“Here!” Mr. Punch said angrily. “You don’t belong in here, you don’t.”
“I belong wherever I wish to be.” Iolanthe Evangeline answered sharply. “Is that Adrienne’s child?”
Mr. Punch held Fuller tightly. “You’re not to look at him.”
“He’s a fine looking little boy,” Iolanthe grinned.
“You can’t have this one.” Mr. Punch spat. “This one ain’t for sale. Go see that Barbara Allen if you’re wantin’ more babies to sell.”
“I’ve not come here for babies, Lord Fallbridge.” Iolanthe said coyly.
“Why have you come here, then?” Mr. Punch asked.
“It’s Christmas. I’ve come to pay a call on old friends.”
“No one here’s a friend of yours, Ogress.” Mr. Punch growled. Toby barked.
“Don’t call me that!” Iolanthe spat. “That is an unkind name. I don’t like it and I don’t want you thinkin’ I do. What makes me a monster? Hmmm? Just because I’ve got a good head for business? On a man, they’d call it brilliance. On me, they call it devious.”
“You are devious. You’re a devil, you are. And, I always beat the devil.” Mr. Punch said firmly. “Every time.”
“You won’t beat me, Lord Fallbridge.” Iolanthe winked. “No one can. Besides, you have no reason to beat me. I’m your friend. We’re not so different, you and I.”
“Yes, we are.” Punch frowned. “And, I’ll tell you why you’re called ‘ogress,’ it’s cuz you hurt people what’s done nothin’ to ya!”
“I don’t deny that I’ve hurt people. But, only those who’ve wronged me first.”
“What about me pa?” Mr. Punch asked. “Had him killed, you did. He didn’t do nothin’ to ya!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you lunatic.”
“Sir Colin Molliner. Had him killed! You’re the reason he’s dead!” Mr. Punch cried.
“Well, then, is that what you’ve been told?” Iolanthe smiled. “That clever little witch. I suppose your sister has told you that. Well, you fool, I had nothing to do with Sir Colin Molliner’s death. I must confess that his murder was convenient for me, but it wasn’t at my request.”
“You’re a liar!” Mr. Punch said.
“Am I?” Iolanthe laughed. “I suppose I am. However, I’m not lying about this and I don’t want you thinkin’ that I am.”
“Just get yourself out of this house.” Mr. Punch demanded.
“Not until I’ve paid my call upon my former associate and her husband. Who knew that a sculptor could be such a good shot? I suppose he’d have to have steady hands. I see you have a new toy for yourself.” She pointed to the puppet in Mr. Punch’s lap. “Did the sharp-shooting Mr. Halifax make that for you? It’s quite fine.”
“He’s none of your concern.” Mr. Punch frowned.
“You’re rather like a child yourself. Aren’t you?” Iolanthe said. “I’ll tell you a secret, Lord Fallbridge. I rather like children. I have one of my own. A boy. I don’t get to see him very often, but I like knowing that he exists.”
“Didn’t sell him?” Mr. Punch asked.
“Not my own son, no.” Iolanthe smiled, but her smile quickly faded. “Besides, his is a face that…” She paused. “He’s different, let’s say.”
“Who’s his father?” Mr. Punch asked coldly. “In your trade, I ‘spose, it’d be hard to know.”
“Yes, you are a child.” Iolanthe frowned. “A child in a man’s body. You’re sharp, I’ll give you that. What a strange creature you are.” She walked across the room, “Where’s Adrienne?”
“I wouldn’t tell you. Not never!” Mr. Punch said.
“You know I’ll find her. We have a score to settle. Several, in fact. First Adrienne, and then her English husband. Speaking of which…” She grinned again. “Where’s your companion? Usually he’s glued to your side—watching over you to keep you from becoming too wild.”
Mr. Punch swallowed hard as he recalled Robert who had gone upstairs in pursuit of the nanny.
“Not talking?” Iolanthe smirked. “No matter.” She sat down on the settee by the piano. “I shall wait here.”
A terrible anger rose in Mr. Punch, but he tried to suppress it since he was still holding the baby. Toby continued to growl at Iolanthe.
“Isn’t it interesting how everything is so loyal to you?” Miss Iolanthe chuckled. “Your dog, your companion, his family, even your servant—that Voodoo priest. Yet your own family could not care less about you. You should hear the things your sister has said about you. The names she’s called you. And, her husband! He positively loathes you. What makes one group of people so loyal to a man while his own kin abhors him? Perhaps it’s because you’re mad. Perhaps it’s because you’re wild—like me. You know, Lord Fallbridge, you don’t have to return to England. With Leon dead, I need someone to help me. You’re clever, but foolish enough to be destructive. It’s the perfect combination. Just like ‘The Professor.’ Just like me.”
“I ain’t nothin’ like you and neither is me master!” Mr. Punch whispered angrily.
“Your master?” Iolanthe chuckled. “Who’s your master?”
“Julian!” Mr. Punch blurted out without thinking.
“Aren’t you Julian?” Iolanthe smiled. “No, you’re not, are you? You’re someone else. You really are one of those lunatics, aren’t you? You think you’re two different people.”
Mr. Punch began to tremble, holding the baby tightly.
“Now, now,” Iolanthe grinned. “You’re shaking. Perhaps you’d best let me hold the child. I’ll take such good care of him. Just as if he was my own.”
Mr. Punch’s eyes widened in rage.
At that very moment, upstairs, Robert was grabbing Agnes Rittenhouse by her bony arm.
“I told you not to come back to this house or you’d suffer the consequences.”
“I came to leave a gift for His Lordship!” Agnes said—frightened.
“So, that’s why you were coming out of his bedchamber?” Robert asked viciously. “Why didn’t you give it to him personally when you visited this morning?”
“I forgot it,” Agnes lied.
“Show me this gift.” Robert said, flinging the door to Julian’s room open. He pulled Agnes inside.
Cleverly, along with the note that Ulrika had given her—the note which Agnes had tucked into the pocket of one of Julian’s coats—she had thought to bring along something to use as an excuse.
On the writing desk, sat a wind-up toy—a furry bear with a worn body and tattered face.
“It’s Ursula.” Nanny Rittenhouse trembled. “She was His Lordship’s when he was a little tyke. He took it everywhere with him until Sir Colin gave him that figure of Punch. I’ve kept it all these years. I found it amongst the things I brought with me from England and I thought he might like to have it as a reminder of his youth.
Robert drew in a deep breath and hissed. “His Lordship doesn’t much care to be reminded of his youth! Did you know that?”
Agnes shook her head.
“Something makes him not wish to remember.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Nanny Rittenhouse began to sob. “It wasn’t my fault. Please, let me go!”
“What wasn’t your fault?” Robert snarled.
“Let me go, Sir.” Agnes pleaded.
Robert pulled the woman to the window. “What did you do to him?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Agnes sobbed.
Robert pushed Agnes against the cold glass of the window.
“Tell me or I’ll push you through this glass.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-96? If so, you can read them here.
10 comments:
What a chapter! The tension is palpable, with the devious nanny up stairs and the evil Ogress down stairs Mr. Punch and Robert certainly have a fight on their hands. Still, I trust Mr. Punch when he says "I always beat the devil."
Thanks, Darcy. They do have a lot going on! If Mr. Punch wasn't holding the baby, there's no telling what he'd do. Meanwhile, Robert has Agnes against the window just as Mr. Punch had Arthur against the rail of the ship. Will someone stop him, too, before he does something he might regret?
So exciting!
I Couldn't agree more. Excellent...
I wanted to tell you how much I loved the Christmas scenes. Finally they got a little quality time together already. I teared up when Robert gave Punch the pin and then, when he got the puppet, I have to tell you, I was crying. So good. It's a wonderful balance of suspense and tenderness. I want to read it again from the beginning.
I hope Robert gets the story out of horrible old Agnes and tosses her through the glass anyway. Punch is doing a very good job of holding his own - along with the baby. Excellent chapter.
Thanks, Anonymous.
I appreciate that, Book Gurl!
Hello, Fran, it's always good to see you! I'm quite flattered that you're enjoying Punch's Cousin. It's a very special project for me. My goal is to see this in printed form. As you mentioned previously, I think it would work in a film format as well. If you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them. You can always email me at belleepoque@tx.rr.com. Your support and kind words mean a lot to me. Many thanks!
Hi Dashwood! As satisfying as it would be to push Agnes through the window, I don't think it would be the best route for him to take. However, we've seen that Robert can be quite passionate when it comes to protecting his family. So, we'll see what happens. Thanks for coming by!
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