Muriel’s Adventures

by Barron, Melinda

  The air between them grew tenser with every passing second, and then finally Phee smiled. “Perhaps I will have your head chopped off when I’m on the throne. I think bringing back that particular punishment will be fitting in your case. I would do it now, but I need you. Unfortunately.”

  “Then take me to my husband, and we’ll see about getting you what you want,” Muriel said. She wanted to scream at the woman, ask her if she really believed the garbage that was coming out of her mouth.”

  “We’ll take your carriage,” Phee said. “But we’ll use my driver.”

  Muriel didn’t have to ask the reason why. Phee was the suspicious sort, and she’d possibly already figured out that the driver was a police officer. Either that or she didn’t want the driver to be able to find a way back to where they were going.”

  “The sooner the better,” Muriel said.

  They had a heated discussion with the driver, who insisted the carriage was his and he wouldn’t give over the reins. But Muriel reached into her bag and offered him money. The look he gave her was cold, but he took it and backed away.

  They traveled in silence as they left the village, and once they were on a road surrounded by trees Muriel was sure she was on her own. The first clue was that they hadn’t gone to retrieve the boxes.

  “Why did we go through all that when you don’t need the items you had us searching for?” Muriel asked as she smoothed down her skirts.

  “I wanted to make sure we put on a good show for your police friends,” Phee said with a laugh. “I’m sure by now my friends, who are not on the right side of the law, have done what I asked them to do, just in case you’re waiting for your knights in shining armor to come and save you.”

  “You need the boxes,” Muriel said.

  “Not anymore,” Phee said. “We’ve decided to go a different way. In fact, we’ve been constructing new altars to use tonight. You’ll notice the plural of the word there. I’ve decided that since one didn’t work last year we should try two this year, one from each sex. That way one of you will surely work.”

  Muriel’s heart beat faster. She should have known she was walking into a trap. If she jumped from the carriage right now she would get away, but what about Ewan? She wouldn’t want to live if Ewan wasn’t in the world. Which meant she needed to use the time between now and their arrival, however long that might be, to come up with plan.

  “You should be honored to give your life for a good cause,” Phee said.

  “You should know there are plenty of asylums ready to accept someone like you,” Muriel countered. “They might be able to help you.”

  Phee laughed, which was a better response than what Muriel expected. The carriage pulled off the road and came to a stop.

  “We walk from here,” Phee said. “A few of my men will stay here to make sure the law officers don’t follow us. I have my revolver to make sure you stay in line.” Phee reached into her bag and pulled out the weapon. “Do we understand each other?”

  “We do,” Muriel said.

  They started to walk through the woods, following a narrow path with Muriel in front. As they walked, Muriel examined the area. She thought about tripping, trying to find a rock that she could use to pound into Phee’s skull, but there was nothing more than tiny pebbles and twigs lying around.

  She was surprised there were not people around, members of Phee’s cult. She wondered if they were sleeping, getting ready for tonight’s events. That could be it, and if that was the case, it could work to her advantage.

  But first she had to see where they were going, and it didn’t take long. About ten minutes later they stepped into a clearing. Muriel stopped and stared at the items in front of her. Phee stepped up next to her and said, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “That’s not the word I would use,” Muriel said. There were two altars, side by side. A sort of wooden canopy had been built, with six beams that created a tip in the middle. “You’re planning on killing people in there.”

  “Not just people, you and Ewan,” Phee said. “The center point there is in perfect alignment with where the sun will be at midnight tonight. When we slit your throats, your blood will drip on the stones we’ve stationed around the altars. Our incantations will summon the Lady of the Lake, and she will give me Excalibur.”

  “Excuse me, Phee, but you are more than bonkers, you are crazy,” Muriel said, keeping her tone even. “It didn’t work before, and it won’t work now. Where is my husband?”

  “There’s a small enclosure to the north, near the lake.” Phee pushed her. Muriel lost her balance and fell to the ground. She glanced around, looking for a rock, or a branch, or something she could use to knock the woman upside the head. But she saw nothing. Only dirt.

  She grimaced as she grabbed handfuls of it before she pushed herself to her knees, and then to her feet. She turned to Phee.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you won’t feel a thing,” Phee said. She opened her mouth to speak again and Muriel took a step back. She threw the handfuls of dirt at Phee’s face. She watched in satisfaction as the woman began to cough and wave her hands in front of her face.

  Before she could spit out all the dirt, Muriel doubled up her fist and smashed it into the woman’s face. She fell to the ground and Muriel dropped down on top of her. She doubled up her fist again and slammed it into the woman’s face once more.

  “The first one was for Ewan, and that was for Chastity Wilks. And this, is from me.” She hit her once more and watched in satisfaction as Phee’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she fell back, unconscious.

  A sound behind her made Muriel jerk back and stand up so fast she almost lost her balance.

  “Mrs. McClacken,” Inspector Buckley said. “It looks as if you don’t need my assistance this time.”

  “I have to find Ewan,” she said. She hiked up her skirts and ran toward the north.

  “Mrs. McClacken, be careful,” the officer yelled after her. She could hear him running behind her, but she didn’t care. She prayed she hadn’t hurt her chances of finding Ewan.

  A man ran out of the trees, but before he reached her another man came behind him and tackled him. She could hear sounds all over, and she imagined Buckley’s men tackling Phee’s cult members.

  But she didn’t care what was happening to them, any of them. All she wanted was to see Ewan. She stopped at the edge of the clearing and looked into the trees.

  “Ewan!” There was no answer. She called his name once more, and turned in a circle, panic setting in when there was no answer.

  As the sounds of a ruckus grew behind her she put her hands on her hips and took several deep breaths. Don’t panic, don’t panic, she repeated to herself. He’s here somewhere.

  She turned in a circle several more times, then looked down at the ground. She could see her footprints in the dirt. There were several small paths leading away from the circle, and only one of them looked like it’s been used.

  Her feet seemed to move of their own accord and she flew down the path. She could hear Buckley screaming at her to stop. The path led to another smaller clearing. There was a body lying under a blanket.

  “Ewan!” She ran toward him, dropping down and shaking him. His eyes fluttered but he didn’t utter a word. “Ewan!”

  “Mrs. McClacken,” Buckley’s voice rang in her ears. When he dropped down beside her she put her head on Ewan’s chest. She could hear his heart beating steadily.

  “Why won’t he wake up?” she asked.

  “Drugged,” Buckley said. “I can smell it from here. I’ll have a few of my men carry him out, after we’ve made sure Phee’s associates are secured. Then we’ll find him a doctor.”

  “You’re going to be fine,” she whispered in Ewan’s ear. “We’ve taken care of her. In the end it was easier than I thought it would be.”

  She waited for him to answer, and when it didn’t happen she patted his chest. There were spots on his face and arms from where he’d obviously been in a fight
. She prayed his continued unconscious state was from drugs, as Buckley thought, and not from something more serious. “All this for nothing. But you were right about one thing, all of them were in it together, except for Buckley. I think that means you won part of the bet, but not all of it. We’ll have to work out the details later.”

  Again, there was no answer. She put her hand on his chest and closed her eyes in gratitude as she felt it rise and fall in the gentle rhythm of sleep. She lay down next to him and put her arm over his chest.

  She couldn’t help but think that if Ewan were conscious, he would tell her this was the perfect place to have sex. She made a mental note to tell him that when he woke up.

  * * *

  Three days later

  “Stop treating me like an invalid.” Ewan pulled his arm away from Muriel’s grasp. “It’s just a bruise. The only thing wrong with me is my wife refuses to have sex with me. That could be considered a crime, you know. You need to perform your wifely duties.”

  Muriel glared at him. “I will, but only when I think there is no damage from the beating you received. And to think the little witch told me you’d been taken care of.”

  “She’s not our problem anymore,” Ewan said. “Buckley will transfer her to London where she and her friends will stand trial for murder, and likely face the gallows.”

  “Except for Mrs. Wiggins, who is dead.” Which made the fact they were still staying in the woman’s house a little strange to her. Buckley had asked them to delay their return to London in case he had any questions about the investigation. Which left them in the house, with nothing to do.

  “We could search for the third box,” she said.

  “No, let’s leave it for someone else to find,” he said. “Personally, I have no desire to look for it. But I do have a desire to tie my wife to a tree and fuck her until her knees give out.”

  Muriel shivered and snuggled up next to him on the divan. “We should wait until we are home.”

  “Why?” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Remember, you owe me. I won the bet.”

  “You were partly right,” she said. “You included Buckley in your supposition.”

  “So, I should what, tie you and leave you?” He laughed, and her nipples tightened at the sound. “You’ll like it much better if I tie you and fuck you. Trust me.”

  “Which means you want me to admit defeat,” she said. “I don’t think that will happen.”

  “You’ve never been defeated in anything, my love,” he said softly. “You saved my life.”

  “And I’ll do again if necessary.”

  “Give me a chance next time,” he said. He sat up and pulled her to him, kissing her so deeply it took her breath away.

  “Now, let’s talk about that garden in the back,” he said.

  “It’s the middle of the day!” Muriel protested.

  “We’ll give the neighbors quite a show.” He wiggled his eyebrows and she couldn’t help but giggle.

  “I’ll make you a deal.” He ran his finger up her arm and she shivered. “We’ll wait until it’s dark, but you’re responsible for the amount of noise you make, which means you’re going to have to bite your lip, because I’m going to make sure you have the urge to scream.”

  “I’ll be too nervous to scream,” she said, even though she knew that wasn’t true. Every time Ewan put his hands on her she had the urge to scream. His touch was that magical to her.

  “Let’s get back to the case,” she said. “How do you think Phee’s father will react to his daughter’s actions? Or Mr. Holmes? What happens when you hear someone you cared about is actually a murderer? How do you think she kept it from them? She was obviously involved in Chastity Wilks murder. It just boggles the mind.”

  “Sometimes people don’t always know someone,” he said. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Probably.” She snuggled next to him. “I know you, or I think I do. What are you hiding from me?”

  “A huge erection,” he declared.

  Muriel giggled and put her hands between his legs. “Not exactly hidden.”

  Ewan put his hand behind her head and pulled her to him, kissing her deeply and roughly. “To hell with waiting for dark,” he said. He got up quickly and Muriel tumbled into the space he’d just vacated. He stormed out of the room and she called after him.

  “What’s wrong? Where are you going?” Muriel stood. She made to follow him out of the room, but he didn’t give her a chance. He was back, with a length of rope stretched between his hands.

  “No, not now,” she said. She backed up and hit her calf on the divan, tumbling down onto its cushions. He was on top of her before she knew what was happening, and when she playfully beat on his chest he wrapped the rope around her wrists and put his face right next to hers.

  “We’re going outside now.”

  “No,” she said halfheartedly. The idea thrilled her to no end, but it also scared the devil out of her. This was a small town, and even though they knew Buckley and helped him to prevent a murder—murders, their murders—she wasn’t sure he would look the other way if they were caught fucking in the garden.

  “Ewan please, I agree with the idea, but we should wait for dark.” She groaned as he got off her and pulled her up by the end of the rope.

  “Not on your life, my love,” he said.

  He pulled her through the house, although she thought led might be a better word. She didn’t fight him too much.

  When they were in the garden, she looked to the largest tree, which was nestled in the center of a group of bushes. Hopefully the foliage would provide a little bit of cover. She saw ropes hanging from a thick tree limb and it made her smile—her husband had already set things up.

  She could hear the clip clop of horse hooves in the street, which made her nerves jump. The question was if her nervousness was a good thing, or bad; it could increase her pleasure, or make her worry so much about discovery that she didn’t feel anything good.

  “Ewan,” she said as they came upon the tree. He’d already wrapped a rope around it, and it took him seconds to secure the lead from her wrist ties to the tree.

  “How’s this, my love? Or would you rather I tie your hands above your head?” He pulled her close so that her back was to his front. Even through their clothing she could feel his cock, hard and ready to fuck her.

  Her breathing became erratic, as it always seemed to do when he had her in his arms.

  “You like doing what I want,” he said as he drew away from her. “But you want it, too. Remember the night we met Robson-Jones? You came into the house talking about the tree. Was this what you had in mind? You want to do odd things, but you’re afraid to try them. Why? And before you answer, come back as far as the ropes will allow you and bend over.”

  “It would be easier in our own home,” she said, breathily as she followed his instructions. “Less chance of being seen.”

  “Maybe the neighbors would find it fascinating,” he said as he started to inch her skirts up. I don’t want it to be easy for you. I want you to be on edge.”

  With those words he yelled out, “Over here!”

  “No!” Muriel countered. She pulled against her bonds, but it did no good. Ewan had her skirts over her hips now, and he tugged her pantalets down around her knees. Then he smacked her bottom repeatedly, all the time shouting out about what a beautiful behind she had.

  “Lovely, but even lovelier when it’s nice and red.” He spanked her over and over. Muriel kept her lips pursed together to keep from crying out as he continued to swat her bottom. It didn’t really hurt, but he smacked her hard enough to make her bottom burn.

  “Someone—someone—oh.” She tried to form a sentence, about wanting to stop it and go back inside and finish things up, and when he did stop she thought maybe he had the same idea. Her shoulders ached from being in the same position, and from her yanking in an effort to try and free herself.

  When Ewan grabbed her hips and thrust inside her she
broke her desire to stay silent and screamed out in pure pleasure. She grunted and groaned as he plunged into her, back and forth until she came, the world exploding around her. He fucked her harder, and she was sure the sounds of their flesh slapping together, mixed with their noises, roused the neighbors. But right now, she didn’t care. All she wanted was for him to keep fucking her, claiming her.

  When his groans intensified she stayed still, glad to take everything he gave her. He slipped out, and to her shock, picked up a knife near the base of the tree and expertly cut the rope.

  She crumpled to the ground and he did the same, pulling her close and kissing her deeply.

  “Good practice for the tree in our garden,” he said when the kiss broke.

  “I’m ready to go home,” she said. “I have not liked proving that Phee is a murderess.”

  “Me neither,” he said. He stroked her forehead. “Sometimes things happen, though.”

  “I want our next case to be finding a missing puppy, or cat,” she said with a laugh.

  “Our next case,” he said. He kissed her gently. “Does that mean you’re leaving the bookshop?”

  “If I do we’ll have to do more than search for missing pets,” she said.

  “True.” One more kiss. “And together we can solve anything.”

  “You’re right.” She snuggled against him, and it occurred to her that she wasn’t upset about being discovered in this compromising position. She wanted to take things a little further, take more chances with him. “Let’s go home so I can tender my resignation at the shop, and then we can take a ride in the park.”

  His eyebrows lifted and then he smiled. “We’ll go as soon as we go home. I’m quite looking forward to it.”

  “So am I, my darling husband, so am I.”

  The End

  Melinda Barron

  Melinda Barron loves to explore Egyptian tombs and temples, discover Mayan ruins, play in castles towers, and explore new cities and countries. She generally does it all from the comfort of her home by opening a book.