His Curious Imp: The Rakes of Mayfair Book 4

by Barron, Melinda

  Her smile brightened as she remembered where Timmons had put her old clothing. Half an hour later she was changed and headed toward the docks. Finally, she was going to be a real reporter. Finally, she was going to crack open a big case.

  * * *

  Gabby peered over the loft railing at the men who were moving crates around in the warehouse. She’d looked through four warehouses before she’d found this one. And she’d only been able to pry open the lid on one of the smaller boxes before the workers had arrived.

  She opened her palm and looked at the small amulet that was nestled inside. It was made of some sort of smooth marble material. And it was definitely Egyptian in nature.

  She glanced out the window. It was getting dark outside and she knew that Fergus would be awake by now and realize that she was gone. And he’d be furious. She would get a royal spanking for this little adventure. And not the good kind.

  It was another one of those situations where she acted before she thought. She should have ignored her longing to prove herself capable of uncovering the story and woken Fergus to show him the notes. She could still write the story. Still sell it to The Times.

  But she hadn’t. She’d acted on impulse. Now she was alone on the docks, it was almost dark and Fergus had no idea where she was. She was in deep trouble. In more ways than one.

  Two more workers came in and the four men lifted a heavy crate and took it outdoors. They came back moments later and lifted a second one. They were moving the crates, Gabby thought, possibly taking them to the docks. From there they would disappear and never be seen again.

  When they’d loaded a few more the door closed, leaving only a few lamps for light. Gabby crept down the stairs and moved to the oblong box that was lying against the wall. She wondered if the mummy was inside. It was the right size and shape. She lifted the lid and gasped as the wrappings of a mummy came into view. She pushed the lid and it crashed to the floor, making her jump even higher as she stared at the remains.

  “Gabriella. What are you doing here?”

  Gabby turned and let out a sigh. “Mr. Phillips, thank God. You must have read McNutt’s notes too. Look at all these artifacts. Someone replaced the real ones at the museum with fakes. These are the real ones. We have to find a constable before they ship them out.”

  A large man that Gabby didn’t recognize came into view.

  “I thought you said she knew nothing about this.” His voice was harsh. “This is your problem, Phillips. I expect you to take care of her as you did McNutt. Or our agreement is null and void.”

  Gabby’s heart caught in her throat. “Mark? You killed John?”

  “Money is a strange thing, Miss Saunders,” the man said. “When McNutt let it slip that he was blackmailing me your boss decided to cut himself in on the action. He’s quite handy with a knife. And I may be many things but one thing I’m not is a murderer.”

  Phillips gave Gabby an uneasy look. Then he turned an angry look on the man. “It would have been passed off as an accident if you hadn’t put the body in the coffin.”

  The man laughed. “That mummy will fetch quite a price in America. And since I couldn’t take the sarcophagus I decided to give McNutt a big sendoff. The curse of the mummy headlines came in handy. No one was looking at the artifacts. All they were seeing was a dead body.”

  “The museum knows they’re fakes,” Gabby said softly. “It won’t be long before they track you down.”

  “Who cares? By then I’ll be long gone, with lots of money in my pocket. Speaking of which…”

  The man handed a large paper wrapped bundle to Phillips. “Fifty thousand pounds, as agreed.”

  Phillips reached for it and the man pulled it back.

  “Kill her first. I don’t want any loose ends. Dump her body in the Thames. No knife this time. Just hit her with something and when they find her it will look like she hit her head and fell into the river.”

  The man left and Gabby turned to Phillips.

  “How could you? How could you kill a man you’ve worked with for years? How could you express remorse at his death when you were the cause of it?”

  Phillips sneered at her. “You wouldn’t understand now that you’ve got your fancy lord. I work hard every day and nothing changes. This money will help build up The Sentinel, help me hire more professional staff, make it more like a real newspaper instead of a gossip sheet.

  “Do you think I wanted to kill him? He was a rotten man but he was a good reporter. He left me no choice. He refused to share his money, even though he found the information while on company time.”

  “That’s not exactly true.” Fergus’ voice was low. “He was doing much of his investigations at night, while he wasn’t on your time.”

  Gabby let out a sigh of relief as Phillips slumped onto a crate. Once he was down she propelled herself into Fergus’ arms.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, just dirty from creeping around warehouses.”

  Gabby blushed as Fergus gave her a stern look. She started to open her mouth to explain herself and stopped when he said, “Later, Gabriella.”

  He turned to Phillips.

  “I would like to introduce you to Inspector Wilcox, Mr. Phillips. He’s outside with your friends.”

  “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  “It’s hard to stab someone twice by accident,” Gabby said.

  Phillips lowered his head into his hands and Gabby moved toward him when she realized he was crying. Fergus pulled her back and shook his head.

  “Let him stew,” Fergus said. “You should be more worried about your own behind. Because when I’m done with it you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

  * * *

  Robert bounded down the steps of the museum and twirled Gabby in a huge hug.

  “I can’t thank you enough. It’s back. It’s all back. Every last piece, even the mummy.”

  Gabby laughed when he finally put her back on the ground. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs toward the second floor.

  “Come and see. Of course the fakes were so good that no one really realized they weren’t the real ones. And I told a white lie. I didn’t tell my superiors that I knew. If they knew that I kept it from them I’m sure I would be fired.”

  Gabby looked back at Fergus, who was taking the stairs two at a time behind them. He hadn’t said much to her since the warehouse. She’d had to give statements to the police about what she’d seen.

  But she’d refused to talk to the reporters. She told The Times man that if they wanted her information for the story she would write it herself.

  He’d looked skeptical but had nodded and said he’d tell his editors.

  Now she watched as Robert ran from piece to piece in an excited fashion.

  “Look. The amulet you had with you? It’s a heart scarab, buried with the mummy for use in the afterlife. He moved to another piece. And this is the mummy’s Book of the Dead. It helps them to navigate their way through the underworld.”

  “How much do you think they would have received for all of these artifacts?”

  Robert shook his head. “Nothing near what they’re really worth. But I’m thinking that they could have received upwards of a £1 million, maybe more. Certainly nothing worth killing a man over.”

  They all remained silent as workers replaced the fake artifacts with the real ones.

  “The exhibit will reopen tomorrow,” Robert said. “And I’m sure that it will be a big success. The curse of the mummy will pack them in.”

  Gabby and Fergus both laughed.

  A worker called out Robert’s name and he excused himself.

  “It all worked out,” Gabby said, smiling at Fergus.

  “Yes, for the most part,” Fergus said. “You, however, have some things to answer for. I can see that previous punishment spankings didn’t have the effect that I’d wished for. Therefore, the one tonight will be designed to prove a point. Several points. And I hope that you learn those poi
nts well. I cannot believe that you went to the docks without me, Gabriella.”

  “It’s such a big story, Fergus, that I really didn’t think…”

  “Exactly. You didn’t think. It has nothing to do with you being a woman, Gabby. Look what happened to McNutt. It has to do with you acting before you realize the consequences of your actions. You could have been killed. And I don’t think that I could live without you. I don’t want to live without you. I want to marry you as we planned. I want to watch our children grow.”

  “Fergus, I want those things too.”

  “Then think, please, Gabby. Think before you rush into things. That will be the main focus of your punishment tonight.”

  “Will it be very hard?” Gabby felt the hairs on her arms rise.

  “Very.”

  “With the leather?”

  “No. Not the strap. Something that will leave a more lasting impression.”

  Before Gabby could question Fergus more, Robert came up with a man he introduced as Elliott Nelson, the head of the archeology department.

  “Miss Saunders. Lord McIntyre. We thank you for your assistance.”

  He held the jade scarab that Gabby had found.

  “We would like you to have this.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly take it.”

  “We insist. As a reminder of your adventure.” He put it in Gabby’s hand and nodded before he left.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Gabby said. “I want to put it on a necklace. Do you think that can be done?”

  “I think a jeweler can fit it properly,” Fergus said. “We’ll go and see one tomorrow.”

  They said goodbye to Robert and went out onto the street. A young boy was standing on the street corner, hawking newspapers with the phrase, “Extra! Extra! Mummy invades the docks, read all about it! Real Egyptian mummy on the London docks!”

  Gabby shrieked as she ran up to buy a paper. Her shrieking increased as she read Wilcox’s statement about the fakes at the museum being discovered by Gabriella Saunders.

  “You’re famous, sweet one,” Fergus said. “Too bad that fame won’t save you from punishment for running out on your own without speaking to me, first.”

  Chapter 12

  Gabby took a drink from her wine glass and held it tight, to hopefully keep her hands from shaking. They were all at Fergus’ house—no, their house—and were eating and drinking so much that Gabby thought she would explode before the end of the evening.

  She hadn’t eaten any food, just had some wine. She noticed that Fergus wasn’t eating, either. But he was glancing at her from time to time, and the emotion in his eyes showed that he was not happy with her.

  “You’re making us look bad, Gabby,” Barton said. “We searched for the crates and you found them just by snapping your fingers. We’d tried to recreate McNutt’s steps on his last days. The man had obviously been very sneaky. Kudos to you, Gabby.”

  They’d all raised their glasses to her, even Fergus.

  “All I did was put a few clues together,” she said. “It was nothing.”

  But it was something, truthfully. Well, the something came from her acting without thinking. It was something she was going to have to deal with later. She wasn’t happy about that.

  The group talked and laughed until almost ten. When they were all gone, Fergus looked at Gabby. She waited for him to smile, to frown, to yell, to do something. Instead he just stared. Finally, after what seemed an eternity he said, “Go upstairs and have Ellie help you undress and bathe. Then stand in the corner, naked with your nose to the wall after she’s gone.”

  “How long do I have to stand in the corner?”

  “Until I decide to come up.”

  He gave her a look that dared her to disagree with him. She walked to the stairs without looking back.

  Ellie had already drawn a bath and after Gabby bathed and dried off, she told the girl to leave. Then she took a deep breath and went to the corner, her naked body shivering slightly. Whether it was from the cold or from anticipation of future events she wasn’t sure.

  As she waited she thought about her day. She really shouldn’t have rushed into things. A good reporter would find out all the facts before putting herself in a situation where she could lose her life.

  What would have happened if Fergus had not arrived when he did? Would Phillips have killed her? She wondered if Fitz, the mastermind of the whole thing, would have given Phillips more money for her death, or if she was just part of the deal that centered around McNutt.

  Poor McNutt. The man was a creep but he didn’t deserve to die, or have his body put on display.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and turned toward the door as it opened and Fergus walked in.

  He had a riding crop in his hands and Gabby let out a yelp.

  “Oh no! You’re not using that on my behind!”

  “You’re right, I’m not,” he said calmly.

  Her shoulders sagged in relief. “I don’t understand.”

  “Gabby, my love, I’ve bought you a gift.” He closed the door behind him and walked toward the bed. “I had planned on giving it to you tonight so you can use it to better your career. Instead you’re going to use it for another purpose.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “A typewriting machine,” he said. “Your punishment for going into things on your own is to write a punishment scene, featuring this crop, which you will read to the members of the Rakes Club. It will be a punishment, a harsh one.”

  She was happy that she wasn’t going to be whipped, but she wasn’t sure about writing about something she’d never experienced. But she wasn’t going to tell him that, because she was afraid he would offer to show her how it felt.

  “Very well,” she said. “Do I write now?”

  “No.” He picked up the crop and crossed to her. “Open your mouth.”

  When it was open he put the crop in her mouth. “Now, bend over the bed and clasp your hands behind your back. Ten minutes should do the trick. Then we sleep, and tomorrow you write. The Rakes will hear your offering tomorrow evening.”

  She couldn’t answer, because the crop was in her mouth. Before he changed his mind, she took up the position he’d described, keeping her head at an odd angle because of the crop. She cut her gaze, as much as she could, to watch him as he sat down in a chair. Then she tried to remain calm and think about what to write.

  * * *

  Gabby was naked in front of a group of people she didn’t know, and that wasn’t part of the fiction she’d written that afternoon. Fergus was talking to them, but she wasn’t really listening because she knew what he was saying. Gabby was going to read them her story. The set up was that she was being punished for rushing off without telling him what she was doing. The crop played a big part.

  “Remember, Gabby, to read loudly,” Fergus said. “After it is over your punishment will be finished.”

  Gabby cleared her throat. She wanted to cross her legs, but Fergus had told her she had to leave her legs spread, so people could see her quim.

  She rattled the papers and tried to read the first sentence. But her voice faltered. So she cleared her throat once more and tried again…

  “Yes, I am.” His voice was calm. “The last punishment didn’t seem to take. We’ll see if this time I can make a lasting impression.”

  She crossed to stand in front of him. “Fergus, you can’t be serious.”

  “Did I say you could leave the corner? And I’m very serious about this punishment, Gabriella.”

  When she didn’t move he pointed and said, “Corner, now.”

  Tears were forming in her eyes as she imagined the riding crop coming down on her bum.

  “I want to talk about that crop.”

  “And I want you to go back to the corner. Now. We have things to discuss, yes, but you will get back to your corner and behave yourself.”

  She walked there and stood with her hands on her hips.

  “Have you tho
ught about today?”

  “I have.”

  “Gabby, I applaud your desire to do what you want to do. And I support it. I want you to be happy. But I want you to be here, with me. I want you to think.”

  He crossed to the table. “Come to me, Gabby.”

  Gabby stopped speaking. She took a drink of water from the glass on the table, but kept her gaze from wandering around the room. No one had made a sound so she wondered if they were enjoying her writing. She hoped they were. She started to read again.

  “No. I won’t let you use that thing on me.”

  Fergus’ eyes flashed angrily. “Come here. Now.”

  “No. Not until you promise not to use that thing on my behind.”

  “If you fight me on this, your punishment will be much harder. I won’t ask again, Gabby.”

  She shook her head and Fergus sighed. He set the crop on the table and moved toward her. She didn’t run, just stood in the corner and watched him walk to her.

  He kissed her forehead and then sat down in a chair.

  “Fine. We’ll wait until you’re ready to accept it. But I have to warn you, Gabby, that the longer I wait, the harder your punishment will be.”

  “You’re not going to force me?”

  “No. But it will happen. I’m a very patient man. Now turn your nose back to the corner.”

  She turned. After about two minutes she started to squirm. She could feel Fergus’ eyes on her and she knew that he would get his way.

  “I want a number.”

  “There will be no set number, Gabby. You will be spanked until I think the punishment is over. End of story. And the more you ask the more I think the number needs to be increased.”

  “No, I want a set number. I won’t go into this blind. It’s not fair to me. That way I’ll know what to expect.”

  Fergus didn’t answer and as the silence stretched Gabby squirmed more.

  “Well?”

  She turned toward him and he twirled his fingers to indicate she should put her nose against the wall again.