The door swung open eagerly and a homely woman—overdressed in silk in feathers—glowered out at them.
“Whatchu wantin’?” The woman growled.
Imitating Lord Julian, Punch responded. “I’d like to see the mistress of the house.”
“Got a lot of mistresses here,” The woman cackled. “Which one ya want?”
“The proprietress—Miss Evangeline.” Punch answered in Julian’s voice.
“She don’t see no people off da street.” The woman pulled back her lips to reveal a black hole where he front teeth might have been.
“She’ll see me.” Punch answered in the way he thought Julian would. “I am Julian, Lord Fallbridge.”
“I see.” The woman whistled through her missing teeth. “I am Mala. So charmed to meet ya, Mr. Fallbridge.”
“Lord Fallbridge,” Punch corrected her. “My surname is Molliner.”
“Come right on in and we’ll see about getting someone for to take care of you.” Mala cackled again.
Punch and Naasir walked through the door into a surprisingly spacious outdoor courtyard anchored by a sputtering fountain in the middle of the decorative brick floor. Three French doors lined the back wall through which a crimson room filled with velvet chairs and gold-fringed drapery could be seen.
“Your man’s gonna have to stay out here.” Mala pointed to Naasir.
“No.” Punch said. “He comes with me.”
“Can’t.” Mala spat. “’S gotta stay out here.”
“I must come with His Lordship,” Naasir spoke up.
“Dem’s the rules.” Mala argued.
“Let him come in, Mala.” A woman hissed from the center set of doors. She was the woman from the docks—dressed in purple silk with long lavender gloves which clung to her arms as if they’d been swallowed by shining violet snakes.
“We want our visitors from abroad to feel welcome.” The woman continued.
“Miss Evangeline,” Mala spoke quickly. “You know how the law feels ‘bout dese things.”
“Mala, if the law were to come in here, they’d have a damn sight more to argue about than whether or not we let a colored man in the house.” Iolanthe Evangline laughed. “Besides, we already got two policemen here. They don’t seem to have any complaints. And, I certainly don’t want my guests—who have traveled so far to come here—to think that we’re ungracious. Now, go fetch the water for my bath!”
“Yes’m.” Mala nodded before trotting off.
“Do come in, Your Lordship.” Iolanthe Evangeline wiggled a finger at Naasir and Julian/Punch.
“Your girl is very dedicated.” Punch responded in Julian’s voice.
“All my girls are loyal.” The Elegant Ogress smiled coyly as they came into the parlor.
“What do you think of my humble establishment?” She asked.
“I think it’s exactly what one might expect.” Punch answered as he thought Julian might.
“So, what brings the fine Englishman to my home? I know it’s not because you’re looking for some company.” Iolanthe smiled.
“You know very well what brings me here.” Punch answered.
“Well, I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m disagreeable. But, you aren’t goin’ to get what you want.” Miss Evangeline grinned. “Our newest girl ain’t arrived yet. She’s off on other business. So, why don’t you make yourself at home and have a nice talk with me? I’m not so bad to look at am I? Even if I am a quadroon. I’m the prettiest of my kind. And, I’m nice and soft.” She reclined on a plush, scarlet chaise and laughed.
Punch scowled.
“Though from what I can gather of you, Your Lordship, you don’t much care for soft things. Do you?” The ogress continued.
“I don’t much care for you.” Punch said, his own voice creeping into his speech. “It’s a pretty color that red. Isn’t it? The color of blood.”
“My second favorite color.” Iolanthe Evangeline whispered.
“Where’s his sister?” Punch asked.
“His?” Iolanthe laughed. “Oh, yes, I forgot, you royal men like to speak of yourselves as if you’re talkin’ ‘bout someone else.”
“Where is she?” Punch shouted.
“Sir,” Naasir interrupted. “Do calm yourself. Remember who you are.”
“Here,” Punch continued to shout. “I know bloody well who I am. I’m here for that Barbara. She’s got what’s mine. She’s got the thing what she took from me and cleaved my head for!”
Punch reached into Julian’s pocket and withdrew the carving knife he’d taken from the house on Royal Street. The blade glinted against the light of the sparkling glass chandeliers.
“Mr. Punch!” Naasir reached for Julian’s arm.
Iolanthe Evangeline clapped her hands twice—sharply.
From behind the velvet drapes, two hulking men appeared.
“Now, now,” Iolanthe clucked her tongue. “Even if you are a royal man, you can’t be rowdy in my house.”
She nodded her head at the two men. “Boys, take these two gentlemen to my rooms and make them ready for me. I’ll be along shortly.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-41? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 43 of Punch’s Cousin.
4 comments:
This is getting very scary and now we have to wait until Monday! Great story!
I do NOT want to wait for Monday for this to move along. I like weekends as much as anybody but Sundays are getting difficult.
Thank you for a wonderful story.
Thank you, Darcy!
Hi Dashwood. Sorry about the wait. It gives Punch a chance to rest up before he goes back to work. I'm very pleased you're enjoying the story. Thank you.
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