“I was just a young footman.” Arthur coughed. “I caught the eye of Her Grace, the Duchess, when I was working as a groomsman. She thought my legs too good to be in the stables and asked my father to let me work in the house.”
“I remember.” Punch nodded, though he—specifically--did not remember. He did, however, recall Julian’s reaction when the Duchess had brought the rather rough young man into Fallbridge Hall. Julian had disliked Arthur on sight, despite the man’s immediate appearance of handsomeness. Julian was keenly aware that beneath the thin veneer of Arthur’s attractiveness was an ugliness that could not be ignored. The feeling had been so fierce that it had radiated through Julian upon that initial introduction and caught the attention of Mr. Punch who, at that time, was resting within their shared body.
Arthur’s body shook with a spasm of violent coughing, yet he managed to control himself enough to continue. “She liked me,” he croaked. “Promised me that I’d rise in ranks within the household, that I could be a valet to you, Sir, at the time, your Lordship, and that one day, I might be First Footman and deputize for the butler—perhaps even be butler one day. To be butler in a great house such as Fallbridge Hall, to be in the trust of the Duchess of Fallbridge—it was more than I ever could have imagined. Me, the son of a groomsman, destined to be such for the rest of my life amongst the horses and dung.”
Arthur paused as his body shook.
“None of this matters now,” Robert grunted. “Close your eyes, Arthur.”
“It does matter, Sir.” Arthur moaned.
“Isn’t it interesting how respectful you’ve become now that your light is flickering out.” Robert mumbled.
“It ain’t too late, is it, Sir?” Arthur whispered.
Marjani spoke up. “Not if you don’t think it so.”
“For all her wealth and power,” Arthur continued, “her Grace was lonely what with Sir Colin always away, and still quite beautiful given her age. She fancied me. I knew it would happen. Me da’ told me it would happen with her. All the staff knew of her love for the young men.”
“You are speaking of His Grace’s mother, no matter how brutal a woman she was.” Robert warned.
“She had plans for me,” Arthur went on, ignoring Robert. “Said I’d go far. Said all I had to do was never fail her. She said that I amused her and that she wanted me to amuse Lady Barbara, too. Lord Julian,” Arthur coughed—blood flying from his purple lips—“I mean, Your Grace, had already left for Belgravia. The Duchess wanted Lady Barbara to be around men, to know men, so she asked me to make sure she got an education in it. As, so, that’s what I gave her…”
“By making her a whore?” Mr. Punch asked. “I doubt that the Duchess of Fallbridge would have condoned that—not as determined as she was for Barbara to make a good marriage within the peerage or better. Barbara could have married a Duke or better, she could have married a Prince and, while a morganatic marriage would have been out of the question—though such things don’t matter to Her Majesty Queen Victora-- she could have at least been a proper Duchess and earned the rank of Royal or at least Serene Highness. This she could not have done if not a virgin, and certainly, the Duchess of Fallbridge would not have jeopardized such a smart match.” Punch scratched his head, unsure of how he knew of the complicated details of noble marriages, but figured that, somehow, Julian was coaching him from within.
“You don’t understand, Your Grace…” Arthur rattled.
“I bloody well do!” Punch spat. “Listen, I see you’re trying to blame your sins on a woman what’s dead. She was no prize, I’ll say that for me master’s mum, but it ain’t fair that you should try to lie your way out of Hell by pinnin’ your crimes on her lifeless breast!”
“Was your mother without sin?” Arthur coughed. “Didn’t she arrange for the murder of your father, Sir Colin?”
Punch was silent.
“Didn’t she?” Arthur rasped.
“Don’t speak of things you know nothing of.” Punch warned.
“Artie, just quiet down,’ Gerard urged.
“No!” Arthur snapped weakly. “If I’m goin’, I’m takin’ her with me!”
At that very moment, Charles and Barbara Allen huddled together behind the Baptismal font in St. Louis Cathedral. The child slept soundly on Barbara’s lap and Barbara shivered as he back rested against the church’s cold wall.
“Take my coat,” Charles suggested.
“No, thank you, Charles.” Barbara smiled. “When the rain lets up, we’ll go somewhere warmer.”
“It may be awhile.” Charles whispered.
“I’ll be fine,” Barbara shook her head. She gazed at Charles. “You think I’m quite mad, don’t you?”
“Perhaps you’re braver than you are mad.” Charles smiled.
They paused as they heard the cathedral doors grind open. Charles peered around the side of the font.
“Who is it?” Barbara whispered.
Charles face blanched. “The man who carried you from the river.”
“Marie’s husband’s brother.” Barbara muttered. “Somehow I knew she’d find us.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-301? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday, July 25 for Chapter 303 of Punch’s Cousin.
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