Robert glanced back at his companion, catching the bright twinkle of glee that Punch projected through Julian’s velvety, brown eyes.
“You’re looking rather pleased with yourself.” Robert said cautiously.
“Pleased as Punch.” Punch responded in Julian’s voice, adding his own brand of laughter to the end of the sentence.
Robert groaned.
“Come on, then,” Punch guffawed, “you know I’d have to say it eventually. And why shouldn’t I be pleased with me-self?”
Robert chose not to answer that.
“It’s not like Julian’s ever happy with his-self.” Punch continued to mutter. “Seems to me that one of us should have a little pride.”
“You may want to settle down a tad, Punch, old chap.” Robert warned the creature which walked on Julian’s legs beside him.
“Maybe I will. I want what I want, Doctor. And, I aim to get it.”
As they strode through the passage, they heard, from within one of the cabins, the faint cry of a baby.
Punch shuddered. “Don’t like babies, I don’t. Droolin’ little buggers—all wet and hungry.”
“As I recall, you’re not fond of infants, no.” Robert nodded, remembering all of the times he’d seen Mr. Punch in puppet shows in the park—committing horrific acts of infanticide before beating his puppet-wife with unparalleled glee. Robert paused, suddenly filled with dread. What was he doing? Who was he dealing with? Surely, no matter how suppressed, some of Julian’s sensibilities would be present even if Mr. Punch was the prominent persona. Surely!
“Does anyone else think it’s kind of funny that Julian’s sister went and got herself with child?” Punch asked.
“Funny how?” Robert asked.
“All them folks at Fallbridge Hall—all of ‘em ‘cept Julian—they’re so hungry and greedy. Just like babies themselves. Makes me what to smack the whole lot of ‘em.”
“You can’t do that.” Robert said firmly.
“Can if I want.” Punch grumbled.
“Only it’s not so easy once they’re grown. A baby, it don’t know what’s coming. Little boys do. Little boys know what’s comin’. They trust the big people to help ‘em. Only the big people don’t help. No, they don’t. They only worry about what’s gonna hurt them.”
Suddenly, Robert became overwhelmed by fear. “This must be what Julian feels, each and every moment,” he thought to himself. “How dreadful for him.”
Robert gently pushed Mr. Punch against the wall of the passage. He had a great desire to put his arms around this thing that looked so much like Julian, hoping that, once again, the warmth of his touch could return Julian to him. But, he knew he dared not.
“Here! What’re you doin’?”
“Listen to me, Mr. Punch.” Robert said plainly. “We are two men on a mission. We cannot be diverted from it.”
“Ain’t a man.” Punch grinned.
“You are!” Robert hissed. “Your mind may not be, but you are in the body of a man!”
“Me head!” Punch moaned. “Me head is split and empty.”
“Stop it!” Robert ordered.
Punch’s eyes widened in animal satisfaction. “Givin’ me orders, are ya?”
“Yes.” Robert put his hands on Julian’s shoulders.
“You want to be avenged for whatever harm has been done to you. Yes?”
“Yes.” Punch nodded Julian’s head.
“You want to see that the people who ‘split your head’ are brought to justice. Similarly, you want to ensure that Julian is avenged for whatever it is that’s been done to him. Yes?”
“Yes.” Punch whispered.
“We want to do all of that and return Lady Barbara from the clutches of that wicked woman who so abused my brother’s wife. That and we want to ensure that Julian can be free to live a life of his own—doing what he loves.”
“I ‘spose.” Punch answered.
“Our goals are legion! Too many to leave them to chance and sloppiness. We must execute this with dignity and calm. Do you understand?”
“I do.” Punch winked. “Only you said ‘execute.’”
“Miss Rittenhouse’s cabin is there.” Robert pointed, letting go of Julian’s shoulders. “We shall go now and do this and you will follow my example and speak the words we agreed upon—as His Lordship would.”
“I ‘spose you’ll be wanting to have me call you, ‘Master’ now.”
“No. Julian is your master. And, don’t you ever forget it.” Robert answered forcefully.
“I’m me own master.” Punch mumbled.
Robert narrowed his eyes.
“Very well,” Punch shook his head, answering in Julian’s voice. “Let us, forthwith, pay our respects to the lady.”
“Good.” Robert grunted.
They walked a few yards further and Robert knocked on the narrow door of the cabin.
Nanny Rittenhouse opened the door quickly, as if she had been standing in front of it waiting for them.
They entered. The cabin smelled of roses.
Without her hat and veil, Robert could see the woman’s face clearly for the first time. Her countenance was quilted with the lines of pain and worry. Her steely eyes, shrouded beneath valances of crepe-like skin, had no luster. A “V’ of crags pinched her forehead just above the sharpness of her nose. Topped with an upswept mass of gray curls, she had the look of a decayed paper cone of sugar-dusted sweets.
“Your Lordship,” She bowed her head toward Julian, “Dr. Halifax, I was most surprised to receive your message.”
“Well, then, Miss Rittenhouse,” Robert said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster, “It would have been rude of us not to pay a call on a woman who figured so prominently in Lord Julian’s upbringing.”
“My friend is most correct,” Punch added in Julian’s manner. “We have so much about which to reminisce.”
“Yes,” The nanny responded nervously.
“You know, Nanny,” Punch continued. “I can’t help but notice your scent. Every year at the Hall, just as the roses are fading and their aroma is thick throughout the gardens, I do think of you.”
“Oh, well, Sir.” The nanny nodded.
“I understand that you also took care of young Lady Barbara when she was a girl?” Robert asked.
“I did. Ah, but she was a beautiful and headstrong lass.”
“You mentioned earlier,” Robert began, “that you knew of Lady Barbara leaving Fallbridge Hall to set sail for America. In fact, you mentioned that you saw her on the docks as we departed.”
“Yes, sir.” The nanny nodded. “I shouldn’t have said that. You know as one ages, her mind plays tricks on her. I must have had Lady Barbara in my thoughts and seeing a similarly lovely woman put me in mind of young Barbara. I regret mentioning it. My deepest apologies for bothering you with it. Sometimes, even I, can be influenced by the idle chatter of people around me. That’s been weighing on my mind ever since I said it. I’m so glad that you have come here today so that I might offer my sincere apology for having uttered such nonsense.” She spoke quickly and with considerable effort.
“So, you’re saying you should have kept your observation a secret?” Punch asked, though his tone and cadence was still that of Lord Fallbridge.
Robert looked at him cautiously.
Punch continued despite his friend’s warning. “Doctor, you see, nannies, by their general nature are very good at keeping secrets. That’s part of their craft. Or, craftiness, I should say.”
“Whatever do you mean, Sir?” Nanny Rittenhouse asked, her withered gray of her cheeks soaking in the pinkish hue of anxiety.
“Don’t you recall?” Punch asked, still impersonating Julian.
“Well, of course, you and I had our little secrets when you were a boy. Like the time that you broke the handle on the vase in the drawing room. Or, when you would sneak extra teacakes from the server.”
Punch raised Julian’s hand and reached into his coat.
Robert noticed the glint of the paperknife’s cool silver.
“Yes, dear, dear Nanny, many secrets.” Punch continued, the harsh sound of his own voice creeping into his speech. “So many secrets. Bleedin’ many…”
“It’s only natural,” Robert said, casually walking toward Punch/Julian, “that growing up, a nanny and her ward would have some small confidences.”
Robert hooked his arm around Punch’s.
“You know,” Robert said quickly, “you did a fine job raising this man. I’ve grown awfully fond of him.”
Using the strength of one arm, Robert pressed firmly against Julian’s elbow.
The paperknife clattered to the floor of the cabin.
“Oh, dear, what is that?” Nanny Rittenhouse exclaimed.
“Don’t you know?” Punch asked, his own voice clear as day, “You are familiar with all manner of knives, aren’t you?”
Did you miss Chapters 1-30? If so, you can read them here.
7 comments:
Nanny Rittenhouse is up to no good. But in the end I think she's no match for Mr. Punch, Dr. Halifax, and Lord Julian. What are we in for when the ship docks in New Oreans? I can't wait to find out. This is great!
You know I agree with you Darcy. I think maybe Robert should let Punch stab her. Who could stop him. What are you going to do? He's a puppet. What's this secret already? There's too much I have to know. I don't want to wait.
Little old nannies just don't show up on ships to the New World simulantaneously with a former charge and in pursuit of another. This old dame is trouble. Don't know the story yet and I know it isn't right but I wouldn't mind seeing her chucked over the side. Neater that way.
Hi Darcy! It's always nice to see your comments. I have a feeling Lord Julian's visit to the "Big Easy" won't be so "easy."
Hello Fran! Glad to "see" you! You're right, what can you do with a puppet? Punch is sort of child-like in hiw own way. He could benefit from a good nanny--certainly not Nanny Rittenhouse, but a good one. One who would teach him not to buy his paper knives retail.
You are absolutely correct, Dashwood. And, I'm sure Mr. Punch would appreciate the sentiment.
Keep up the great work!
Post a Comment