“Chosen ones?” Barbara said, her voice heavy from lack of sleep. “You don’t mean my brother?”
“No, girl.” Marie shook her head. “Your brother continues to live. His man, Naasir, has died.”
“How do you know?” Barbara asked, clearing her throat.
“I know.” Marie smiled. “That’s all the matters.”
“Have you been to my brother’s house?” Barbara asked.
“I don’t have to go somewhere to know what’s happenin’.” Marie laughed.
“I’m quite sorry to hear it.” Barbara said with a peculiar sincerity. “You know, I freed him from Iolanthe once before. And, tried another time. She didn’t get him again, did she?”
“No.” Marie shook her head. “It was jus’ his time to go.”
“I don’t suppose there’s anything to drink around here.” Barbara mumbled.
“Coffee…” Marie pointed to the sideboard in the cramped, dusty room. “Over there.” She looked at Barbara. “You’re really bothered to know the man is dead?”
“I’m not happy about it, no.” Barbara sighed. “There’s been too much death lately. What’s the harm in feeling bad about it? Maybe I’m sad that my brother has lost one of his caretakers.”
“He’s gonna need a new man.” Marie smiled.
“I suppose so.” Barbara nodded. “It’s not as if he’d take Arthur back.”
“No.” Marie chuckled wildly.
“I wish I could help in some way.” Barbara muttered. “The suffering I’ve caused Julian…”
“You really want to help?” Marie grinned.
“He’s my brother. Of course, I do. No matter what else I’ve done, no matter what I may feel about his behavior, the simple fact remains that he’s my only living relative now. It’s only natural that I’d wish to help him.”
“There’s a way you can help.” Marie winked.
“And, what would that be?”
“Here.” Marie handed Barbara a card with an address written on it.
“What’s this?”
“That’s where you’re goin’ today.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s the home of one Harelda L'Ebène and her brother Odil. Miss L'Ebène is an old-maid and as bitter as they come. But, she still likes to be pretty, even if the only man who sees her is her brother. Odil’s a doctor, see. He’s also got an eye for the ladies—particularly one lady whose very well known to you. If you could call her a lady…”
“Iolanthe?” Barbara asked.
“That’s the one. Could be that they got a very real connection Odil and Iolanthe. Could be that the baby that Iolanthe frets ‘bout, might have some L'Ebène blood in him.”
“This man—this doctor—is the father of Iolanthe’s child?” Barbara asked.
“I didn’t say that.” Marie winked again. “And, that not for you to worry ‘bout. Now, listen, you go to that address and tell them that I done sent ya to do Miss L'Ebène’s hair. She’ll be ever so pleased to have a nice, English woman doin’ her hair. Ought to speak real highly ‘bout ol’ Marie Laveau, then.”
“What does this have to do with my brother?” Barbara asked.
“You are an impatient little thing,” Marie frowned. “I’m getting’ to it. While you’re there, you’re to talk to their footman, Charles. See, he ain’t real happy working for that raving witch. He wants to get himself a better position. Now, knowin’ that the Duke of Fallbridge needs a man might be information that Charles finds valuable.”
“I see.” Barbara nodded.
“Besides, he’s nice to look at. A fine, white fella with big shoulders and a handsome smile. You might just fancy him. I know how ya like footmen.”
“I’ve already got a husband.” Barbara grunted.
“Sure you do, Honey. And where is he?” Marie laughed. “Oh, that’s right, he’s wakin’ up next to some ginger-headed heiress this mornin’.”
“When am I to go?” Barbara frowned.
“After ya drunk your coffee, girl. And make sure to be on your best behavior.”
At that very moment, Arthur was, indeed waking up in Ulrika Rittenhouse’s bed. He rolled over to find her gone, and, for a moment was quite relieved that he didn’t have to contend with her right away. As he lay there by himself, however, he began to wonder where she was. And, the reality that he could be caught in Edward Cage’s house—alone in the room of an unmarried, upper-class girl—began to make him nervous.
When the door opened, he pulled the blankets over his head, afraid he’d be found out.
“Oh, really, calm down,” Ulrika laughed. “It’s only me.”
“Where’d you go?” Arthur asked.
“Did you miss me?” Ulrika hissed.
Arthur didn’t answer.
“I’ll take your silence to mean that you did.” Ulrika chuckled. “Now, I want you to say, ‘Thank you, darling Ulrika.’”
“Why?” Arthur grunted.
“Because I got you a present to celebrate the first day of this glorious year of 1853.”
“What’s that?” Arthur asked.
“This.” Ulrika grinned as she reached into the bodice of her dress and withdrew a glittering hunk of flashing blue.
“The Molliner Blue!” Arthur’s eyes widened. “How?”
“Oh, you’ll soon find out,” Ulrika howled with delight.
Meanwhile, at their borrowed house on Royal Street, Robert quietly entered Julian’s room and sat in the chair next to the bed where Julian slumbered. Toby was sitting on Julian’s stomach—fast asleep. Sometime during the night, the puppet that Cecil had placed at the foot of the bed had slumped over onto its face and, for a moment, Robert was reminded of the awful moment when Naasir died.
Julian’s eyes opened and Robert sighed with relief. Looking at his dear friend with anticipation, he wondered which of the two souls inside that body would be the one to speak. Robert didn’t care which one it was. He was just glad to see the man awake.
“Chum?”
“Yes, dear Punch.” Robert smiled.
“Naasir’s gone.” Mr. Punch said hoarsely.
“Yes.” Robert nodded.
“He came to us, he did.”
“Yes.” Robert repeated, not terribly sure to what Mr. Punch was referring.
“Left us a present.” Mr. Punch continued.
“Did he?” Robert asked.
“Yes.” Punch whispered. “Now, I got to keep me master from usin’ it.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-167? If so, you can read them here.
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