight back chair sat against one wall opposite a small cabinet. Pegs held clothing and at the sight of the trousers and shirts hanging, she realized she must have found the home of one of the many men she’d seen working about the ship.
The sound of a moan had her pulling her head from the room and looking down the corridor. Was someone hurt? Should she go and find the doctor? Having met the man at dinner, she was sure he’d not hesitate to provide assistance but perhaps she should make sure his services were actually needed before interrupting the physician’s evening. Additional sounds drew her past two more doorways until she stopped abruptly at sounds she’d not expected to encounter and a sight she’d not ever expected to see. Knowing she should turn and return above deck, she didn’t make a single movement. The cloth against the doorway was not fully open nor was it fully closed. Though she could not see the entire room, she could certainly see enough.
“God, you’re so tight,” a man said. “Are you sure you’ve had a cock here before?”
Another voice chuckled. “Shit, she can’t answer with my cock down her throat. Want to trade places? I’m sure I wouldn’t have a problem filling her.”
“Shut up,” the first man growled. “I won the toss and I’ll be the one doing the buggering.”
Not fully
understanding what the words meant, Juliette instantly understood how shocked the dinner guests must have been that night when she’d been discovered in the parlor. What they had seen, what they had imagined she’d done was nothing compared to what the three occupants were managing even with the dips and shifts of the ship. A naughty, wicked thought crossed her mind as she watched the scene. It required learning balance when walking on a ship’s rolling decks. What these three were doing required an entirely different talent to avoid being thrown apart and unseated with every swell of the sea.
The woman was on her hands and knees on a narrow cot, a sailor at opposite ends of the bed. It seemed neither man had found it necessary to remove a single stitch of their clothing. A simple push of a button from its loop freed their shafts from confinement. In contrast, the woman between them was totally nude. Just as Juliette had been pleasuring Malcolm with her mouth, this woman also had a cock between her lips but she also had a cock between her legs.
“If you don’t loosen up, you’ll not sit easily tomorrow. Push back and let me in before I cum all over your arse instead of inside it!”
The woman’s moan had Juliette’s skin breaking out in goose flesh. When the realization of exactly where the man was attempting to take the woman hit her, she felt her stomach flip and her cheeks heat. When the man slapped his palm against the woman’s right buttock, Juliette felt heat streak south to settle in her sex.
“That’s right, spank her!” the man pushing in and out of her lips encouraged. “That one swat had her swallowing another inch. Do it again. She’s got several inches to go.”
“You better hope she doesn’t bite,” his partner quipped, lifting his palm and giving another swat, the sound like a gunshot in the small room. A high pitched squeal issued from the woman but Juliette saw her lips moving lower on the man’s shaft accepting more even as she wiggled her bottom as if attempting to throw off the man’s aim.
