“It is my concern, Your Grace, if you’re intending to leave Louisiana with something that belongs to me.” Iolanthe shook her head.
“I ain’t got nothin’ what belongs to you!” Punch responded angrily.
“Don’t you?” Iolanthe smiled. “Barbara Allen is here, and so is her great protector—your valet. Neither of them has the child who was previously at Marie Laveau’s. The very same child who should be returned to Edward Cage.”
“A child is a person.” Mr. Punch said. “Not some hunk of rock to be fought over and passed around.”
“A child is an investment,” Iolanthe sighed. “I’ve invested a great deal of time and effort into supplying Edward Cage with a son—as your people would call it, an ‘heir presumptive,’ should his monstrous eldest child fail to preserve to family’s interest. Now, I’m no fool, Your Grace. I don’t want you thinkin’ that I am. Do you have the boy? You may as well just tell me because I’ll find out anyway.”
“Someone help me,” Agnes Rittenhouse moaned from the floor. “I’m injured.”
Charles started toward the fallen nanny.
“Leave her!” Punch and Iolanthe said in unison.
“She’’ll find her own way up,” Iolanthe added. She smiled at Punch. “You see, Your Grace, we aren’t so different—you and I. We both want to protect the people that we care about.”
“You don’t care about anyone!” Punch growled.
“Not true.” Iolanthe laughed. “I care about my son. And, I certainly care about myself. Now, tell me, do you have the boy?”
Mr. Punch squeezed his hands together and grumbled to himself. “Ain’t tellin’ this woman nothin’, I ain’t.”
“You don’t need to.” Iolanthe said, raising her hand. “Your response tells me all I need to know.”
She turned to Charles and grinned. “You there—what’s your name?”
“Charles.”
“Charles, be a good man and go fetch Mala for me. She can take Agnes to her room. Once you’ve finished that, you may go and see your beloved Barbara Allen. If you can convince her to go with you, then, by all means, you’re welcome to take her. However, be forewarned. I don’t think she wishes to leave her home.”
Charles looked to Mr. Punch.
“Go on,” Punch nodded. “I’m gonna talk to the Ogress.”
“You know I don’t enjoy being called that,” Iolanthe grumbled as Charles fled the room.
“I don’t enjoy being called a lunatic, but you do that.”
“What else would you call a man who thinks he’s someone else and whose chief reaction to any situation is to strike people with heavy objects?”
“Coo! Well, then, what else would you call a woman what murders folk and what sells babies and women? I’d call her an ‘ogress’ and that’s what you are.”
“You’ve got fire in you.” Iolanthe laughed.
“I got all sorts of things in me.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Iolanthe chuckled. As the door creaked open, Iolanthe signaled to Mala who had just entered the room. “Mala, be a dear and drag this woman downstairs. She’s struck her head, but no doubt, she’ll be fine.”
“Yes, Miss.” Mala grunted, bending over and effortlessly picking up Agnes’ limp body.
“Isn’t she strong?” Iolanthe winked. “What she lacks in beauty and wit she makes up for in sheer animal strength. Don’t you, Mala?”
“Yes, Miss.” Mala mumbled as she carried the nanny from the room.
“Good servants are so hard to find.” Iolanthe sighed. “You’re fortunate to have your Charles. Even if his loyalty is questionable, at least he’s loyal to something.” She pointed to a chair. “Do sit.”
“No.” Punch spat. “I ain’t gonna sit with you.”
“Suit yourself.” Iolanthe shrugged, flouncing into an upholstered chair. “Now, listen. You know that I’m going to find that child and get him back. So, why don’t you just save all of us a lot of trouble and effort and bring him to me. Then, you and your doctor companion can go anywhere you want.”
“Not a chance,” Punch shook his head.
“Oh, why must you be so difficult?” Iolanthe groaned.
“And, why won’t you give up?” Punch retorted.
Iolanthe began to speak but was interrupted when one of her henchmen entered her budoir.
“Yes,” Iolanthe said curtly.
The man handed Iolanthe a note which she read with great delight.
Cackling, Iolanthe narrowed her eyes at Mr. Punch.
“What?” Punch asked.
“Be on your way.” Iolanthe said, waving her gloved hand at Punch.
“Pardon me?” Punch asked.
“Go get your man and see what your sister decides. I have things to do.”
“So, you are giving up?”
“Hardly. But, I now have a weapon which will render your cooperation unnecessary. So, be on your way. You’re just in my way now.”
“What were in that message?” Punch asked.
“I see no reason I shouldn’t tell you.” Iolanthe laughed. “Oh, dear, it is wonderful news. I can’t imagine what that irritating Ulrika Rittenhouse will say.”
“Tell me!”
“That, Your Grace, was a missive from Marie Laveau. We’ve had some troubles, she and I, but I will never doubt her power again. You see, Your Grace, Marie has accomplished a great miracle!”
“What’s that?” Punch asked cautiously.
“A new life, my dear Duke. A new life which will prove to be your undoing!” Iolanthe laughed.
Did you miss Chapters 1-319? If so, you can read them here.
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