“What is this?” Cecil grumbled as he staggered into Mr. Punch’s room where he found Punch hurriedly attempting to put on his own boots.
“Puttin’ me boots on me feet!” Punch said quickly.
“Why?” Cecil frowned. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know ‘tis.” Punch shrugged. “But, we got somethin’ to do, we do.”
“And, what is so pressing at this hour that you’re rummaging about so loudly that you might wake the children as you woke me?” Cecil asked, settling onto Punch’s bed.
“We got troubles.”
“Not surprising.” Cecil yawned. “We have had a surfeit of those lately. But, surely, we’re on our way toward better times. After all, we have your nephew. We’ll be departing tomorrow. What could be so urgent that you’ve gotten yourself so alarmed?”
“Iolanthe,” Robert explained as he joined Cecil and Punch. “And, Marie.”
“They can’t touch us now.” Cecil sighed. “We’ve done all we could. Barbara Allen has made her own decisions. We’re not going to get her to change her mind. If she wants to stay with those women, then, let her. We have the child. That’s what matters. So, you didn’t get your diamond back. How many diamonds would you be willing to trade for Colin?”
“It ain’t no diamond what I want nor is it Barbara Allen!” Punch chirped. “It’s that I gotta put things right.”
“For whom?” Cecil asked.
“For…” Punch stuttered. “For everyone, for all of us. Even Charles.”
“Charles? What in Heaven’s name does he have to do with anything?” Cecil growled.
“He’s gotten himself in a predicament. It seems that Marie Laveau is staging some sort of ritual—one she claims has conceived a powerful child within her. She stole Arthur’s corpse as part of this and now she seems to be using Charles for the same purpose.” Robert explained.
“How do you know this?” Cecil narrowed his eyes.
“We received a letter from Marie herself. Not with all of those details, of course. Those were supplied by Gerard who saw it with his own eyes.”
“Gerard? The idiot?” Cecil grumbled.
“I don’t think he’s as much of an idiot as he wants people to think that he is.” Robert shook his head.
“Fine. So, Gerard is no idiot. And, Marie has Charles. What of it? He’s a servant. We can find Punch and His Grace another footman.”
“Brother,” Robert scowled. “I’m surprised at you. Have you been affluent for so long that you’ve forgotten the circumstances of our youth? Have you forgotten the humanity of each man?”
“I’m sorry, Robert,” Cecil sighed. “You’re right. But, you have to agree that it’s not as if Charles has been the most loyal of men to us. From the outset, his priority has always been his misguided affection for that whore Barbara. No offense, Mr. Punch.”
“None taken,” Punch shrugged. “You’re correct. That’s what she is.”
“Be that as it may,” Robert interrupted, “We can’t very well leave the man in the clutches of Marie and Iolanthe.”
“What has Iolanthe got to do with this?” Cecil asked.
“We don’t know. That Ulrika what’s got the wide neck and the deep voice is there, too. See, they’re the monsters, they are. Them ones what Naasir told me ‘bout. I gotta make sure they can’t hurt no one. Naasir told me that that’s what was written.”
“Nonsense.” Cecil argued. “I’ll tell you what’s written! In this house there are two infant boys, my wife, me, Marjani and her grandchild who are all ready to be taken to England to safety. We owe it to those people to do as we promised. Risking your lives once again to carry out some prophesy told to you by your deceased African valet is sheer lunacy.”
“I gotta do it, Chum.” Punch shook his head.
“No.” Cecil replied firmly. “I won’t allow it!”
Did you miss Chapters 1-332? If so, you can read them here.
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