“Linseed Oil. Just a moment,” Charles said softly, lighting a kerosene lamp.
Barbara blinked as the light flared momentarily. She looked around. “This is…”
“I know it’s not the sort of thing you’re used to, Miss Allen,” Charles smiled.
“Charles, I’m so far removed from life at Fallbridge Hall, I have no sense of pretention about me anymore. Since I’ve been here, I’ve slept in a stable, I’ve taken shelter in a swamp, I’ve felt the bugs crawl on my skin as I’ve tried to erase the pain of each day. To me, this is a palace.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll find your Queen Victoria in a place like this.” Charles laughed, arranging some blankets on the dusty floor.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Barbara smiled. “Her Majesty is a very plucky woman. All that time in Scotland—she’s bound to have had a fair amount of dirt on her skirts.”
“Have you met her?” Charles asked.
“Yes, I’ve been presented to Her Majesty.” Barbara nodded. “I’ve not had as many opportunities to be in her presence as Julian has. Prince Albert rather fancied Julian’s work as a jeweler. Once, while Julian was in London, he worked with Garrard’s in creating one of the garter badges. Julian’s been to the palace on several occasions. Peculiar, isn’t it? All the opportunities my brother has had, and yet, he loathed every minute of it. He so much preferred staying in his townhouse and sorting through his gems. While most people would have been brimming with excitement to stand alongside the Prince and the Queen, Julian was bubbling with fear.”
Barbara sighed.
“Miss Allen?”
“He’s going to make my son as much of a coward as he is.” Barbara whispered. “My boy will be a madman like his uncle.”
“I wouldn’t quite classify His Grace has a madman, Miss Allen.” Charles replied thoughtfully. “Yes, he’s different, but even when he’s—well, behaving as Mr. Punch--he’s still one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. Both facets of him, they’re intelligent and gentle and generous. I’ve not known him—or them—very long, but, I can tell a good man when I meet one, and your brother is a good man.”
“Yes, I suppose he is.” Barbara nodded slowly. “He was always kind to me—even when I was difficult. Most men wouldn’t have taken any interest at all in their infant sisters. He’s a great deal older than I. But, for as long as I can recall, he always tried to show me respect and gentleness. How did I repay that?” She chuckled mournfully. “I’ve made him suffer terribly.” She wrung her hands together. “I can only hope that he’ll show my son the same kindness.”
“You know that he will, Miss Allen.” Charles answered supportively.
“I have to believe that he will.” Barbara said, beginning to cry. “Oh! I miss him—my Colin. How could I have let him go? Another soul which loved me unconditionally, and I, too made him suffer. Charles, I’m a horrible woman. Why? Why am I like this? And, why are you standing by me? You ought to just cast me out on the street where I belong.”
“Miss Allen, I…” Charles blushed. “I care. I know our association has been brief, but when I look at you, I don’t see a ‘horrible woman.’ I see a beautiful woman who has made mistakes, but I believe you will be triumphant.”
“Triumphant?” Barbara said, wiping her eyes.
“In anything you so choose.” Charles smiled.
“Thank you,” Barbara took a deep breath.
“Now, my Lady, your bed awaits.” Charles pointed to the floor.
“I’ve not been called, ‘Lady Barbara’ in so long, I’ve forgotten that it’s my name.”
“Never forget that. You were born Lady Barbara. That’s who you are. You’ve only been Barbara Allen briefly. You don’t have to remain so.”
“Don’t I?” Barbara asked.
“You can be whomever you so desire.” Charles replied.
“Tonight, I only wish to be the woman who is here with you.” Barbara blushed. “By the way, where is ‘here’?”
“This is the home of my friend, Louis. He’s away—gone to Atlanta. He’s an artist. A painter. He doesn’t mind if I come here. Since I’ve been in service, and living in other people’s houses, I like to know that I have a private place to go every so often. Even if it is a little dirty, at least it’s a place where no one expects anything of me.”
“And this Louis—he won’t mind that you’ve brought a woman here?”
“He’d encourage it.” Charles laughed. “Now, go and rest. I’ll see if I can find us something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” Barbara shook her head. “I feel rather ill. My stomach is in knots.”
“You must eat something.” Charles argued.
“No.” Barbara said.
“It will make you feel better.” Charles answered.
“Just put your arms around me,” Barbara said softly, “that’s all the comfort I need.”
Meanwhile at their hotel, Mr. Punch sat in one of the stiff, wooden chairs at the corner table and cradled Colin in his arms.
“Them women….” He shook his head. “You shoulda let me bash ‘em on their wicked heads.”
“You know that wouldn’t have solved anything.” Robert smiled.
“Maybe not, but it would have been satisfyin’.”
Marjani laughed.
“Marjani, did you manage to talk with my brother and Adrienne?” Robert asked.
“I did.” Marjani nodded. “They’ll do whatever we need them to.”
“Good.” Mr. Punch grinned. “Here, we got ourselves the perfect conditions now.”
“How so?” Robert asked.
“See, we can make it seem like Iolanthe flew into a rage when she didn’t get her blackmail.” Punch explained. “We got a witness in Marjani who saw them witches here, demandin’ we pay them for their silence.”
“This is all quite unsettling.” Robert sighed.
“It is,” Mr. Punch said. “But, the most important things always are. Yes?”
“They are, Mr. Punch,” Marjani said emphatically.
“So, Chum,” Mr. Punch winked. “Are you ready to be killed?”
Did you miss Chapter 1-215? If so, you can read them here.
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