Ready To Obey

by Melinda Barron

  The man in front of her was angry. Maisie looked toward the outer door. Aldis was nowhere to be seen.

  “I don’t like being made a fool,” he said. “Take me at my word, I want what I paid for.”

  “You’re the second man to say that tonight,” Maisie said.

  “I’m not one of your customers,” he said. “You and Vanessa took my money, now deliver the relic, or I will have you clapped in irons and thrown in Newgate.”

  Fear shot through her. If this man was a solicitor, there was every chance he could make good on his threats.

  “I am not in league with Vanessa,” she said.

  “Your lies mean nothing to me,” Throckmorton said. “If I don’t hear from her by tomorrow night I will send for the authorities.” He turned toward the door, but didn’t even take one step before he turned back. “Remind her that I know about the party she’s supposed to attend. It won’t be hard to find it and punish her, and not in the way she enjoys.”

  This time he left the bar. Maisie watched him leave, and then she turned her attention toward the customers who up-righted tables and continued to swear about the chaos Vanessa had left in her wake.

  Aldis strode back into the room. From where she stood, Maisie could see the scowl on his face. He shook his head as he made his way toward her. “She ran faster than I could. I lost her.”

  His chest heaved a little, as if from exertion. “Did you speak to him?”

  “He spoke to me,” Maisie said. She told him what he’d said.

  “What party?” he asked.

  “I have no clue,” she said. “Perhaps she and her bored lord, as Mrs. Beale would say, are planning something.”

  “Hell fire and damnation,” Aldis said. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer, just pulled her along behind him. Once they were on the street he said, “What was the man’s name?”

  “Throckmorton,” she said. “Bernard Throckmorton.”

  “Throckmorton!’ Aldis screamed. “I want to talk to you. We are hunting the same enemy. If you can hear me, stop and come back.”

  “Quit making noise,” a woman screamed. “We’re busy.” She giggled and a man groaned.

  Maisie shivered as she thought about what the two of them were dong behind the pub.

  “Throckmorton!”

  “Stop it!” the woman screamed again.

  “His offices are toward the abbey,” someone totally different yelled.

  “Come on,” Aldis said. He didn’t take her arm this time, but he ran toward the abbey. Maisie took off behind him, working hard to keep up. At periodic times, Aldis called Throckmorton’s name. Finally, after her sides hurt so badly Maisie thought she would vomit, Throckmorton answered.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “I want to talk to you about Vanessa Parkinson,” Aldis said. “I believe we have a common enemy.”

  Maisie opened her mouth, but Aldis held up his hand. “She took money from us, for the relic.”

  “That two-timing jezebel,” Throckmorton said. He muttered under his breath for a few moments before he said, “Why should I believe you?”

  “King Henry VIII,” Aldis said. “The casket was taken from Vanessa’s patron.”

  Throckmorton muttered again. “I don’t want to talk here. We’ll go into my offices and have a drink. Follow me.”

  Aldis grabbed for her hand, but Maisie pulled away. “How do you know this isn’t some sort of trap?”

  “Was he angry when you talked with him?”

  Maisie had to agree that he was.

  “Do you think he was faking?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then let’s go before he loses us.”

  A few blocks later he waited for them in front of a door. Once he opened it they all went inside and he lit a lamp.

  “Sit,” he said.

  They did as he asked, taking two seats on a divan. Maisie watched as he poured clear liquid into a glass. Something told her it was more liquor, and she wasn’t sure she should consume any more, considering the amount she already drank.

  But when Throckmorton handed her the glass, she knew if she refused it that somehow he would see it as smug.

  She sniffed it and bit back a sigh. Gin. On top of the ale she knew this wasn’t a good idea, but she didn’t want to cause any problems. She took a drink and almost coughed as the liquid burned its way down her throat.

  Throckmorton threw himself in a chair. “I rue the day I ever let that woman take my cock in her mouth.” He looked at Maisie. “Pardon me, ma’am, but if you are familiar with the likes of her, I’m sure you’ve heard those words before.”

  Maisie just nodded, not sure exactly what to say.

  “How much money did she take from you?” Aldis asked.

  “How much did she take from you?” Throckmorton countered. “I’m still not sure you’re not working with her.”

  “She took ten thousand pounds from me,” Aldis said.

  Throckmorton laughed. “Then she got you for as much as she got me. Hell and damnation, I should have known that just because she was pretty didn’t mean she wasn’t a bitch.”

  Once again he looked at Maisie. “My apologies.”

  “Yes,” Maisie said. She drained her glass in one swift gulp.

  “Careful,” Aldis said.

  “Nonsense, let her get a little tipsy,” Throckmorton said. He got up and refilled her glass. “How do you plan on catching her?”

  “Tell me about the party,” Aldis said. “She didn’t mention it to me.”

  “Some orgy she’s going to in the Cotswolds,” Throckmorton said. He handed Maisie another glass and then sat back down. “I had planned to go with her. Spankings and fuckings galore, hey? Quite fun all around, hey?” He looked at Maisie. “My apologies, ma’am.”

  She took another drink.

  “Did she say where it was?”

  “Some little town called Morton-on-Mare,” he said. “One of her friends was hosting it. She said he promised her a nice, red ass. And, he has the casket.”

  No, she has the casket, Maisie wanted to say. But then a thought occurred to her. She might have the object, but Aldis had the key. What had she said while she’d been searching? She wanted the lock to her key.

  Had she tried to retrieve the key since she’d run, or would she do it tonight?

  “We need to leave,” she said.

  “Not yet,” Aldis said. “Stay in your seat.”

  “But…”

  “Sit down.” He said sternly.

  “You two must be married,” Throckmorton said. He laughed before he continued, “Listen, I knew trying to get the relic was too good to be true, but I’m a greedy bastard. I fully admit it. If the rumors are true it’s the only copy still left.”

  Only copy of what, Maisie wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to disrupt again.

  “Henry and his wives, they caused a lot of trouble for him, just as all women do,” Throckmorton said. “No offense, ma’am.”

  Maisie took another drink. The room seemed to spin.

  “Did she give you a name of the person at Morton-on-Mare?” Aldis asked.

  Maisie noticed he hadn’t touched his gin.

  “No, just that it was in a country home outside the town,” he said. “Listen, I don’t want the item anymore. Maybe the troubles I’m having are divine intervention. Maybe it’s not meant to be owned by a bastard like myself. I just want my funds back.”

  “Or you’ll go to the authorities,” she said. “And have us all put in Newgate.”

  “If need be,” Throckmorton said. “No offense, ma’am, but business is business.”

  This time Maisie did not take a drink.

  “I know who you are, Mr. Cummings,” Throckmorton said. “Vanessa told me all about your little school, and the way you train the ladies. I quite wanted to ask you if you needed another instructor, but I’m afraid if my wife f
ound out she would have me thrown out. All I want is my money. Get it for me and I’ll keep my mouth shut. You have my word.”

  “Thank you,” Aldis said. “I will do my best.”

  He stood and helped Maisie from her chair.

  Throckmorton took her glass and they started toward the door. Once they were in the air, Maisie giggled. “She was playing them both.” She looked up at Aldis. “I believe I’m quite drunk.”

  “I believe you are,” he said.

  “Fancy buying me another drink?” she asked. She leaned toward him. “Did I tell you that you smell nice? Pipe tobacco, right?”

  “I don’t think you need any more to drink,” he said. “We need to go to the house so I can decide what to do.”

  “Take a trip to Morton-on-Mare?” she asked as she pulled away from him and started skipping down the street.

  “I need to do a little reconnaissance work first,” he said. He came up behind her and put his arm around her waist.

  She hiccupped, and then giggled.

  “I’ll go to Morton-on-Mare,” she said. “A party sounds like fun.”

  “This is not the sort of party you’d want to attend,” he said. “Didn’t you hear what Throckmorton said?”

  “Oh yes, spankings and fuckings for all,” she said, and then she giggled again. “Elvin has been dead for almost two years, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been fucked.”

  “Mrs. Glover, you forget yourself,” he said. “We need to get you home and into bed before you’re sick.”

  “I’m not going to be sick,” she said as she once again started to skip.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the stables where I left the horse we rode into town,” he said. “Mrs. Glover, please come back here.”

  But Maisie ran down the street. “It’s a beautiful night. I thought it was going to rain, but it doesn’t seem as if it will. I want to thank you, Mr. Cummings. I’ve had more fun tonight than I think I ever had. Sick… you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She stopped in the middle of the street and then ran back to him. “Why does she like to be spanked? Even after the bored lord had taken a cane to her ass she laughed. She laughed while we were in the room and she searched for the lock to her key.”

  Maisie put her hand in front of her mouth. “Do you think she knows you have the key?”

  “I don’t think she had time to try and dig it up,” he said. He put his arm around her waist and started to propel her down the street.

  “She’s going to be angry,” Maisie said.

  “Good,” Aldis answered.

  They walked slowly now, with Aldis holding her close. Maisie was sure if he left go she would fall to the ground.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said.

  “Which one?” he asked. “You’re more vocal than you have been since we met.”

  “Why do you think she likes to be spanked? It doesn’t make sense.” Maisie almost tripped. Aldis stopped and held her close.

  “I can’t answer that,” he said. “Perhaps it’s the stimulation. Some women like the intense feelings it produces.”

  “I wonder what it feels like,” Maisie said. She pulled away from his arms and stepped in front of him. “Will you spank me?”

  “Right here?” he asked, and Maisie laughed in response.

  “No, silly, when we get to the house,” she said. “I can’t imagine what sort of stimulation would make me laugh like she was doing last night.”

  “Mrs. Glover, you’re drunk,” he said. “When you’re sober you will be embarrassed that we’ve even had this conversation. That is if you remember it. Now, please start walking again before I take you over my shoulder and carry you to the stables.”

  “Spoil sport,” she said. “Is it because I’m not pretty enough? Or dressed like the ladies upstairs? Am I too old? Is it because I’m a widow? Is it because I’m a seamstress?”

  “Mrs. Glover, if you don’t obey me now I will spank you, but not tonight. Tonight you probably will fall asleep as soon as we reach the house. But tomorrow, we’ll talk about the questions you have. If you obey me now. Do you understand?”

  Maisie found she rather enjoyed the commanding tone of his voice.

  “I am ready to obey,” she said, and then she took off down the street at a hard run.

  “Mrs. Glover!”

  Maisie laughed as she continued to run.

  She heard him swear, and then moments later she heard his heavy footsteps running behind her. She stopped in the street and looked back. That’s when he grabbed her around the waist, turned her and tossed her over his shoulder, seemingly in one quick movement.

  He swore again and Maisie giggled. That’s when she started slapping his bottom, “If you won’t spank me, then I’ll spank you,” she said with a laugh,

  “Oh, Mrs. Glover you’ll pay for that, I promise you that.”

  Chapter 7

  When they reached the stables he lowered her to the ground. Maisie grabbed her skirts and twirled around.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Enjoying the moonlight,” she said. She looked up at the orb, which was not quite full.

  “We need to go, Mrs. Glover,” he said. He mounted the horse and held out his hand. “Come on.”

  She grasped his hand and put her foot in the stirrup he’d just vacated. He pulled, she stepped, and promptly fell back onto the ground, hitting her bottom.

  Despite the pain, Maisie burst into laughter.

  “Do I have to come down there and pick you up?” he asked. He waved his hand at her. “Come on, get up and let’s get going.”

  She stood and dusted off her skirts. “Hold on to me better this time.”

  The second attempt was the charm, and Maisie soon found herself seated behind him. She had both legs to his right. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Tally ho!” she yelled as she thrust a fist in the air.

  He chuckled. “Are we going on a fox hunt?”

  “We’re going on a treasure hunt,” she said as the horse started to move. “Is it not the same thing?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “A stolen relic is not a treasure. It is something that needs to be found and returned to its rightful owner.”

  She lay her head on his shoulder. He stiffened, but it didn’t stop her from snuggling into him.

  Maisie giggled. “Don’t you wonder what is in the casket? A book? A piece of jewelry? A map? Did your friend the bored lord tell you? Other than the fact that it belonged to good King Henry VIII.”

  He didn’t respond and she squeezed her arms tighter around his body. “Do you not have an idea?”

  “We are not concerned with what is in the package,” he said. “We just want to recover it, as quickly as possible.”

  “Are we going to Morton-on-Mare?” she asked.

  “We?”

  The horse plodded along and Maisie started to feel dizzy. Maybe she should ask him if she could walk. She dismissed the idea immediately; it would take far too long for her to walk.

  “Yes we,” she said. Maybe if she talked she would feel better. “Throckmorton is threatening us all with prison. If you think I am not taking part in the search for this object you are sorely mistaken.”

  “It is too soon to talk about trips,” he said. “After tomorrow I will have more information, and perhaps we will be able to make a plan then.”

  “Perhaps, maybe, tomorrow,” she sang. The dizziness was still there, but she had the strange idea that if she ignored it, and tried to act normal, it would go away. “I’m going to make a guess. I think it’s jewelry.”

  “As I said, that is none of our business,” he said. He kicked his heels into the horse and it picked up speed. Maisie tightened her grip on him as the horse started to canter.

  As the horse picked up speed her stomach started to roil. She swallowed back the rising bile. “Does she have any friends upstairs we could talk to? You know she and Megan ar
e close.”

  He pulled up on the reins and turned to her. “From the kitchen?”

  “Yes, she sent extra food the night Vanessa was in my room.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  Maisie shrugged. “I wonder what information I can wheedle out of her.”

  “You let me handle her.” He kicked his heels and the horse took off again, moving much faster than before.

  Maisie burped. Her stomach continued its unpleasant journey inside her body.

  “Stop,” she finally said.

  Without questioning her he pulled up on the reins. Maisie slid to the ground and stumbled away.

  “If you are going to lose the contents of your stomach make sure you don’t do it on your shoes,” he said. “I would think a barmaid would be better able to hold her spirits.”

  “I serve alcohol, I don’t drink it,” she said. “Not that often. The last time I felt like this was when Elvin died. I’d forgotten how horrible it is.”

  “But you were so happy just moments ago, twirling and staring up at the moon,” he said.

  “That was before the horse—” She burped again and did just as he’d said she was going to do. She took a deep breath and wished for water to clear out her mouth.

  “Come, we’re not far from the school,” he said. “Can you ride, or should we walk?”

  “Riding will be faster,” she said. Purging her stomach had made her feel better. He helped her mount behind him and once again they started out on the road.

  “When we get back you should eat some bread,” he said. “It will help to settle your stomach.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be. The alcohol emboldened you, and you discovered information that I would not have. I just hope I don’t have to ply you with ale to bring out that quality again.”

  “So do I,” she said.

  They arrived at the school and she once again slid from the horse.

  “Go to the kitchen and wait for me while I take care of the horse,” he said.

  “If you say so,” she said, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. Her dizziness was gone, but her stomach, which had calmed somewhat, was once again turning flips.