Dear Reader: I have re-worked my initial story for this "M" version, taking editing suggestions from my several correspondents on the counterpoint between the mystery plot and the relationship dynamics, hoping to get the balance "right" for a stronger story. I have never done a re-write before, so that is the "new" thing I am doing with this story, as I always try to do at least one thing I have never done before, each time I write.
If you have read the other version (or are willing to), I am searching for feedback on my re-write-editing process—is this a better story- and if yes or no, what made it so in your opinion? Inquiring minds want to know. I only get better with your help, for which I am endlessly grateful-rg
A/N: Suspension of disbelief required if you are familiar with the Niagara Peninsula or Canadian court systems (and probably cycling too.) For this story I have the same three confessions:
1) I am guilty of plagiarism—I stole this plot, a character name in homage, and pieces of dialogue from a 1916 short story by Melville Davisson Post, and adapted it with a twist for W & J;
2) For purposes of the story, I have also committed assault and probably murder on the circa 1900 Canadian judicial system and;
3) Ditto for a very nice area of the Niagara Peninsula. Sorry, neighbors. My excuse is: "The Story Made Me Do It."
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Before the Vineyards
-Chapter 1-
Monday
"Julia! Honestly, what has gotten into you?" William Murdoch was trying very hard to project a stern image, but watching his wife giggle and romp with delight only made him feel even sillier and want to join her in the dark water - considering resisting her usually took all his resources anyway. The day had been hot with glorious sun beating down on them riding east across the long flat plain of land skirting Lake Ontario from Hamilton (where they had a fine picnic luncheon by a lovely waterfall), to their current location outside of Grimsby. The terrain was perfect for riding, their route weaving inland and the back along the beach through agricultural lands, past the occasional hamlet. The pair could have made the forty or so total miles to Port Dalhousie (which had been their original plan) but instead were intrigued by the possibility of hearing an evening lecture by Mr. Thomas Troward on comparative religions, offered at the Grimsby Park and Beach Chautauqua Methodist Campground. Unfortunately the speaker cancelled at the last minute, leaving William and his wife with nothing to do and insufficient time to get to their intended destination, and nowhere to lodge.
A small campfire sheltered between two clumps of trees along the sand was the only illumination along this stretch of lakeshore. Accompanied by a slight southerly breath of air, it remained warm even at such a late hour. There was no moon and the stars were obscured by high thick clouds, so for light William fed small pieces of driftwood to the flames. Propped up against one of the boles was their tandem bicycle and its trailer, where William had devised a canopy for shelter with the intention of sleeping there for the night, at Julia's insistence.
"It's an adventure, William!" she had said, "ever so much better than the last time I spent a night out in the open, which was alone and without you in the cold." He could not deny that the harrowing experience Julia endured rescuing him from God-knows-what-end the sick mind of Eva Pearce was envisioning, deserved an accommodation on his part. So, camp out they would. Behind them to the south at 60-plus meters high, left over from the last ice age, the Niagara Escarpment loomed over Grimsby with Lake Ontario stretching north, its soft waves barely moving. Dinner had been a mean affair of bread and cheese leftover from their lunch; however they were so hungry from cycling the food quality did not matter. William even purchased the last offerings from two street vendors and was seriously contemplating finding a cottage to beg a handout, as he had become suddenly ravenous.
"William! Come join me!" Julia beckoned from the water's edge where she was twirling and splashing, her long pale bare legs contrasting with the inky darkness, and the glow from a lit cigarette in her hand making fascinating, lingering patterns on his retinas. "The water is refreshing. I am thinking of just taking this whole cycling costume off and finding my one for swimming. We did pack it, did we not?" she laughed and trudged out of the water and over to where William was sitting on a blanket, and handed him the short, thin cigarette.
That bathing costume, which had been a seemingly endless source of conflict while planning their trip (along with the rest of the luggage strapped to their small trailer), now appeared to be a good idea to her husband, who considered pulling swimming gear for both of them out of a duffel secured with rubber straps to the trailer basket. He took another pull on the cigarette before passing back it over to Julia as she sat beside him, letting a harsh rush of air into lungs unfamiliar with the practice, yet enjoying the pleasant euphoria produced by the smoke.
The smoking materials had been another source of brief friction between them as well. Ruby had mailed them to Julia with a short note, extolling the virtues of several vices, including this one. William disliked being in the presence of smoking of any kind, let alone partake; Julia who generally concurred with him, avoided tobacco if at all possible. However excitement about trying something new, with some suggestion her sister made about the effects of indulging for non-medicinal purposes, outweighed Julia's objections on this occasion. He had no idea she was going to bring it on this trip. Originally, William tried to generously refuse so that Julia could enjoy it all herself, but his wife insisted that it was best done as a shared experience. And Julia does love her experiences, he grinned. He had told himself he would politely bear it as an experiment to satisfy curiosity.
He exhaled. Another good idea after all, he thought while examining the novel effect firelight was currently having on his wife's curls. He still did not enjoy the action on his lungs and windpipe, but the mind-altering effects were intriguing, with none of the downsides of alcohol, as far as he could tell. Although not intriguing enough to turn me into an habitué, he promised himself. On the other hand, his fascination with the highlights and shadows dancing in her hair was quite compelling as he followed a silken thread which escaped from her braid as it undulated in the small breeze. He smiled at her, stroking a hand along her arm, feeling each of her light hairs tingle and vibrate his fingertips. William inhaled fresh night air. "I recognize the odor; terpenes I believe. Tetra-hydro-cannabinol, you say?"
Julia giggled again. "I bet you cannot say that three times fast." Of course, they proceeded to try with, to her mind, hilarious results. William, who never could tell a joke with a punch line, then tried to entertain her with some burlesque puns and witticisms, and for some reason she found his delivery to be hysterically funny, especially when he tried to make a joke about a three headed water dog out of the name for the drug with which they were currently experimenting.
She took a long drag on the remaining butt and held her breath a moment before exhaling. "Yes, the psycho-active compound. Cannabis sativa I believerather than Cannabis indica. Ruby did not say where she got it, only that I should try it and that you should join me." She crushed out the smoke then leaned against him, reaching over to rummage in their food basket, her hip moving along his. "I don't think it is having any effect on me at all—so disappointing. I thought she was going to send something more bizarre like oil of hashish or an herb from her latest trip to India or even coca leaves." She brought out the remaining victuals – a broken package of McVitie's Digestives, with half of a Hershey's Milk Chocolate Bar, a new exotic treat that had travelled with them since getting off the train in Hamilton and which had somehow escaped predation until now.
Julia waved the chocolate bar. "This is not much to eat, William," then broke into a fit of laughter as the upright wrapper bent suggestively. Much to her surprise, her husband started to giggle as well; she had heard him laugh, occasionally uproariously, but the particular titter emanating from his lips at the moment just set her into another paroxysm at the thought of her husband being intoxicated when she was perfectly sober and clear headed. "Oh, William!" she gasped as he reached over to compete with her for the goodies. "Let me have that. I am starving…." She met his face with hers and saw his eyes reflected the gleam of the campfire. I never noticed the exact colour of his eyes like that before, she thought as the fire lit up chocolate-brown depths. Food was temporarily forgotten.
William pulled her down to his lap and found her mouth for a long, languid kiss. When he felt her give up all resistance and melt into him, he broke away and answered, "So am I…" with a low, husky voice. His mind felt both relaxed and aware while his senses seemed to be glowing somehow. Along with that sensation, his physical desire for Julia, never in short supply, seemed particularly insistent, so much so the fact they were essentially publically displayed on an open beach under a makeshift lean-to, did not deter him from turning Julia on her back and running his hands intimately over her person before resuming the kiss. I assume this is one of the vices enumerated in Ruby's letter, he thought vaguely.
Julia responded with her own fingers twining in his hair and following the curves of his neck and shoulders. She pushed him away only reluctantly. "There might be a night watch or patrol to keep the riff raff off this nice beach." She snickered again and looked around furtively, before giving an excited grin. "We should at least put the fire out…"
William rolled over, and picked up the snacks before they could be crushed or scattered. "In a moment. I have an idea…" He located the last of their treasures, another unusual food purchase from a French Confectioner's in Hamilton, after being tempted by a free sample. While Julia put a half dozen in a bag to satisfy her sweet tooth, William had spoken to the maker of the squares of Pain de Sucre or Guimauve, more interested inthe chemistry behind their creation. They did not fare well in the heat either, but William had a notion. He took a green stick off a nearby tree and threaded one of the Guimauve onto an end and set it over some of the coals. In no time the sugar treat puffed up to became soft and yielding, yet browning nicely. He set a digestive down, a square of chocolate on it and then the toasted sugar on top, finishing off with new biscuit to make a sandwich. He handed the sticky mess to Julia who took a tiny bite then a larger one as her face lit into a smile.
"My, this is delicious. Mr. Murdoch I do declare you are a genius at times. No wonder I married you…" Julia smiled warmly with only the slightest bit of sticky residue on her face. "Can you make me another one?"
Her husband was in the process of making his own sugar and chocolate sandwich when the Guimauve he was working onignited. He brought it up to his lips to blow the flames out, disappointed he ruined his morsel, but put it between the biscuits anyway and tasted it. "Hmmm. Not bad." He handed her the stick. "You want some more? Here, Mrs. Murdoch, you try it," he offered while licking his thumb and forefinger. He reached over to her chin with his thumb to erase a dot of chocolate, an intimate gesture he would never have attempted under different circumstances.
Julia gazed lovingly at William, who was looking relaxed and happy in a way she had never quite seen him before: shirt with no collar and open at the neck, sleeves rolled, shoes and socks off, hair blown back by the wind, sitting cross legged on a blanket eating strange food. It caused her to recall the life he had before becoming a member of the constabulary involved plenty of dirt and physical labour. He usually held on to his propriety, so when he adapted so easily to her suggestion to "camp out" it initially surprised her. She realized that she had been unfairly pigeon-holing him as needing an airing out. Why do we women often think our men are in need of adjustment or a little fixing up? Ridiculous! she told herself. We should be attracted to them the way they are, not as we want them to be. Her imagination started running away from her and she laughed again, while turning her stick over the coals and trying to see if the dessert was cooking properly.
Her laugh set his off again. "Julia? What's so funny?"
"I was imagining you trying to perfect toasting one of these things over your Bunsen burner… the sticky stuff wouldn't dare get on one of Detective William Murdoch's beautiful suits..." Julia pointed out a drip that had fallen on his trouser leg, as her own sugar square burst into flames, signally a new round of chuckles. They managed to get all the available sandwiches assembled and eaten after which Julia pouted that she was still hungry.
William reached over again to hold her jaw in his right hand and kiss her mouth, laying them down while nesting their bodies. When he leaned away again he was panting lightly. "Yes," he said, finding her eyes with his and lowering his lashes, letting hunger of a different kind show. "If you will recall, and as you are aware by now I have nearly perfect recall…I believe you owe me a certain, ah-hemm, chance upon which I never collected…" He gestured to the blanket and their position together.
"William! A tryst..? Here…?" Julia's mind went immediately to how seldom she would have these kinds of adventures with William after starting a family. Underlying Julia's intention for coming along on this trip was to talk about adoption again, without any influence (or interference) from peers, friends, or work. Construction on their home was proceeding, slowly, and between their professions and the requirements for the house, they had spent very little time with each other lately. The heartache after Roland left was less tender now, and privately she wondered if an infant was really the best choice for them, having experienced caring for Roland first hand, as marvelous as that had been. Becoming parents was going to be a different undertaking this time, deliberatively, with eagerness tempered by caution. Julia knew a great deal of unsaid thoughts and feelings needed exploring, and that William would need her prompting to address them—Whether he wanted to or not… .
She reoriented herself towards William. That is for another time, she decided. Right now I am alone with my husband with no obligations other than to our pleasure. A giggle bubbled up. Considering he is demonstrating a willingness to throw his habitual reticence and caution aside, how can I refuse? She surveyed the area and saw no potential interference from any direction, then challenged him with her eyes, accompanied by a wicked smile.
William let go of her to scoop some sand onto the dying fire, plunging them into absolute blackness, and then slid himself back under their tarp, calling Julia to join him, tucked away in a deep recess where a second blanket was spread. Neither could see the other in the night. Julia stood and shook out the fireside blanket, making her way over by listening to his entreaty, and when she found him she covered them both as she lay beside her husband. "Julia," William said with a smile warming his voice as he adjusted the cloth to hide their bodies, "all I ask is that you never tell Ruby the results of this particular experiment." He felt her nodding vigorously, as her busy, familiar hands made quick work of his shirt and braces, whilst he explored her corset-less bodice and hips beneath her cycling outfit. "And afterwards we will clean up in the lake, with or without your bathing costume..."
Being unable to see Julia was disorienting at first for William. He adored the sight of her long, lean form, the flow of her curves under his gaze. Her legs, so long, curvy and glorious for me to caress, he recalled somewhat smugly. He usually loved placing kisses on her most tender and excitable areas of skin, watching her face change as she became aroused under his attentions. Tonight, the entire sensory experience of being with Julia was altered, not just by the Cannabis but by the darkness as well. He hadn't quite realized exactly how sight-dependent making love with her was, he was, until being utterly deprived of that ability with the unusually black night; instead his other senses seemed amplified in compensation. Her small sounds drew his enhanced attention, her scent drove his elation, his fingers transmitted more than simple touch to his brain which swirled with sensory stimuli, demanding he have her skin to skin with him… and more, much more.
He managed all the buttons on her tunic and cycling bloomers, allowing her to shuck them off while he got out of his shirt and trousers, but he was stymied by her underclothes—not recalling if they buttoned, tied or came off over her head. "Julia...I will need some help here," he asked.
"William, you are usually good at these things," she teased back, before realizing her mistake in pointing out his present difficulties with fine motor skills. She quickly understood his dilemma: the thin satin bows were lovely to look at, but devilish to unwind even with being able to see them. She did her best to shimmy out of the garments, before pressing herself naked along William's side and throwing a leg over his torso to get as close as possible.
In lieu of his gaze, he allowed his hand to find and trace the flow of her curves, the point of her hip and lower belly, just brushing her short curls, the contacts creating dark sparks of delicious energy between them. Dipping his arms to draw lines with his fingers along her thighs, he got a throaty hum from her in appreciation. He stretched his hands to cup her buttocks and pull her onto his body, bringing her head further up towards his, running the tip of his tongue along her salty flesh, until he became aware of her neck, the underside of her chin and her ear, hidden in the dark like a treasure hunt. She shivered at his touch and sunk closer into him while he tenderly sucked and nipped the space below her ear where her artery pulsed. He allowed his hand to dance along her ribcage and find a breast, gently circling a nipple with his finger before kneading the soft flesh.
"Oh, my," she a said. "You always find your mark." His actions triggered a fresh round of tingles to her core and a flood of wetness in anticipation of his next moves.
"I had a good teacher." He offered, in between repositioning his mouth, recalling a time when he was perhaps more tentative and less experienced in what was pleasing to his wife. He placed her on her side, and moved his head to kiss an imaginative path to her breast and lick and torture the most delicate spots with his tongue, pulling the firm nipple into his mouth until it took her breath away in a gasp.
"Oh…yes. You were an adept pupil as I recall. Mmm…" she sighed in pleasure. She was finding the lack of light, the anonymity, oddly exciting. "The darkness is interesting, is it not?" she commented.
William stopped briefly in his new pursuit of kissing her entire torso. "Yes, a new experience for you…"
"I suppose in the dark, you could be anyone, any lover I might imagine," she teased.
William paused. "Is that so? I am not sure I like the sound of that. I would know it was you, anywhere. You are quite distinctive…"
She laughed at his momentarily affronted tone, imagining how his face was probably quirked with displeasure. "But William, there is no one I want but you. Never any one but you. Besides, even though I cannot see you, I know it is you as well. I'd know your features, your hair, your smell, anywhere." Julia ran her hand over his face, fanning his long lashes with her thumb, stroking his strong arms and smooth chest, outlining the muscles she knew so well, while grazing her fingers on his abdominals as she felt them ripple and contract under her touch. She shifted and let her hand drop to his groin. With the back of her hand, she gently stroked the velvet skin of his arousal from base to tip, getting an answering sound from his throat and decided reaction from his hips. "I certainly know what it feels like when we connect. It is like nothing else in the world when you fill me." She brought her hand firmly down, surrounding his manhood with her palm and fingers, the friction of her hand stiffening his flesh. She squirmed against his thigh, and moved out of the way for one of his hands to explore her feminine entrance, so familiar with her architecture, building her desire with his fingers. As he touched her with expert strokes, she felt him draw fully erect and hard in her hand. "I can imagine it right now," she said in a desperate whisper.
So can I….Oh, so can I, William agreed. He heard her breathing, rapid and shallow with want. He smelled the intoxicating scent of her need, so much more mind-altering than any drug could ever be. He felt her melting in expectation, her hopeful trembling. That knowledge, those recollections, these sensations surged abruptly through him, pumping his heart, sending desire skyrocketing. Blind or no, his excited instincts took over, rolling her beneath him and situating her knees on either side of his compact hips. This was when they usually connected eye to eye as well as body to body, encouraging each other with a look; in the dark he had none of those clues. Instead he felt her pelvis sway and rise in anticipation, so accepted the summons, finding her silken opening and plunging in with one exquisitely long thrust. A low sound of gratification escaped him when he was fully inside of her; a firm key settled into an intimate satin lock, ready to open them both up and release bliss. "Yes…." He murmured, drawing in deep lung-fulls of air as he rocked slowly in and out of her luscious, wet center. Unable to see her, his brain diverted its massive powers of detailed observation to the delicious awareness of her depths as he moved within them, as waves of electricity flowed from there throughout his entire body, slicking him with sweat, surging the voltage higher in anticipation of an ultimate, powerful discharge.
Julia allowed an equally long moan before moving in counterpoint against his developing rhythm, adjusting her respirations to match his, lust coiled in her belly demanding rapid relief. Before Julia lost all capacity for reason, she had a brief flash of humour about how pleased Ruby would be regarding the results of her gift…It was too bad she'll never know…
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So, Dear Reader: Thank you for choosing my story. There is a mystery yet to unfold and exploration of their ideas about family and decision to adopt. I am hoping you will read to the end, after which will you write/review? If you are stopping at the end of this chapter and go no further, please tell me why — The writers of these stories get statistical feedback from the website, and about 50% of readers who start one of my stories never go beyond the first chapter. Is the story boring? The writing stiffer than concrete? You hate my characterization? You only like one-shots? If you don't want to publish as a review, private message me… That is how I will get better at writing, with your feedback—what you like, what you didn't—I will grow as a writer, with your help…for which I am grateful. Thank you-b
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