“Oh, Your Grace,” Iolanthe laughed. “I hardly laid a hand on you.”
“Shovin’ me ‘round.” Punch shouted.
“You’re nothing but skin and bones.” Iolanthe clucked her tongue. “Isn’t he, Agnes?”
“He always has been.” Agnes sighed. “Poor lad, never would take his food properly. Always off on his own, talking to himself. It grieved his poor mother so.”
“Shut yer gob!” Punch grunted.
“But, it’s true, Your Grace,” Nanny Rittenhouse shook her head. “When I think of all the times your poor mother bemoaned your weakness, well, it simply breaks my heart.”
“What heart?” Punch narrowed his eyes. “You ain’t got no heart! Nor did she—me master’s mum.”
“Such a terrible thing to say.” The former nanny sighed. “However, I shouldn’t be surprised. You always were quite mad. And, now, clearly, you’ve given into completely.”
“You’re a fine one to call me ‘mad.’” Punch grumbled. “So, what is this?” He looked at Iolanthe. “Why’d you pull me in here?”
“I simply wish to talk with you,” Iolanthe shrugged. “I think you owe me that much. After all, thanks to you, I’ve had some considerable inconvenience.”
“You seem to have rallied.” Punch growled.
“I always do.” Iolanthe chuckled.
“So, you want to talk with me? Talk, then.”
“Can’t we find a common ground?” Iolanthe asked. “Your sister has come to her senses and returned to me. She knows the error of her ways. Why can’t you see that I’m not your enemy? If we do this my way, everyone will benefit. Just return the child to me, and then, you and your companion can go wherever you want. I’ll have everything I was promised and you can go one with your life—such as it is.”
“You would do well to listen to this woman,” Agnes Rittenhouse added. “She’s quite reasonable.”
“Listen, you barmy old beast!” Punch spat. “What you think means nothin’ to me!”
“Well,” Agnes sniffed.
Punch looked around the room into which Iolanthe had pushed him and his eyes settled upon a porcelain umbrella stand filled with the shining handles of various umbrellas.
“What are you thinking of?” Iolanthe smiled.
“Nothin’.” Punch lied.
“You’re not thinking about hitting me, are you?”
Punch rushed toward the stand and withdrew one of the umbrellas by its handle.
“Oh, Your Grace,” Nanny Rittenhouse sighed. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”
Meanwhile, further up the corridor, Charles opened the final door and, there, on the other side, he found Barbara Allen seated in her bath.
“Charles,” Barbara mumbled. “You’ve found me.”
“Yes.” Charles said, reaching for a dressing gown on a nearby chair. “Now, hurry, cover yourself.”
“I can’t do that.” Barbara said.
“Why not?” Charles moaned.
“I’m not clean yet.” Barbara muttered.
“You’ve got to come with me.” Charles pleaded. “Your brother is here. We’ve come for you. We’ll take you home.”
“Where’s home?” Barbara asked.
“His Grace’s home. Your child is there. We’ll protect you!” Charles urged.
“No.” Barbara said. “I don’t need protecting.”
“You’ve killed a man!” Charles hissed. “And, one of Marie Laveau’s kin. You most certainly do need protecting.”
“Charles, my love,” Barbara splashed water from the tub at the man. “You are the one who needs protecting.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-314? If so, you can read them here.
2 comments:
That Nanny Rittenhouse is pure evil.
She is. She's horrible!
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