He painfully reached across the narrow bed, careful not to disturb Toby who was asleep next to him. Punch grabbed his puppet by its curving nose and pulled it toward himself. He slipped his hand into the glove and smiled.
“Hullo, other Mr. Punch,” Punch whispered. “Coo, but you musta been bored sittin’ here waitin’ for me. Ol’ Mr. Punch has had a time for himself, he has. Not the way one imagines spendin’ his first New Year’s Eve as a human person.”
Mr. Punch squinted at the figure of the puppet and looked, for a moment, side to side at the empty room. He grinned slightly and spoke in a Punch-like squawk moving the puppet on his hand as if it were speaking.
“Whatever could have happened, Mr. Punch?” Punch spoke for the puppet.
“Well, I’ll tell you.” Mr. Punch answered himself. He paused for a moment as he remembered Julian as a boy and all of the times that Julian had manipulated his own puppet—the puppet that was long lost, torn apart in the sugar cane field by Barbara Allen.
Mr. Punch shook his head and pulled the puppet to his chest, hugging it with his other arm. He leaned back with effort and rested his sore back on the pillows behind him—sighing with a combination of relief and discomfort.
“Now’s not the time for me to start tellin’ me secrets to a puppet.” Mr. Punch chattered. “Secrets—too many of ‘em.” He recalled he conversation he’d had with Adrienne earlier that morning. Both she and Robert had been adamant that as much as Punch wanted to protect his “master,” he owed it to Julian to allow the man to heal by knowing what had happened to him all those years before. And, yet, Punch couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d made a lifetime out of protecting Julian from all the terrible memories which could have hurt him.
Mr. Punch grunted, continuing to hug the puppet as Toby awoke and stretched his paws. The dog looked up and Mr. Punch and batted at him with a paw as a signal that he wanted Mr. Punch to scratch his belly.
“Busy, right now, I am.” Mr. Punch smiled at the dog.
Toby swiped at Punch with his paw again.
“Very well,” Mr. Punch sighed, removing his grip from the puppet so that he could scratch the dog’s stomach.
Toby grunted in satisfaction, and then he aggressively sat up, his ears at attention and he barked one “woof” of warning.
“What’s on your mind, nice dog?” Mr. Punch asked.
Just then, Punch heard a chime from downstairs. It wasn’t the chime of the tall-case clock in the hall. No, it was the bell on the front door.
“Someone’s here.” Mr. Punch said. “I wonder who’d come to see us.”
For a second, Punch considered getting up and wandering out into the hallway so that he could lean over the banister and peer into the foyer where he might catch a glimpse of the person who’d come to the door.
“No,” He sighed, concluding that he’d only get himself in trouble with Robert, Adrienne, Cecil and Marjani if he got out of bed.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Meridian hurried to the door, wiping her hands on her apron as she walked.
She opened the door and smiled at the handsome man who stood outside.
“Yes, sir?” She smiled.
“Oh, I’m no ‘sir.’” The man winked.
Meridian giggled. The man was quite good looking with dark hair, a strong jaw and clear, glittering eyes.
“As you say,” Meridian chuckled. “But, nonetheless, you’re here. What can ol’ Meridian do for ya? Have you come for to see His Grace?”
“I have.” The man smiled. “I am called Charles Van Eyck.”
“Is His Grace expecting you?” Meridian asked.
“No.” Charles shook his head.
“Then, you know I can’t let you see him.” Meridian smiled.
“I didn’t think that you would.” Charles shrugged. “I don’t mind talking to Dr. Halifax. That’s his name, isn’t it? The other man in charge?”
“Dr. Halifax is here.” Meridian chuckled, still quite overwhelmed by the man’s appearance. “But, you know I can’t let you see him either if he don’t know who you are.”
“Let me explain,” Charles said. “It has come to my attention that the Duke is in need of a new valet. Well, here I am…”
Did you miss Chapters 1-173? If so, you can read them here.
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