She forced herself to smile when she saw Miss Rittenhouse standing there in her pale lavender bonnet. In her hands she held a basket which was overflowing with cakes and fruit. Her withered face was bruised on her left cheek.
“Miss Rittenhouse,” Agnes said to the Nanny. “To what do we owe this visit?”
“Begging you pardon, Mrs. Halifax, I’ve brought some sweeties and things that His Lordship always enjoyed for all of you to share on this fine morning. I hope you don’t mind my coming to the front of the house. I stopped around the rear and saw that the staff was in the midst of a little party. I didn’t wish to disturb them.”
“Do come in,” Adrienne said plainly.
From within the parlor, Mr. Punch sniffed the air.
“No.” He grunted, pulling Toby closer to him and clutching his new puppet with his other hand.
“What is it, Pun…” Robert began to say as he noticed Adrienne leading the nanny into the room.
“Miss Rittenhouse has brought some gifts for us.” Adrienne said, glancing quickly at her husband to indicate that she wished him to help her hurry Miss Rittenhouse out of their home.
“How kind of you,” Cecil said. “We’ll most happily accept them.” Cecil walked hurriedly toward the woman and took the basket from her hand.
“It’s all your favorite things, Your Lordship.” Nanny Rittenhouse said to Julian/Mr. Punch who remained seated on the floor with his dog and his puppet.
Robert, who was cradling baby Fuller, raised one eyebrow at the nanny. “I’m so surprised to see you again so soon after your last visit. You’ll recall the chat we had last night.”
“Of course. Everyone was quite excited. I’m sure it owed largely to the holiday today.” Miss Rittenhouse said. “I just couldn’t miss the chance to bring these special treats to His Lordship as I used to do when he was a boy. Oh, how you used to love little puddings and cakes.”
“You know what I like?” Mr. Punch grinned. “Sausages. That’s what I like.”
Cecil chuckled.
“I suppose one’s tastes do change as one becomes a man.” Nanny Rittenhouse responded, slightly flustered. “What have you got there? Is it a Mr. Punch like the one you had when you were a laddie?”
Punch grunted. “Havin’ a good time, we were.”
“And, so we shall,” Cecil said. “Thank you so much for your gift, Miss Rittenhouse.” He took the woman by the arm and led her to the entry hall.
“Oh, I’m not in a hurry.” The nanny protested.
“I’m terribly sorry to be so abrupt, however, as you can see, our infant son is sleeping. We don’t wish to wake him. I think he’s already been tired out by the festivities.”
“I know all about sleeping, babies, Sir.”
“I’m sure you do. And, you must be eager to return to little Afton and Master Rowan. I’m sure they’re missing their nanny on this fine Christmas morning. Good day to you and Happy Christmas.”
With that Cecil opened the door and ushered the woman out.
“Happy Christmas.” The nanny replied as the door closed in her bruised face.
Cecil sighed and walked back into the parlor. “Well, then. What shall I do with these?” He held the basket aloft. “Give them to the servants?”
“No ‘less you want ‘em to die.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “No doubt the lot of it is poisoned.”
“You don’t think that she’d do anything to harm us, do you?” Adrienne asked.
“Know she would.” Mr. Punch nodded. Julian’s shoulders slumped. Mr. Punch whispered to the puppet in his lap. “You know she would, don’t you me wooden-headed chum? You know what they’re like—them folk with their secrets.”
Adrienne looked nervously at the piano. “Shall we sing some carols?”
“Sing?” Mr. Punch raised Julian’s eyebrows. “I like to sing.”
“I think you should lead us, then, Mr. Punch.” Adrienne smiled, sitting at the piano.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Mr. Punch grinned, rising from the floor—puppet in hand. “Do we need to sing ‘bout just Christmas or will anything do?”
“Let’s start with Christmas and see where it takes us.” Cecil chuckled.
And, so, they began to sing. As they did, Robert eyed the basket which the nanny had brought. That’s when he had an idea.
Meanwhile, Nanny Rittenhouse hurried through the corridors into Ulrika’s room.
“Your quick arrival must mean you’ve failed again.” Ulrika said, looking up from the book she was reading.
“I gave them the basket.” Agnes Rittenhouse said shakily.
“I suppose that’s sufficient for now.” Ulrika frowned. She pointed to the book in her lap. “Do you know what this is?”
“No.” The nanny shook her head. “It’s quite interesting, really. It’s the writings of a German physician—Franz Anton Mesmer. Fascinating. It seems there’s a Scottish surgeon named James Braid. You see, he employs Mesmer’s teaching to influence people—to alter their thinking and their minds. Mesmerism, they call it.”
“Very interesting,” The nanny nodded, unsure of what Ulrika was talking about.
“This is something that I’d very much like to try.” Ulrika grinned.
“You don’t wish to do something to me, do you?” The nanny asked.
“You?” Ulrika laughed. “You old rotten sack, what good are you to me?” She shook her head. “No, bring me Arthur. He’ll do quite nicely.”
“I wouldn’t know where to find him.” The nanny answered.
“La Rue de la Marchands—with his whore bride. Bring them both here. I think this may just be the answer to all of these annoying little problems.” Ulrika grinned.
“You’d risk bringing Miss Allen into this house with everyone thinking she died in the fire?” The nanny asked.
“You’re clever. Find a way to do it.” Ulrika shouted. “Just don’t get caught. Or you’ll find yourself with a matching purple welt on the other side of your face, you stinking hag.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-93? If so, you can read them here.
4 comments:
It's almost like a Brothers Grimm scene to have the witch at the door with a basket of poisoned treats. But, somehow, this doesn't have any "storybook" quality to it. Rather chilling. I'm really very worried that the basket is still where an innocent party can get to it.
I hope Robert's idea includes destroying it.
Ulrika is just plain evil. She and Nanny Rittenhouse seem to care nothing for anyone but themselves.
It seems the Halifax family and Mr. Punch are too smart for them. I hope Robert's idea for what to do with the basket of cakes is a good one.
Hello Dashwood, yes, there is a sort of Grimm-ness to all of this. It's grim Grimm. Thanks for reading!
Hi Darcy! This is just the tip of Ulrika's iceberg of evil. Let's hope this is one iceberg they can avoid.
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