“It’ll only hurt for a minute,” Iolanthe Evangeline smiled. “Then, you’ll feel nothing.”
The Duchess moaned as she felt the warmth of her blood rise on her arm.
“Be patient, Your Grace.” Iolanthe laughed. “It’s almost finished.”
“Somehow,” Pauline panted, “Somehow I knew that I would be tortured for what I’ve done. But,” She began to sob, “I didn’t think…”
“I don’t suppose you did.” Iolanthe chuckled. “Now, you just hush.”
“You’re a monster…” Pauline spat breathlessly.
“So I’m told.” Iolanthe grinned. “But, am I really? Which of us is the ogress, Duchess. You or me? Folk are quick to call me a monster. But, what have I done? I give girls like your daughter a place to live and food in their bellies in exchange for the simplest work. I take their children and see that they’re raised in homes of wealth and privilege. Does that make me an ogress? The blood on my hands is only the blood of those who deserved to spill their lives. I give folk pleasure. So, why am I a monster? Sure, I got greed. We all do, but I make no secret of it. You took a life, Your Grace. Now, you’re giving yours to help an innocent child live. You see, I’m a mother, too. That’s right. I’m a mother, too. My boy—he’s different. His is a horrible burden. Folk’ll call him a monster, too, but not for the same reasons. But, I got power, you see. I don’t want you thinkin’ that I don’t. My power is so great, I put the fear in Marie Laveau herself. You’ll be rewarded for helping me. My son will go to Heaven one day—with the same face and the same mind that everyone else has got. And, when he does, maybe he’ll remember the woman whose blood saved him. And, when he does, maybe you’ll have one second of peace in your hell.”
Pauline shut her eyes and let her body go limp. Her mind filled with a rush of images—her marriage to Sir Collin, the death of her father, the day she became The Duchess of Fallbridge, the birth of Julian, the exact moment when she knew that Julian was, himself, different and the pangs of hatred she felt for her own son. Pictures of Barbara raced by, rushes of emotions—anger, terrible want, desire. Arthur’s face, Barbara’s face, Julian’s strange stare. She felt the sensation of cool diamonds against her throat, the excitement of the rough touch of Arthur, the stink of whisky on a stranger’s breath.
She opened her eyes. All of the other faces were gone. All that remained were Mala’s hideous squint and Iolanthe’s triumphant grin. Her body shuddered as Iolanthe laughed.
“You just rest now,” Iolanthe said softly, “And, know that my boy thanks you.”
“Go get the priest.” Iolanthe whispered harshly to Mala. “Don’t come back without him. Do exactly what I taught you.”
Meanwhile, Mr. Punch sighed with satisfaction. “That was a good breakfast, that was. Lots of sausages.” He grabbed a hunk of bread and offered it to Toby who took it happily, tail wagging. Looking across the table to his puppet, he smiled. “Don’t know what you’re missin’, me wooden chum. A lot of trouble these human bodies are, but I’ll tell ya, it’s worth it for a breakfast such as what we just had.”
Punch surveyed his human companions. They poked at their food with their forks.
“Come on, then. Ain’t no good lettin’ the stinkin’ Duchess put you off your food. What’s it that you’re always tellin’ me, Chum? You gotta eat. Right? Well, you’re a doctor, you know what you gotta do. So, eat up. No use you gettin’ sick again.”
“I’m not terribly hungry.” Robert smiled.
“You’re just not used to Her Grace like what me and me master are.” Mr. Punch said. “Don’t let her bother you. We told her what we felt, and I gotta say, it felt right good to do it. It’s ‘bout time someone told her.”
“We’re all just a little worried, Chers Punch.” Adrienne said softly. “We’ve so much on our minds. This is not how I envisioned our first Christmas together.”
Mr. Punch frowned. “Together—like all of us. But, you didn’t know ‘bout me and Julian until we showed up at your house.”
“When Robert wrote us and said he was bringing you, we knew that you would immediately be part of the family.” Cecil nodded.
“Oh.” Mr. Punch’s frown faded. He drummed the table with Julian’s’ fingers and squinted.
“Here, we had a happy day, we did. And, many more will come, I’m sure.” Mr. Punch said cheerfully. “We just gotta get past this awfulness.”
“And, we will.” Robert said firmly. “Soon.”
Little did they know that they were being watched through the tall windows of the dining room. Arthur peered through the glass—his eyes wide and dazed from the St. Dymphna’s root that Ulrika had forced upon him that morning. He ducked down when someone else entered the room—a dark-skinned woman he’d never seen before.
“Meridian,” Adrienne smiled. “How’s Fuller?”
“Full and happy.” Meridian smiled. “Listen, there’s a woman here for to see all of ya.”
“It’s not the…” Cecil began.
“No, Sir.” Meridian smiled. “This one came to the back door. She’s got a child with her. Says she’s your friend. Calls herself Marjani.”
“Oh!” Mr. Punch leapt to his feet. “Bring her in, please.”
“Sure will.” Meridian smiled.
“However did she manage to get off of Manuel Fontanals’ place?” Cecil wondered aloud.
Marjani entered the room and bowed her head. She was followed by a shy little girl of about three years old. The girl looked quite overwhelmed and confused.
“Your Lordship, Dr. Halifax, Mr. Halifax, Mrs. Halifax.” Marjani said softly.
“You look tired, Marjani,” Adrienne rose to her feet and went to the woman, putting a gentle hand on her arm.
“I am, ma’am.” Marjani said softly. “The Lady Mother done freed my Nontle and her husband from their horrible pain. And, then, Mr. Fontanals done freed me from his service.”
“He did?” Cecil asked.
“Yes, sir.” Marjani said, “But, I still got my pain.” She turned to the child and said gently, “Columbia, show yourself to the nice people.”
Columbia stepped forward awkwardly.
“This is my granddaughter, Columbia.”
“What a lovely girl, you are.” Adrienne smiled. Columbia smiled back at her.
“She’s a free girl.” Marjani said proudly. “She won’t never have to know what the rest of us have suffered. We come here to start anew. Bein’ as it was all of you who gave us the means to do it, we wanted to stop here and pay our respects.”
“Columbia, are you hungry?” Mr. Punch asked the girl.
Columbia looked up at her grandmother who responded, “It’s all right, Chil’. You tell the man.”
“I am,” Columbia nodded.
“Here, we must get some food for you.” Mr. Punch went to the sideboard and grabbed a plate.
“No, Sir, it ain’t fittin’ for us to take food with ya.” Marjani shook her head.
“And, why not?” Cecil smiled.
“Every person in this room is a free individual.” Robert added.
“Well, maybe the girl can eat some,” Marjani smiled weakly. “But, not for…” Marjani grasped the back of the chair in front of her and lurched forward slightly.
“Are you ill?” Robert asked, rushing to the woman’s side.
“No, Sir. Jus’ tired.” Marjani shook her head. She paused and shut her eyes for a moment before falling to the floor.
Did you miss Chapters 1-114? If so, you can read them here.
4 comments:
Your characters intrigue, the pure goodness of some, the pure evil of others make for very interesting reading.
I appreciate that, Darcy. Perhaps those characters who are pure evil can be influenced by those who are open to learning new behavior. It's doubtful, but perhaps... Thanks for reading!
It's interesting how you portray the self-justification of Iolanthe. How many of history's worst villains have motivated themselves in just that way. And the scariest thing is that every human does the same thing - only in, (thankfully) very very small ways.
That's true, Dashwood. Most of the horrible things that have happened in history have been jutified by the villains. However, I like to imagine that sometimes, something good can come from even the worst situation. Thanks for stopping by.
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