No One Notices the Hired Help

"I know the place," Dylan said. "Please, let me help you. I'll talk to my ma, and..."

"Isn't it your job to help her?"

"Well," Dylan said, "I might be leaving tomorrow." Once he'd said it, his own troubles came flooding back; but Relly didn't need to hear about all that.

"Might be?"

So Dylan told her his own sad story, which suddenly didn't seem quite so horrible. By the time he'd finished, Relly was down to her last swallow of wine. To his great surprise, she was smiling as she set the glass down.

"Dylan, it's my turn to help you," she said.

The morning sun was dazzling out on the water as Agnes poured Troy's coffee. "I sure look forward to being able to pour my own again," Troy told Portia, gesturing at his lame arm and not acknowledging Agnes at all.

"Oh, don't be absurd, Troy," Portia said. "You'll be the man of the house! You'll never have to pour your own coffee. Alice here has always done a fine job for Celestine; she'll do the same for you."

"That's Agnes, m'lady," Agnes corrected her.

"That's what I said, Alice!" Portia said. "You've been here long enough to understand my accent, dear. Incidentally, you have brought Celestine her breakfast in her room, haven't you? And I trust you remembered to lock her in again?"

"I knew my orders." Agnes couldn't resist a smirk at Jameson, who stood bolt upright just inside the door, looking even more uptight than usual. She had no fear of Portia spotting her; in all her years of employment, the lady of the house had never looked at her except to scold her or order her about. And neither of those was to happen while she was fawning over Troy.

"I am most pleased to hear that," Portia said; sure enough, she looked only at Troy as she said it. "Father Burns owes me a couple of favours," she told him. "I am confident I can have you married by the week-end, and then that fool Dylan can harass your wife at his own risk."

"I should like to see him try," Troy agreed. "I do not suppose you have looked in on the poor girl --" His voice broke off as the doorbell rang out through the ground floor. "Well, who could that be this early in the morning?" he asked.

"Probably some silly business matter I'll have to sign off on," Portia said as Jameson stepped out to answer the door. "And no, I have not been back to look in on Celestine. I am entirely too disgusted to bother with her for the time being. I am quite content to let her stew up there until we can get Father Burns here."

Neither of them was nonplussed when Jameson returned with two police officers in tow. "Good morning," Portia said, standing up to greet them. "How may I help you gentlemen?"

"Ma'am, I'm afraid we've got a warrant for Mr. Russell's arrest."

"Arrest?" Troy leapt to his feet now as if to fight. Portia touched his good arm to calm him, but when he turned to look at her he saw his own fear reflected in her eyes.

"We've got credible reports you were involved in a gun fight yesterday, sir," one of them said.

Troy gasped. "Well, I..."

"Troy, not a word!" Portia said. "I'm coming with you, and we'll have this sorted out by lunchtime." As she had no choice but to stand back and watch the officers handcuff Troy, she turned to Jameson and snapped, "My day coat, please, and send word to Mr. Walker's office to meet us at the police station."

"Naturally, my lady," Jameson said, and he was off down the hall as the officers led a shocked Troy to the front door.

As soon as the door had shut behind them, Agnes ran out of the room and up the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her.

Dylan had struggled to get to sleep the night before. For all Relly's reassurances that Celestine would be on the docks, he hadn't felt sure at all. But that wasn't all that had kept him awake into the wee hours. He'd also wondered how he would ever explain to his mother why she had arrived home to find Relly sleeping on their couch.

He needn't have worried, as he discovered when he awoke to both women flanking his bed, shaking one shoulder each. "Dylan! Wake up, Dylan!"

He took one look at each of them, and panicked and sat bolt upright. "Ma, I can explain!"

Lorelei laughed. "Relax, honey, Aurelia has told me everything, and I'll be delighted to take her on at the store. But you've got to get dressed and get down to the docks!"

"You're sure Celestine will be there?" he asked Aurelia.

"I'd bet the farm on it," Aurelia said. "Believe me, she won't want to be anywhere near her mother after today!"

"Come on, Aurelia," Lorelei said. "Let's get you some breakfast, and let him get dressed."

Now that one crisis was averted, Dylan had no trouble getting dressed hastily. He had, like Celestine, gathered together all the belongings he planned to take, but he'd had no need to hide them. With one last look at the bedroom he'd called his own for twenty years, he threw his sack over his shoulder and stepped out to find his mother and Relly drinking coffee in the kitchen.

Lorelei had something clutched in her hand, and she held it out to him. "Dylan, I want you to take this -- no arguments." She opened her fist to reveal her most prized possession: his late father's pocket watch.

"Ma, I couldn't!" Dylan said. "That's yours, and I know what it means to you!"

"Exactly," Lorelei said. "You can give it back to me when I join you in Polerma." Then she grinned. "If you don't miss the boat with your long goodbye!"

"Right." Dylan nodded and smiled, and took the watch. "Thank you!" He hugged her goodbye.

She returned the embrace, and then said, "Right, enough of that. I'll be seeing you soon, and give Celestine my love. Now, I've got to go open the store." She grabbed her keys up from the table, and with a whirl of skirts she was out the door without another look at her son.

"Relly, how can I thank you?" Dylan asked his old friend.

"Do you really need to ask, silly?" she replied. "Haven't you just got me a respectable job? Besides, I owed you! And Celestine!"

"Owed us what?"

"All those years at school, Dylan, I heard every hurtful word under the sun. She's fat, she's poor, and so much worse. But never from the two of you. You always treated me with respect when hardly anyone else did."

"You didn't owe us anything for that!" Dylan said.

"Well, you don't owe me a thing either," she said, opening her arms for a goodbye hug. As he welcomed her embrace, she added, "But I do wish you'd let me give you that freebie last night."

"I'd never have explained it to Celestine."

"I know," Relly admitted. "But maybe she'd have appreciated you learning your way around a woman's body?"

"I'd be lying to say I didn't always wonder what your breasts felt like," Dylan admitted with a guilty laugh.

Relly pulled her blouse up. "Have at, Dylan, I insist! Just make it fast!"

They were just as delightfully heavy and supple as he had always imagined, and her nipples were plump and felt lovely on his tongue as he kissed them one by one. Relly sighed with pleasure as he did.

With a final caress with both hands, he stood back up. "Thanks, Relly." He kissed her cheek, and she opened the door for him.

Dylan remembered his manners well enough to say hello to everyone he passed in the streets who knew him. Somehow he couldn't quite believe they didn't all know it would be the last time they saw him; but then, he still wasn't yet sure it really would be. Relly had seemed ever so sure of herself, but her story seemed so unlikely...

He had no choice but to run past Celestine's house on the way to the docks, but at least there was no sign of Portia or Troy as he rushed past on the far side of the street. Down the block, he chanced a hopeful look at the restaurant -- could Celestine be in there?

To his surprise, no one was there. Hanging on the door was a sign: "CLOSED for a personal emergency". That stopped Dylan in his tracks -- he'd never heard of Portia letting anything close the restaurant, not even the loss of her husband years before. But he had four blocks yet to run.

A bigger surprise awaited him at the end of those four blocks. Parked on the edge of the road by the dock was Celestine's carriage. Suspecting some sort of trick, Dylan looked behind him, half expecting to see Troy pointing that gun at him again. But no one was there.

Dylan stepped gingerly up the street, angling for the quickest path onto the dock just beyond the carriage, where the ship was at anchor. If Troy was in there, there were too many witnesses for him to accost Dylan if he was quick enough, and wouldn't he be just as glad to see him off to Polerma anyway?

Nevertheless, his heart caught in his throat when he saw the carriage door open when he was too close by to evade detection. And all at once his apprehension evaporated when Celestine stepped out, carrying her shoulder bag.

"She was right!" Dylan was still disbelieving as he said it.

"Relly? Yes, she was!" Celestine leapt into his arms and kissed him. "I'm so sorry I couldn't let you know I was there when you came over last night, but there was no way without letting Mother and Troy know!"

"Speaking of which, m'lady," said Agnes, who had stepped out of the carriage behind her, "We'd best get you two on board. Who knows how long they'll be at the police station?"

"The police station?" Dylan repeated.

"I'll explain everything on the ship," Celestine said, taking Dylan's hand. "She's right, the sooner we're settled, the better." She looked past Agnes to see Jameson clumsily pulling her trunk out of the storage space in the undercarriage. "Hurry up, Jameson," she ordered.

"Yes, of course," Jameson muttered in a tone Dylan had never heard before. Though utterly mystified, he wanted to laugh for joy.

True to her promise, Lorelei had arranged for the captain to provide them with tickets and a receipt for the money she had given him. "I've got it locked in my quarters," he said as he welcomed them aboard. "You'll get it as soon as we dock in Polerma." Dylan watched as two porters took the trunk from Jameson, who turned to walk back down the gangplank without another look at them. Down on the dock, Agnes was waving them goodbye, and they both responded in kind before being led to their cabin.

"Just what happened last night?" Dylan demanded, not unkindly, as soon as they were alone.

"I'll tell you all I know in just a bit," Celestine said. With a wicked grin, she added, "But there's something else I think we ought to do first!"

When they retired to their cabin, it promptly became clear that neither of them would be in shape to do what Celestine had in mind for the moment. Even with the ship at anchor, the rocking had them feeling uneasy. Tempting as it was to return to the deck in case they were ill, they dared not go outside where they might be visible from the docks. Surely the captain wouldn't admit any knowledge of their presence should Portia or Troy accost him on the deck -- they were both sure of that, but neither dared voice their confidence of it. So Dylan joined Celestine on the narrow cot and more than willingly enfolded her in his arms, and they were silent for the final moments in their hometown. It was a loving but uneasy silence, and both wondered if the stirring in their bellies was not due only to the rocking of the boat.

They both heaved an audible sigh of relief when the ship weighed anchor, which quickly turned into a laugh and a passionate kiss, worth every moment Celestine had waited for it. But now that it was safe to do so, they both felt the need to go topside. Their seasickness was at least tempered by the wonderful sight of Candover disappearing over the horizon, a relief that even made the sailors' subtle laughter bearable.

When they were both feeling better, Celestine settled herself on the foredeck to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine and bade Dylan snuggle up beside her. "Now, am I ever to know just what happened last night?" he asked.

"We've an invitation to join the captain for supper, and then I insist we seal the deal on our new life!" she said with a playful grin.

Dylan did not argue, for he did not relish kissing his beloved with the lingering taste of his seasickness still in his throat, and he rather suspected the same was true of Celestine. So they more than willingly waited out the afternoon in the dazzling sunlight in the comfort of one another's arms, until a deckhand invited them to the captain's table.

A merry round of wine and better-than-they-expected meat later, Celestine's heart was pounding and her panties were drenched as she sat on the edge of the cot and watched Dylan lock their cabin door.

"There were so many days at the Green Lake I wanted so much to touch you all over the place..." Dylan said with a shy grin.

"And you'd have been more than welcome to do it!"

"If only I hadn't been so terrified..."

"There is nothing to be terrified of now!" Celestine stood up and threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately. Even before their lips had parted, she was hard at work on unbuttoning his shirt. She was all set to order him to help her off with her clothes as well, only to realize just in time that she felt her skirt being gathered up.

Those afternoons at the Green Lake meant there was no awkwardness whatsoever as Dylan pulled her dress away or as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. Though he did not relieve her of her brassiere right away, Celestine found his first caresses on her still-bound breasts utterly satisfying -- how many times had she longed for this? His fingers were as gentle as the satin they were rubbing through, almost ticklish but not quite.

Celestine let him play with her breasts for a lovely moment, then helped herself to his belt buckle and kissed him gently as she unbuckled it. At last she felt him slide his hands around her back to unclasp her brassiere. She pulled back from his lips just long enough to let him pull it away. "Lovely," she said. "Nothing like getting that off."

"You like that, do you?" Dylan asked.

"I'll expect you to do it every night when we're home to stay," she ordered with a smile as she welcomed his first touch on her bare breasts. "Oh, my, yes, more of that!" she added as he teased her nipples with his thumbs. The library book had said some women could orgasm from having their breasts played with alone, and Celestine had ever since wondered if she mightn't be one of them.

Evidently not, she realized as Dylan's caresses felt wonderful but did nothing to quench the growing hunger between her thighs. She eagerly pushed his short pants down to reveal his own hunger was just as intense, and she gave him a taste of relief with a playful squeeze. "Onhhhh," he said, closing his eyes and pausing his caresses with her breasts still clutched gently in his hands. "So good!"

"And that's just a taste!" She threw her arms around him and they shared their longest kiss yet, and just as she had hoped, she felt him pulling her sopping panties down. As soon as they had fallen to her ankles, she kicked them off and spread her legs, and guided his right hand into her bush.

As he slipped his finger inside her, all the clinical terms Celestine had read about her body in that book vanished from her mind. None of that mattered now; what did matter was his delightful touch on her inner flesh. The book had said a lot about indescribable sensations. That much was right! "Ohhhh, feels so good!" she squealed, returning the favour on his hardness.

"Can you come from this?" he asked.

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" she replied breathlessly.

Presently Dylan found her clitoris with his thumb, erasing any lingering concerns Celestine may have had about him knowing his way around a woman's body. She threw her head back and moaned with joy, which only intensified when he leaned in and kissed and nibbled her neck, still stroking away in and around her vagina. "Oh, do it, do it," she whispered in rhythm, closing her eyes to savour the sensation completely.

Presently they both learned Celestine could indeed come from Dylan's fingers alone. "Yeeeess!" she shrieked with joy, loudly enough to worry for a moment that she may have been overheard in the next cabin once she returned to her senses. "I hope no one's trying to sleep this early!" she giggled as Dylan's fingers came to a stop; she clutched his hand to prevent him from removing it just yet.

"Me too," Dylan said. "But they must have known what they'd get with us on board!"

Celestine laughed and kissed him again, and at last let his hand out of her pussy and lay back on the cot. "Your turn," she said.

"Mine only?" Dylan quipped. "Don't expect me to believe you won't enjoy this too!"

"That goes without saying, doesn't it?" she asked as he settled himself on top of her; she lost no time in grasping his penis gently and guiding it in. "Ohhhhhhmygod!" she exclaimed at the sensation of enveloping her true love within her for the first time.

"Is that all you imagined?" he asked.

"Better!"

"I agree."

There were no more words, or at least no more articulate words, for the time being, as Dylan's first slow, loving thrust brought on a cathartic moan of joy from Celestine. Now she did recall the book and all it had to say about the noise a woman made during an encounter. She hadn't believed it -- no matter how she loved Dylan, she was not that sort of lady -- but now she did. As Dylan's lovely body hovered just above her and thrusted again and again inside her, Celestine realized she couldn't have held her tongue if there'd been a knife at her throat. Nor, she saw just as quickly, did she have any desire to try to keep quiet, for she could see in Dylan's eyes how thrilling her responses were to him.

"Gonna come again!" Celestine felt the words coming and couldn't stop them, though once again she had no desire to. "Oh, oh, oh..." Each was more intense than the last, but the climactic one died in her throat as she threw her arms around Dylan and held on for dear life as her orgasm washed over her.

Dylan hugged her back but didn't stop pushing, to her delight. "That's beautiful!" he managed to say between gasps as he continued flailing away.

"Now you!" Celestine was deliriously happy and wanted to share it, and she was dying to see and hear Dylan's big moment. She slapped his backside playfully to egg him on, and he picked up the pace yet again. "I know you're close!"

"I am!" He gazed deep into her contented eyes as he flailed at her as fast as he could go.

Celestine took his face in her hands and kissed him hard, until she heard the eruption in his throat and felt him come to a stop buried deep inside her. His exclamation as he came was just as deliciously guttural as hers had been, and her heart nearly burst as she watched his eyes grow wide, still fixated on her.

"Oh, Dylan, that's beautiful," she whispered.

"It felt as good as it looked!" he said, catching his breath at last and laying his head on her shoulder, making no effort to pull out just yet.

Celestine closed her legs tightly around him, lest he get any such ideas. "I love you, Dylan," she cooed, stroking his hair.

"I love you too," he said. Then he chuckled. "Is it too soon to ask just what happened last night?"

"I'm honestly not sure if I know everything either," Celestine said. "What I do know is, Mother came barging into my room and figured out that I was planning on leaving -- she did not know where, if you're wondering."

"I was," Dylan said. "She said she knew what we had planned."

"And she told Troy she didn't really as soon as you were gone," Celestine said. "That much I heard from Agnes later on."

"Where were you?" Dylan asked. "Not in your room, I know."

"Climbed the tree, did you?" Celestine asked. Dylan gave an affirmative mumble and resumed caressing her left breast, and she went on. "Oh, keep that up! And no, I wasn't in my room. By that time, Agnes had come by with my dinner. You know how Agnes knew all about what an absolute terror Mother could be, and how she always said 'If there's anything I can do, just ask.' Well, this time when she said it, I said, 'There is.' And I told her all about what we were planning and said I needed a way out of the house without Mother knowing. She said leave it with her, and in the mean-time I could join her in the servants' quarters for the night. So as soon as I'd finished my dinner, I snuck off down the hall to her room."