Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 330

Barbara wrapped her shawl firmly around her shoulders as she walked—not so much to keep out the chill of the winter evening, but because she was afraid. For all of her steeliness and her brazenness, at her core, she was still Barbara, Lady Fallbridge. For as much as she struggled to break free of the oppression of her sheltered and opulent upbringing, she was, in essence, a wealthy English girl whose dreams of freedom were more developed than her actual ability to cope with reality.


“I wish I really was mad,” Barbara thought to herself as she hurried through the damp streets of the French Quarter. “Then, they wouldn’t bother me so.”

Men of all creeds and colors, some lurking in dark corners, others boldly swaggering down the streets stared at Barbara hungrily as she walked. She felt her skin crawl under their gaze and knew that they wanted to touch her. Her heart began to race as she recalled her first days at Iolanthe house as she allowed strange men to know her. It was somehow different than when Arthur had introduced her to the men he brought to Fallbridge Hall. They, at least, had been somewhat gentle. They knew that—despite their low circumstances—they had been granted the opportunity to lie with a lady. Iolanthe’s men knew nothing of the sort. They were rough and coarse. They pulled her hair and pinched her smooth skin. Iolanthe’s men spoke atrocious words to her, called her names and made her feel as base as they were.

The men who watched her that evening had the same look in their eyes that defined the countenances of Iolanthe’s customers.

Barbara wondered if she shouldn’t go back. Surely Charles would come back. Surely he had received her note of explanation. Looking over her shoulder, Barbara realized that a group of men had followed her. She wondered where to turn, but quickly realized that she’d lost her way.

In the distance, through a grove of trees, she saw the flickering light of a bonfire and the urgent, gleeful sound of a celebration. She walked toward the orange glow and hoped that there she might find the lesser of two evils.

As she approached the gathering, at first she through she had stumbled upon an illuminated pit of snakes. Many dark figures writhed around the fire, wriggling and chanting. She soon realized that the figures were people—though many of them, in fact, did hold snakes in the hands, held aloft over their dark heads.

And, then, at the center of the crowd, a ghostly face and a shock of red hair caught her attention. There stood Iolanthe Evangeline and Ulrika Rittenhouse and nearby them was Marie Laveau. Without thinking of the consequences, Barbara approached and as she did, he saw something that made her whole body shake.

Upon the fire she could recognize the burning bodies of Nellie and the man she had killed. But, worst of all, she saw the blistered face of Arthur—her husband, her torturer, her false friend and the man she thought was the father of her child. Barbara screamed madly and rushed forward. She was stopped by Giovanni Iantosca who towered in front of her. In his arms he held the limp body of his brother—Charles.

Barbara’s screams rose in pitch as she sank to the wet ground.



Did you miss Chapters 1-329? If so, you can read them here.