Chapter 5:
Mr. Punch and
the Baby
Rich
coral-colored walls, trimmed with white and gilt plaster moldings welcomed
Ellen Barrett into the Drawing Room of the Duke of Fallbridge’s palatial
townhouse. From the ornate wainscoting
to the thick dentil of the crown molding which clung to the eggshell blue
ceiling, the walls proudly boasted a dazzlingly impressive array of large,
important-looking oil paintings ranging from landscapes to family portraits to
tender genre scenes of innocent lovers and ruddy-cheeked children. Above the handsome mantelpiece, behind a
massive, black-slate, French clock and between a pair of silver girandoles—dripping
with crystals—a particularly large canvas had been hung, displayed in an ornate
lavishly gilt frame.
The painting
above the mantel depicted a street scene, at the center of which was a
red-and-white-striped tent-like booth in which a lively Punch & Judy show
was being performed. The spectacle was being
observed by painted children, men and women who—forever frozen in time—gazed with
delight at the hunch-backed, crimson-suited puppet. In the scene, the puppet held his
wooden-headed offspring and upon the play-board, to the right, a terrier in a
pointed hat and bright yellow ruff looked on.
Ellen smiled at
the cheerful painting before realizing, that once again, she had entered a room
in the mansion without noticing that the Duke was nowhere to be seen.
“I got a puppet.” A friendly, somewhat raspy, voice called out
from the center of the room.
Ellen turned her
attention to the middle of the Drawing Room where she spotted--under a japanned
and gilt center table laden with a huge crystal vase of flowers--the Duke of
Fallbridge. On his right hand sat a
tremendous puppet figure of Mr. Punch—expertly carved and beautifully
costumed. Young Colin lay on the floor
on a blanket. He gurgled gaily, reaching
for the ears of the Dog Toby who say next to him. Both seemed mesmerized by the Duke.
“I see that you
have, Your Grace,” Ellen nodded. “And, a very handsome puppet it is.”
“It’s mine,” The Duke answered proudly. “Dr. Halifax’s brother, Cecil—he carved the
head. And, Mrs. Halifax—Adrienne—she and
me chum Marjani made the little suit.”
He paused and scratched his chin with his left hand. “I mean to say that my friend, Marjani,
crafted the fine little costume.”
“It’s beautiful.” Ellen nodded again, walking closer to the
table under which the Duke, his son and dog sat.
“You like it?”
“I do.” Ellen replied. “And, I must say that Master Colin and the
Dog Toby seem to love him.”
“They do,” The
Duke replied brightly. “Everybody loves
Mr. Punch.” The Duke rolled on his side,
coming out from beneath the table. He
did so without the puppet touching the floor—a feat which impressed Ellen
greatly.
The Duke stood
up and looked cautiously at Ellen.
“You like Mr.
Punch?” he asked.
“As you say, everyone
loves Mr. Punch.” Ellen answered.
“Hmmm…” The Duke wrinkled his nose. Once again, his eyes were wide and excited,
yet he appeared to be thinking as his brows twitched.
“Your Grace?”
The Duke of
Fallbridge grinned and extended his puppet-ed hand. “You can hold him while I pick up Colin.”
“Thank you, Sir.” She took the puppet from her employer.
“No--thank you.” The Duke chirped gaily as he picked up his
son. “Come, Toby,” he called. The dog obediently followed him as he carried
the child over to a settee near the fire.
“Come sit with
us, Miss Barrett,” the Duke said absent-mindedly. “The chair with the little pictures of people
on it is the most comfortable. You can
have that one.”
Ellen sat. “It is comfortable.”
“It’s fabric is
what’s called toile. I learned that from me chum.” The Duke mumbled. He looked up and blushed, sighing, he repeated
himself, using the more refined voice he had used the day of their first
meeting. “I mean to say that the pattern
is toile. Dr. Halifax has been quite
helpful in identifying these things.”
“I suspect you
knew them already,” Ellen smiled, ignoring
the Duke’s obvious discomfort. “Being a
famous jeweler, I’m sure you’re aware of most artistic terms.”
“You’d think,” the Duke laughed. “Only, I ain’t…I am not…famous.”
“But, you
are. You’re highly celebrated. I remember seeing your work at the Great
Exhbition in 1851 and I recall reading
many times how much Prince Albert adores your work.”
“Eh.” The Duke shrugged. “None of that matters.” He looked down at the child in his arms. “This is what matters.” Looking up, he realized that Ellen was still
holding his puppet.
“Oh!” He exclaimed with wide eyes. “You don’t have to hold him. He likes to sit in chairs, he does. You can put him in the other chair there.”
“I shall,” Ellen nodded, rising for a moment and gently
placing the puppet in the chair adjacent to her. This seemed to please the Duke who grinned
widely.
“Thank you,” he smiled.
“Some folk don’t treat things with respect. Even if somethin’ can’t talk, don’t mean they
aren’t aware. Most things want talkin’
to.”
Again he caught
himself speaking in that odd, casual, rough manner. He snorted and shrugged, resigned to the fact
that it had happened.
“You had asked
to see me, Your Grace.” Ellen began.
“Sure,” The Duke nodded, looking absently at Ellen.
They looked at
one another for several moments.
“I imagine I
should say something now,” The Duke
sighed. “See, Miss Barrett, I’m not so
very good with other people.”
“I think you’re
doing very well, Sir.”
“Thank you.” The Duke grinned. “Here, listen, I wanted to talk with ya ‘bout
Colin.” He paused and frowned.
“Is something
bothering you, Your Grace?”
“No,” The Duke
answered. “Errrr…well, I don’t think
so. Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Do you mind if
I talk like this. I know it ain’t the
way a nobleman is ‘sposed to talk only it’s easier than what’s ‘xpected of me.”
“This is your
home, Sir, you may speak however you like.”
Ellen replied.
“Coo!” The Duke whooped. “See, I told me chum that you’d understand! I could tell, just by lookin’ at ya.”
Ellen smiled and
nodded.
“Now,” The Duke continued. “Me boy, Colin—he’s a fine boy. Next to Dr. Halifax, he’s the most ‘portant
person in the world and I want you to know what he likes and what he don’t.”
“I’m glad to
know.” Ellen answered.
“Dr. Halifax—he helped
me make a list.” The Duke continued. He
looked around. “Oh, what’d I do with it?” He yelped happily, “Oh! It’s on the table—the black table with all
them people’s pictures on it.”
“Shall I get it?” Ellen asked.
“Sure, when you
leave. You can read it before
supper. Here, you gettin’ ‘nough to eat?”
“I am. More than enough. Mrs. Pepper has been very kind.”
“Good!” The Duke shouted gladly. He giggled loudly. “Her name is Pepper what’s a spice. And, she’s a cook.” He howled happily.
They were
interrupted as the main door to the room opened and the doctor entered. “Dear Punch, I’m sure you’ll be happy to know
that…” he paused, realizing that they
weren’t alone. “Ah, Miss Barrett, excuse
me. I didn’t realize you were here.”
Ellen stood up
and bowed her head.
“No, please,
sit.” Dr. Halifax waved his hand. He went to the settee and moved Toby—who was
sitting up against the Duke—over so that he could be seated next to His Grace. He paused to tickle Colin’s stomach. The child cooed and gurgled in appreciation.
Ellen sat down,
smiling. She liked the warm interaction
of this unusual family and found it most comforting and appealing.
“I was just
about to tell His Grace that we received a letter from America—from my brother
and his wife.”
“Here, how they
doin’?” The Duke exclaimed in
excitement.
“Well, Your
Grace,” Dr. Halifax smiled, emphasizing “Your
Grace.”
“It don’t matter,
chum.” The Duke shook his head. “She don’t mind if I talk like this.”
Robert looked
cautiously at Miss Barrett.
“As I told His
Grace, this is his home and he may do as he pleases.”
“True.” The doctor nodded. “You’ll forgive me. Some people, I’ve found, might judge His Grace
harshly for something so simple.”
“I would never
do so.” Ellen replied.
“I’m happy to
know it.” The doctor smiled. “The happiness of these two people outweighs
everything else for me.”
Ellen smiled in
appreciation and understanding.
The Duke tilted
his head to one side. He looked at
Ellen. “I’m called ‘Mr. Punch.”
“I noticed.” Ellen answered.
Robert began to
look nervous.
“Don’t fret,
chum.” Mr. Punch whispered to his
friend. “We can trust her.”
The doctor
nodded, hesitantly, “I’m sure we can.”
“Only me chums
call me ‘Mr. Punch,’ but I’d like it if you did.”
“I would be
honored.” Ellen replied sincerely.
“However, we
must be careful…” Robert began.
“I would never
do so in front of the staff or visitors.
And, I would never mention it to anyone else.” Ellen said quickly.
“It’s important that
you don’t.” Robert sighed. “You see, there are some things that you don’t
know.”
“I’m sure.” Ellen said.
“Listen, chum.” The Duke/Mr. Punch began. “We trust this woman with our Colin. If we can trust her that much, we can trust
her with this. And, to be sure, it might help her to know, it might.”
“Yes, of course,
dear Punch.” Dr. Halifax nodded, putting
his arm around the Duke’s shoulders. “Miss
Barrett, what we’re about to tell you must not leave this house.”
“You can trust
me, Sir.” Ellen nodded.
“I hope so,” Robert sighed. “I truly do.”
Did you miss
Chapters 1-4? If so, you can read them
here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 5—“Childhood Friends”-- of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.
4 comments:
I love Mr. Punch! Glad to see he is staying true to himself.
And I hope that Ellen stays as true as she seems. Otherwise a few thousand of Mr. Punch's fans will find a way to go back in time and squash her.
Thank you, Darcy! Good ol' Mr. Punch--he just can't help himself sometimes.
That made me laugh, Dashwood. I like the thought of an angry mob defending Mr. Punch.
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