Muriel’s Adventures

by Barron, Melinda

  “Are you sure no one else came in the room when you did?” Muriel asked.

  “No, ma’am,” Pansy said. “You were on the bed, under the blanket, and sleeping.”

  Now Muriel’s hand shook. She had not covered herself with the blanket when she’d decided to try out the bed.

  Someone had been in the room, but whom? And why had they covered her up and left the jewelry?

  “Is there a lock on the door?” she asked. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good.” Muriel cleared her throat. She would get to the bottom of this before the end of her stay here. “Tell me, Pansy, what do you know about the auction taking place here?”

  “Of the erotic items?” Pansy asked. “I know that the marquis had quite a collection, and his wife wants rid of it all.”

  “Do you know where these items are being kept?” Oh, Muriel knew she shouldn’t go down this path, but she wanted to see the reliefs, and the other objects, before the others had the chance.

  “Yes,” Pansy said.

  “Will you show me?” Muriel put her hand on the maid’s arm. “I can pay you.”

  “If Philip found out…” Pansy lowered her gaze to the ground. “Very well, there is a small passageway that leads down stairs, to the passageway near the dining hall. Two doors down from there is the room where the auction will take place. The items are in there.”

  Muriel was happy to have this information. “The room is locked?”

  “Yes, but there is a passageway from the dining hall to the two rooms past it,” Pansy said. “The entrance to it is behind the floor to ceiling painting of the forest. It is near the sideboard.”

  Muriel couldn’t help but notice that Pansy’s French accent seemed to fade while she was giving the directions, one she’d obviously memorized. But why? Something was not right. But Muriel was not sure exactly what that something was. She would figure it out, in good time, but in the meanwhile she would act as if nothing was wrong.

  Because if whoever had come into the room and placed the blanket over her, and put the jewelry amongst her belongings knew she suspected something, Muriel was sure bad things would follow.

  * * *

  The first thing Muriel noticed when she walked into the dining room was the continued opulence. The plates on the table were rimmed in gold, and the eating utensils were made of the same thing.

  The second thing she noticed was Ewan McClacken. He was in full Scottish dress, and his kilt revealed muscular legs that made Muriel’s nipples harden. He looked up as she entered. When he saw her he smiled, and lifted his glass in greeting. At the same time a servant came up to her with a tray.

  “Wine, ma’am?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Muriel said as she took a glass. She drank enough to wet her lips, and then she made her way to the Scotsman.

  “Mr. McClacken,” she said when she was near him. “How wonderful to see you again.”

  “And you, Miss Robertson,” he said. “I trust you are refreshed after your journey.”

  “I am,” she replied. She wanted to ask him if he’d been the one to come into her room, but decided she didn’t want to show her hand too soon. “We will, I’m sure, be bidding on the same items.”

  He laughed, and lifted his glass to her. “I see you’re not afraid to take on an opponent. I find that refreshing.”

  “Are you buying for yourself, or for someone else?” she asked.

  “I hear we’re having guinea fowl for dinner,” he said. “It sounds delicious.”

  The way he said the last word made her think of other delicious things she would like to talk about with him. It would be refreshing to ask him to visit her that evening. Even though her afternoon visitor had convinced her to lock her door, she would leave it open if McClacken would visit.

  She thought about her earlier resolve to try and seduce him. Perhaps, given the fact that something was happening and she didn’t know what it was, it would be best to abandon those plans.

  “Are you listening to me, or daydreaming?” McClacken asked. “Maybe I should ask if you are daydreaming, or fantasizing, perhaps about the reliefs? They say that people who possess them are, how shall I put it, affected, sexually.”

  “Really, Mr. McClacken, this is hardly polite dinner conversation.”

  He chuckled. “Since we’re not eating I think it’s perfect pre-dinner conversation.” He took a drink from his wine. “Which one is your favorite? I know you’ve studied them. Is it the one where she is under the lash, or the one where she is servicing two men at once?”

  Muriel refused to let him bait her. She would try the same tactic on him as he had on her when she’d asked about his employer.

  “I do hope there is something other than guinea fowl,” she said. “They are not very big birds, and for the amount of people here I would say the cook would have been slaving over the ovens all day long. Perhaps she fixed chicken.”

  She glanced at McClacken only to see that his gaze was fastened on her breasts, which were much more exposed than they usually were.

  “Mr. McClacken, I believe you need to avert your gaze,” she said.

  “Sorry, Miss Robertson,” he said. “You’re just so appealing, that I find it hard to look at anything else in the room. I noticed you looking at my legs earlier. Or perhaps you were studying something else, perhaps something that rests under my sporran?”

  Muriel’s nipples hardened even more and pressed against the material of her gown as he so boldly mentioned his penis.

  “Sir, you are not a gentleman,” she said, working to make her voice sound icy despite the fact he was obviously trying to seduce her, as she had planned to do with him.

  “I never claimed to be,” he said. He leaned down so his lips were near hers. “We’re after erotic material, Miss Robertson. I wouldn’t expect you to blush at the mention of what is under my kilt.”

  “You should be ashamed,” Muriel said. She could feel wetness forming between her thighs. How she wanted to taste sex this week, to have a cock between her legs.

  “You should be happy I’m so disciplined.” He licked his lips and Muriel couldn’t help but focus on them, and wonder what they would feel like wrapped around her nipples.

  “I hope I’m not sitting next to you at dinner,” she said.

  “So am I,” he said. “If I’m sitting across the table from you, I’ll enjoy the scenery ever so much.”

  Muriel put a hand to her chest, and wished she hadn’t worn this dress. The green one was not as revealing as this one. She had it for tomorrow night, though, and of course she had day dresses for the time they would be looking at the artifacts.

  “Of course, if I’m next to you I can lean over and get a good view, too.” He took another drink and she could see the smile on his face as he lifted the glass to his mouth.

  “You sir, are horrible.”

  “So I’ve been told,” he said. “I’m sorry if my behavior has offended you.”

  He took another drink.

  “No you’re not,” Muriel said. She turned her face to hide the smile her words brought to her lips.

  “You’re right, I’m not,” he said. “If you are angry with me for letting my interest in you be known that is not a good thing, because I am planning on trying to seduce you. I hope that doesn’t make you blush any more than you are right now.”

  Before Muriel could respond, Philip said, “If I may have your attention. I would like to introduce the group. Some of you already know each other, but many of you are new to this area. The first would be Miss Muriel Robertson, here from London.” He pointed at her and then at Ewan as he introduced him, also from London.

  “The others are from Paris. Patrick Robinex and his wife, Patrice; Thomas Bernard and his wife, Della; and Simon Petit and his wife, Julia. These are the people you will be competing against for the purchase of the artifacts. I expect you all to be civil to one another. Any problems, verbal or physical, will result in the persons involved being evicted from the chateau.”

/>   “Will the lady of the manor be here?” Ewan asked.

  “She will not,” Philip responded. “Now, shall we enjoy our dinner and get to know one another?”

  They took their places at the table, and Muriel found herself sitting next to Patrick Robinex. She noticed Ewan was sitting next to his wife. She was happy to see that Patrick spoke English, but his choice of topic, how women were now allowed to study at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, and how that would ruin the school, was not something Muriel wanted to discuss.

  She focused on her plate and let the man drone on. She thought about asking him if he realized he was speaking to a woman, and being condescending about how a woman’s place was where her husband said it could be. But then she remembered Philip’s admonishment about keeping quiet and not starting trouble. If she left before the bidding began, Mrs. Temple would never forgive her.

  Instead, she needed to think about Ewan, who seemed to be having a lively discussion with Patrice Robinex. Patrick and Patrice, she said to herself as Patrick continued his rant. They were so close together. She wondered if they were the couple’s true names, or if they were aliases so they could attend the auction.

  She wondered if she should have used an alias.

  She wondered if Ewan was using one.

  She wondered how she would get a chance to see the artifacts before anyone else.

  For the first time since she’d arrived, she wondered why she’d said yes so quickly and not thought about the implications of this auction, and what she’d gotten herself into. After all, someone had snuck into her room that afternoon and left jewelry.

  What did the baubles mean? She wrapped her hands around the blue stone and squeezed it gently. She didn’t feel any sort of energy coming off it. Her mother had believed in that sort of thing, that certain stones could heal sicknesses.

  She shouldn’t have worn it tonight, not without knowing where it had come from. Perhaps she should share her misgivings with Ewan. After all, he was the only person here whom she had seen outside of France.

  “You’re gathering wool,” Ewan’s voice sounded in her ear. “The meal has been over for at least five minutes, and you’re still staring at your plate. Was the food not to your liking?”

  “It was fine,” Muriel said as she stood up. “But I am tired. I believe I am going to my room now. Could we speak after breakfast?”

  “Certainly,” Ewan said. “Shall I walk you to your room?”

  “That won’t be necessary, thank you.” Muriel was somewhat surprised at her response. She had thought, once again, that the seduction idea sounded like a nice addition to the weekend. But she needed to think about the things that had happened, and she couldn’t do that with Ewan in her bedroom.

  She went upstairs, closed and locked her door. Different thoughts roamed through her mind. She wanted to see the reliefs, and she knew that Pansy had given her the perfect directions. She could find the way there easily enough, but did she want to? Would it give her answers to the jewelry?

  It wasn’t a sure thing, but looking at the artifacts could be a good thing. She would wait until around midnight, though, to make sure everyone was out of the dining hall, and hopefully in their rooms.

  She sat in her chair, wearing a day dress she’d changed into after dinner. Pansy had not shown up to help her, which meant, to Muriel, that she had taken Muriel’s plea to heart about not needing a maid.

  The hours seemed to tic by slowly, and when the clock struck midnight, Muriel decided now was the time to act. She picked up a candle and then took a deep breath.

  There was no time like the present to roam around someone’s house after midnight and try to do something you’ve been told not to do.

  She steeled herself against the possibility she might get caught, and kicked out before the auction, and stepped into the hallway.

  Chapter 3

  The house was cold, and Muriel shivered as she walked down the stairs. She’d thought about taking the passageway Pansy had told her about, that would take her to the bottom level. She worried there were too many chances for stairs that she might trip over.

  She made it down the stairs and into the dining hall with no one popping out to say boo. In the dining room she looked for door to the hidden passageway. She entered, went past the first door to the second. She put her hand on the panel and took a deep breath.

  “You shouldn’t be doing this,” she said as she ignored her warning and pushed open the panel. The room was dark; Muriel lifted her candle up high and her mouth fell open in surprise.

  The room was quite spacious, with one large empty table in the middle, and numerous tables placed against the walls. All of those tables were filled with objects. There were numerous paintings on the wall, much more than the five reliefs Mrs. Temple had sent her after.

  “Don’t make this trip for nothing,” she said as she moved inside and held the candle high. In addition to the empty table in the middle there were two kneeling stands, like those found in a church, near the table.

  Muriel wondered what they were for, but knew now was not the time to examine them. The only thing she needed to really get a good look at was the reliefs. She went to the wall and examined the paintings. She didn’t recognize the first ones, which seemed to be Italian. They were of Rubenesque women having sex in groups of three or four.

  “Not what Mrs. Temple is looking for,” Muriel said as she moved along the wall. She passed French paintings, and framed Egyptian papyrus, and then she found what she was looking for—the five Fortuna reliefs. They were stunning in person, the colors much brighter than she’d expected them to be after all these years.

  She hoped she didn’t need to use the full amount of money that Mrs. Temple had sent ahead. She was once again assured of her success in purchasing them.

  The clock struck one, and Muriel started in surprise. She hadn’t realized she’d been here so long. She’d seen what she’d come for; now she needed to go upstairs, lock her door and go to sleep.

  “What a naughty woman you’re turning out to be.”

  Ewan’s voice seemed to run up her spine. She trembled and turned to him.

  “What are you doing here?” She prayed her voice was steady, but she knew it wasn’t.

  He was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

  “You didn’t answer me,” she said.

  “I could ask you the same thing.” He came into the room and closed the panel behind him. “Naughty, naughty, naughty. I guess you didn’t hear Philip when he said to behave ourselves.”

  “I think he said something about not getting into fights, which we are not.” She turned her back on him and looked down, and that’s when she saw what was on the table before her—a collection of marble dildos, ranging in size from small to large.

  “Oh my,” she said. Seconds later she felt his presence behind her.

  “I see what has attracted your attention,” he said. “Do you have a collection of your own at home?”

  She bit back a tart reply, then decided to let it rip. “Do you?”

  “Actually, yes,” he said. “They have a place of honor in my parlor and make for interesting dinner party conversation. Would you like to compare collections some time? Something in the I’ll show you mine if you show me yours vein?”

  “I have nothing to show,” she said, then she winced when she realized how that sounded.

  “I’d love to see some of the things you have to show.”

  “I need to go back to my room,” Muriel said. She tried to get past him but he put his arm out to block her way.

  “You’re a naughty girl,” he said.

  “You’re repeating yourself,” she said.

  “You’re helping yourself to a free preview,” he replied. “Naughty, naughty indeed.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?” she asked. “Or have you forgotten that you are here, too? Maybe you’re just a figment of my imagination. Maybe I’m dreaming.”
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  “You have such a smart mouth,” he said.

  “It goes with my brain,” she said, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Are you going to turn me into Philip for breaking the house rules?”

  “Maybe,” he said. He took a step closer. “Or maybe I am part of the house police and I should just punish you myself for breaking the rules.”

  They were close enough that she could see the lines on his lips, despite the fact the only light was from his candle, and hers. When he leaned over and kissed her, she moaned softly.

  “Is that the punishment?” she asked when the kiss broke.

  “Oh no, punishment is a spanking, or standing in the corner like a bad little girl.” He kissed her again, and she moaned again. This was not what she’d expected with her illicit outing, but it was a nice surprise.

  He kissed her one more time, then stepped back. He opened his mouth, and she hoped he was going to tell her they needed to go upstairs to make love, but a sound from the outside door caught their attention. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him as they rushed to the panel. They were barely on the other side when the door opened. Before the panel closed, Muriel caught a glimpse of Philip as he entered. She gasped when she saw Pansy, totally naked, come in behind him.

  “On your knees,” she heard Philip say through the panel.

  “Come with me,” Ewan whispered. He led her to the panel next to the dining room and pushed it open. She stepped inside after he indicated she should go in before him.

  “She’s naked,” she whispered.

  “You’re very observant,” he responded.

  “Why are we in this room instead of rushing upstairs?” She looked around, and it was then she noticed a mirror. But she couldn’t see her reflection. However, she could see inside the other room. Pansy was lighting the wall sconces.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “Quiet, or you’ll get us both caught,” Ewan said in her ear.

  “What is that?” she whispered, pointing to the mirror.