Punch's Cousin, Chapter 9

Julian sank into the down of his bed and pulled the coverlet up to his eyebrows. Peeking out, he watched the light begin to settle into his bedroom. The day yawned around him. Outside the window, the morning song of the birds taunted Julian. He could feel daybreak tugging at his blankets. Julian gripped the covers in his hands and held them close to his forehead.


The other part of Julian peered through the bed curtains. He was accustomed to the sensation of being in two places at once. The weight of his thin, but sturdy body, pulled him deeper into the cushion of feathers beneath him. Perhaps if he could flatten himself enough no one would notice he was still abed. He was almost invisible to himself. Almost.

Julian fluttered his eyelids and let the coverlet droop. He was back inside himself and began to take stock of what he was about to do. Arthur would be in presently—ready to offer the false warmth of a dressing gown, skittering to the grate to stir the fire, grandly extending unneeded assistance in suiting himself for the journey ahead.

He rolled onto his stomach and slipped one hand from beneath the warmth of his nightly shroud. With a quick motion, he grabbed his ring from off the bed stand and slipped it onto his left hand. Julian buried his face into the pillow and stifled a scream. His body vibrated and he imagined that his gut was filled with lightning. Flashes so fierce that they deadened his heart so that it sank like a stone into his bowels.

The door scraped open.

Julian didn’t move. Perhaps if he didn’t move, the footman would go away.

“Sir?”

That was not Arthur’s voice.

Still lying on his stomach, Julian turned his head on its throbbing neck and saw Mary approach him.

“Sir?”

“Mary?” Julian whispered. “What is it?”

“I know I’m wicked.” Mary said quietly. “It’s not fitting that I should be in here.” She stood several feet away and peered at him through the opening in the bed curtains.

Julian said nothing.

“I…” Mary stumbled with her words. “I…oh, it’s too awful, Sir.”

“Come on, girl.” Julian responded flatly. “It’ll be fine. Do tell me.”

“I do know somethin’.” Mary said. “I do know somethin’ I didn’t tell you. And, if Mrs. Foster were to find out…”

“No on need know, Mary.” Julian said to the trembling maid. He knew he should sit up and face her, but he didn’t dare disturb his body. He feared he’d spring apart if he moved.

“Only Lady Barbara, she did go on…” Mary sniffed. “One evenin’ last week, she went on about a woman, some woman in a place far away.”

“Iolanthe Evangeline?” Julian asked.

“Yes, Sir.” Mary nodded.

“Yes. I know that she’s gone to America to see this woman.” Julian replied gently.

“Lady Barbara said that this woman was going to open doors for her.” Mary continued. “And give her a place where she could be with other girls like herself, Sir.”

“Girls like herself? Whatever does that mean?” Julian asked.

“I dunno.” Mary shook her head. “Lady Barbara said that she would have all she ever desired thanks to this woman.”

Julian was silent for a moment. “I can’t imagine…” he said finally.

“There’s more, Sir.” Mary said.

“Yes?”

“Last night, Sir, after Lady Barbara went missing, I coulda sworn I saw somethin’ strange, Sir.”

“Go on.”

“Well, Sir.” Mary’s voice quaked. “I thought I saw Lady Barbara downstairs, Sir. She was in the scullery.”

“How odd. She couldn’t have been.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought, too, Sir. Only I thought I saw her with a bag. A canvas bag. And, in it was something that squirmed, Sir.” Mary whimpered. “Squirmed like it was a puppy or a cat or something. I looked away to see if anyone else coulda seen it, and when I looked back, I didn’t see nothin’. Like she wasn’t there at all.”

“Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks on you.” Julian said gently. “We’re all worried about Lady Barbara. Our thoughts, sometimes…when we’re preoccupied, they make pictures of things that…” Julian felt queasy. “Do you understand?”

“I dunno, Sir.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Julian answered, still on his stomach. “Is that all?”

“I think so, Sir.” Mary looked nervously over her shoulder. “I’d best get on my way before Arthur comes in. “

“Very well.” Julian smiled.

“Only…”

“I won’t mention to anyone that you were here.” Julian assured the girl.

“It’s not that, Sir. I just want to wish you a safe journey.” Mary said.

“Thank you.” Julian nodded.

With that, the maid scurried out of the room.

Julian shut his eyes.

He lay as still as stone and tried to blot out the intrusion of the light through the partially open bed curtains.

Julian had no idea how much time had passed. He hadn’t even heard the door open again. The sound of the metal rings of the bed curtains sliding all the way open made Julian’s pulse quicken. Yet, he did not open his eyes.

He felt a hand move slowly up his back and settle on his neck—a thick, rough hand with chipped nails that tickled Julian’s hair with a strange, deliberate gentleness.

“Lord Fallbridge?” Arthur oozed. “It’s time.”

Julian’s blood turned to ice.

 
Did you miss Chapters 1-8? If so, you can read them here.