by Maggie Ryan
“Sure, but only for a while,” Ophelia said as Juliette paid the bill. “As much as we love having you visit; you need to be home before dusk.” When Juliette opened her mouth to protest, Ophelia shook her head. “I’m serious. You don’t know the type of people who come out with the sun’s setting. I’m not talking about our clients, I’m talking about people who wouldn’t care if you were the Queen of England if they thought they’d be able to separate you from that necklace, bracelet, rings or ear bobs, and that doesn’t even count whatever money you have in your reticule.”
Juliette wasn’t ignorant and knew enough to trust those with true knowledge of their surroundings. “I’ll leave when you say,” she promised. With her agreement, the three walked a few blocks and entered a bar.
“I can just see my father’s face now,” Juliette quipped. “His daughter in a bar accompanied by friends and not some disapproving chaperone!” She learned that listening wasn’t free and ordered three rum punches. “Whoa, this definitely isn’t wine,” she said after taking her first sip. After her third gulp, she announced it was delicious. When the musicians announced they were taking a dinner break, Ophelia suggested it was time for her to head home.
They’d walked a block when Juliette paused, cocking her head as music drifted on the air. “It’s beautiful,” Juliette said. “So much livelier than what I listened to at home.” As the piece ended and another began, she added, “Now that sounds both beautiful and sad. It reminds me of the songs Nettie sings. Come on, it’s still early. We’ve got time to listen for a bit.”
They listened to the quartet play for an hour, enjoying glasses of rum punch that had Juliette’s head buzzing a bit. When she stood up, waving her hand in an attempt to order another, Ophelia shook her head and pulled her back down into her seat.
“No, you are a light weight. Besides…”
“What are you doing here?”
Juliette looked up, squinting a bit to focus on the woman—a very tall, very buxom, angry appearing woman standing in front of their table.
“Par…” She giggled when another hiccup erupted before she was able to say, “Pardon?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” the woman said, giving her a sneer. “I’m talking to these two bitches. This is my house.”
“You live in a bar?” Juliette asked, her head turning to look around before she gave a little moan at the movement.
“No need to be rude,” Ophelia said. “We were just enjoying the music.”
“You’ve enjoyed it enough. None of us appreciate you trying to snatch our customers…”
“I’m a cuss… a-a customer,” Juliette stuttered, lifting her glass. Seeing that the woman had moved her hands to her hips and had bent over to hiss at Ophelia, Juliette gave a little giggle. “Um, your… your… um, assets are showing.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? What did you say about my ass?” the woman turned her head towards her.
“Ohhh, thas a naug… naughty word,” Juliette said and then giggled. “Not ass… ass… assets.” Shaking her head, she lifted her hand and pointed. “Wow, you got some really big nipples!”
Looking down, the woman slowly looked back up, not making an attempt to pull up the bodice of her dress to cover her nipples. “Customers you say? Well, it’ll cost you a penny to suckle and two bits to feast.”
“Waa…”
“Come on, Jules, we’re leaving,” Amelia said, standing and taking Juliette’s arm.
“Feast? Maysbe I should eat sumpin’… I feel kinda funny.”
“She didn’t mean food,” Ophelia said. “It’s getting late. You need to get home.” Taking her other arm, the two women pulled her from her chair.
“Hey, she’s a big girl, let her…”
“Get out of our way, Mavis. We’re leaving.”
Ophelia didn’t wait; she shoved past the larger woman. Once outside, it became clear that three glasses of punch were two too many for Juliette. “Willamina is going to kill her,” Ophelia said.
“Who gets drunk off watered down rum?” Amelia asked, having to adjust her hold when Juliette’s feet crossed over each other and she stumbled.
“Evidently an English lady who hasn’t drunk anything but wine before,” Ophelia answered. Once they’d reached the end of the block and turned the corner, she stopped walking, having to give Juliette a little jerk when she attempted to keep going. “Look, one of us is going to have to take her home.”
“I’ve got clients lined up to start in an hour,” Amelia said, “and you’ve got that card player to look after.”
“Hell, and he always tips well,” Ophelia said. “It’ll take at least that long to get her home and get back. We can’t just put her on the bus, she’ll not know when to get off and transfer.”
“Is ‘kay,” Juliette said, “jus let me swe… swee… nap.”
“I’ll take her. You can explain to Chester that I’ll be back as soon as I can. Tell him I’ll make it up to him.”
“Okay, but you better hope Willamina isn’t pissed.”
“God, I hope Jules is sober by then,” Ophelia said as they began to walk again. The two women shook their heads when Juliette began to hum. It was quite difficult to keep her upright, especially when she apparently decided she needed to dance to the tune she began to sing, the words slurred and broken by the occasional hiccup.
“Oh, shit,” Amelia said as they turned the corner to see the bus halfway down the street. “When’s the next one?”
“I don’t know,” Ophelia answered, her shoulder beginning to ache from the constant necessity to keep Juliette from falling.
“Maybe we should just take her back to the room. She can sleep it off…”
“Do you want to be the one to explain to Lady Forrester why her granddaughter didn’t come home? Or, worse, have to explain to some copper that we didn’t kidnap a Lady but were just trying to help?”
“Well, no, but…”
“New plan,” Ophelia said when she heard a familiar sound. “Keep her on her feet. I’ll be right back.” Propping Juliette against the side of the building with Amelia awkwardly bracing her, Ophelia dashed down the street and disappeared around the corner. She began waving her arms and calling out when the carriage she’d heard started to pull away after dislodging its passenger. “Damn it!” she cursed as the conveyance failed to stop and stood watching as it turned the next corner. She walked back the way she’d come, ignoring a few calls from men who were beginning to fill the street. They’d just have to pray the next omnibus came soon.
She began to sprint again when she saw a carriage stopping. “No! Wait!” she yelled when she realized Amelia was waving one hand as if stating she didn’t wish to hire the carriage. She yelled again when the driver began to climb back onto his seat, catching his attention. Panting from exertion, she came to a stop. “Thank God! We need to go to Decatur Street.”
The driver’s eyebrows rose as he turned and looked at the three women. “I usually bring customers from the Quarter, not deliver their… ladies to it.”
“Consider this a new experience then. Our friend is ill and we need to get her home as quickly as we can,” Ophelia said. “And if you’re wondering, yes, I can pay your fare.”
“It’ll cost extra if she gets sick in my carriage.”
“Fine, get us there quickly and I’ll give you a nice tip.” With his nod, she and Amelia helped Juliette to the carriage. She prayed her friend was too far gone to remember the push the stranger gave to her backside when she began to topple backwards out of the carriage. Giving him the street address, she climbed in beside Juliette to keep her from tumbling off the seat.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said to Amelia.
“Okay,” Amelia said and then giggled. “Forget Willamina, you just better hope you don’t run into Nettie!”
“Shes gots a sp…spoon!” Juliette said before dropping her head on Ophelia’s shoulder. Within moments, she was asleep, soft little snores causing Opheli
a to shake her head.
Chapter Nine
Ophelia couldn’t help but wonder what Willamina would think about her granddaughter’s story. She, for one, wished she could turn back the clock. If she’d never given Juliette the address, she wouldn’t be trying to ignore the carriage driver’s looks of amusement or trying to keep her friend from falling to the ground.
“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I trust you aren’t going to drive off?”
“I said I’d wait,” the man said. “Besides, I can’t wait to see this Nettie person. Here, give her to me before I’m hauling you both out of the dirt.””
Ophelia didn’t protest as he lifted Juliette into his arms. She was exhausted and hadn’t yet begun to work. Besides, having to explain the indignity of Juliette being carried in some strange man’s arms had to be easier than explaining why she needed to be carried in the first place.
“Get the door.”
Rapping softly on the door, Ophelia thanked him.
“So, I’m guessing you’re sneaking home?”
“Why would you say that?” Ophelia said, looking back at him. “My friend is just feeling a little ill.”
“Sure she is. Knock harder. I don’t want her to get sick all over me.”
Even though she’d decided she’d rather face an angry cook than a disappointed Lady Forrester, she was unprepared when the door opened before her knuckles could rap against the wood again. Suddenly she couldn’t think of a single word to say. Obviously, the driver didn’t have the same problem.
“Do these girls belong here?” he asked.
“Yes, they’re mine. What in the world? What happened to my child?”
“Well, we were…”
The driver interrupted her. “Is there somewhere I can put her down?”
“Follow me,” Nettie said.
Pushing past Ophelia, he followed Nettie as she opened a door off the kitchen. “Put Miss Juliette on my bed and then you go fetch up the doctor. Miss Ophelia, you run get Lady Forrester. She’s upstairs in her room.”
“I’m sure Jules will be fine after she… um, gets some sleep. There’s no need to fetch the doctor and perhaps it would be best not to bother Lady Forrester…”
“Bother me with what? Oh, what’s wrong with my granddaughter?”
Nettie reared back from where she’d bent down to look at Juliette’s face. “Laws, this child ain’t ill. She’s drunk! Where’s my spoon?”
“Spoon!”
Cringing a bit at the giggle heard from her friend, Ophelia began to explain. “We didn’t know how hard the punch would hit her. We all drank the same amount and we did eat…”
“Pussy!”
The screeched word had all of them looking towards the bed to see Juliette’s eyes open. She was struggling to sit. “Feast… pussy… thas wha she… oh, I-I…”
Nettie managed to grab a wastebasket as the driver leaped forward and helped Juliette to sit up just in time as she instantly began to bring up the contents of her stomach. Ophelia could feel her face burning and Willamina’s eyes moving between the miscreants. Suddenly she felt like a naughty girl and had to force herself not to put her hands behind her to protect her backside.
“I can explain…”
“I can hardly wait,” Willamina said. “However, perhaps we should wait to discuss this when my granddaughter isn’t inebriated. I shall expect you and Amelia for lunch tomorrow. Nettie has just made a large pot of her gumbo.”
With the sound of further retching, Ophelia said they’d be there, grabbed the driver’s arm and dragged him from the room and out of the house.
“Some little girls are in big trouble,” he said, chuckling as she continued to tug him towards the carriage he’d left in the alley.
“Don’t make jokes,” she said as she climbed inside. “Hell, I’d rather face a pissed off alligator than either one of those women!”
“Don’t forget, you’ve promised me a tip and I don’t mean from that pouch you’ve got tied to your thigh.”
“Help me escape the luncheon invitation and I’ll make sure you see stars.”
“I believe it was a demand for your presence, though very nicely spoken,” he said. “I think I’d rather be a fly on the wall tomorrow. It’s never a good idea to come home drunk as a skunk and especially not when a spoon is involved.” His chuckle became full blown laughter when she moaned and slammed the door.
***
Climbing onto the seat and picking up the reins, John Harrison grinned. He’d have escorted the two women home for free. He wasn’t a man to ignore anyone in distress, especially a pair of beautiful women. Of course, he also wasn’t a man to deny himself of what promised to be quite pleasant either. He drove a lot of men in and out of Storyville and had caught glimpses of the beautiful brunette whose name he’d just learned. Ophelia, now that was a name that rolled off his tongue quite nicely. He felt his cock hardening inside his trousers as he remembered her bending over when she was helping her friend into the carriage. If that woman’s clothing was hiding a bottom anywhere near as ample and soft as the one to which he’d given a helpful shove, it promised to be quite luscious. Remembering the word that Juliette had screeched, his cock jumped and stiffened further. He’d love to hear Ophelia’s moans of ecstasy as he rolled his tongue through her pussy. He was an ass man and couldn’t wait to enjoy his own feast while gripping those plump globes.
He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that the elegant older woman hadn’t so much as flinched when her granddaughter spewed a word he doubted came up in gentle conversation. He grinned remembering how Ophelia had blanched and how her hands had fluttered as if knowing there was indeed naughtiness to atone for. Heck, if neither of the women back at the house spanked her—well, he might not have a spoon, but he sure had hands. And those hands were just itching to redden Ophelia’s bottom and unburden her of guilt.
***
Juliette was standing beside her grandmother to greet their guests, but Ophelia didn’t think she looked much improved over the last time she’d seen her.
“Ladies, thank you for coming,” Willamina said, not seeming to notice that her rather loud greeting had her granddaughter flinching. “Luncheon is ready and it wouldn’t do to keep Nettie waiting.”
The three younger woman looked at each other; Ophelia noticing the others looked as uneasy as she felt, but they obediently followed Willamina into the dining room. Ophelia and Amelia took seats on one side of the table as the others took chairs directly opposite them. Nettie pushed through the door, carefully balancing a tray which held bowls, steam rising from each one.
“You ladies are in for a treat,” Willamina said as bowls were placed before them. “There is no better gumbo in New Orleans.”
Ophelia wondered if the others heard the moan or saw Juliette’s skin begin to look a little green as Nettie approached her chair.
“Oh… thank you, Nettie!” Juliette’s much brighter tone had everyone looking to her. Instead of a bowl, Nettie had set down a plate that contained toast and a blue cup that held an egg. “You are truly my guardian angel!”
Nettie huffed. “Flattery won’t work on me, young lady. You skipped breakfast and need food in your gut to soak up that nasty alcohol.” Picking up Juliette’s spoon and handing it to her, Nettie added, “I expect you to eat every single bite!”
Ophelia wasn’t about to mention that she was pretty sure her friend had rid herself of the rum the night before. Remembering her late night assignation with John, she was very grateful he’d not picked up one of those wooden spoons on his way out of the house the evening before. Of course, he’d had no need as his hands were not only large, they were calloused from handling reins every day. Perhaps a spoon might have been easier to take than his palm. God, he was handsome. He had hair several shades lighter than her own chestnut curls and his skin was tanned from being out in the sun all day. He was a bit over six feet and while not the least bit fat, he was solid. His thighs had been very firm benea
th her last night as he insisted he would take his tip out of her bare bottom. He’d smacked and smacked… Suddenly realizing she actually was hearing the sounds of smacking, she broke out of her daydream and looked up. The source of the noise was more of a tap than a smack as she watched Juliette rap the bowl of her spoon against the shell of her egg to open it.
“Yes, ma’am,” Juliette said, lifting the top and setting it aside. Once she’d done so, she took a tentative bite of the soft boiled egg but was soon eating with gusto. The others dipped into their gumbo and though it was the best Ophelia had ever tasted, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last meal she’d share with Juliette and her grandmother.
“Please, relax,” Willamina said as if reading her mind. “I didn’t ask you to luncheon to scold you. I wanted to extend my gratitude. I shudder when I imagine what might have happened to my granddaughter if you hadn’t taken her into your care.”
“Yes, I need to thank you both,” Juliette said, her color improving with every bite. “I admit the journey home is a bit fuzzy, but I know I wouldn’t have made it home without your help.”
“There’s no need to thank us,” Ophelia said. “If we’d paid more attention…”
“No, it’s my fault. I should have listened to you and left far earlier. I do promise that I’ll never drink rum again! I also want to reimburse you…”
“You don’t need…”
“Please, Ophelia, I know you had to pay fares for the bus and the streetcar… wait, wasn’t there a carriage as well?”
“Yes, we missed the bus and I… well, even if we’d caught it and transferred, I didn’t want you to have to walk the rest of the way home from the stop.”
“You mean you didn’t have the strength to drag her home, don’t you?” Willamina asked.
Giving up any hope that she could paint a prettier picture, Ophelia nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I also needed to get back to work. A carriage seemed like a good solution.”
“It was indeed and that young man was certainly quite helpful as well. I don’t suppose you caught his name? I’d like to offer him a tip for his kindness.”
