Chapter 106:
A Wee Chip
“Gamilla,” Mr. Punch knelt down next to Gamilla and took her hand in his. “Are you sure it were Gerry what gave ya the whiskey?”
Gamilla’s eyes filled with tears and she looked downward.
“Honey,” Gerard started, “I wouldn’t do that to ya. You know it?”
Gamilla moaned softly.
“Let’s get her back to her room.” Robert said softly.
Robert helped Mr. Punch to his feet just as Mrs. North entered the vestibule. Punch quickly fixed his face into an appropriately ducal expression.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. North smiled. “I jus’ wanted ya to know that your Mr. Speaight has sent Charles to look after young master Colin ‘til the wee African girl is able to do her duties. Poor thin’.”
“Thank you, Mrs. North.” Robert said. “We’re just about to…”
“Ach!” Mrs. North interrupted. “There’s me beaker.” She pointed to the earthenware vessel which had been placed on the narrow table between the wine cellars and silver vaults.
“Your beaker, Mrs. North?” Mr. Punch smiled.
“Aye,” Mrs. North replied. “Me favorite. A gift from the staff to me on the occasion of her Majesty’s Silver Jubilee last year. How touched I was and all. Use it each night, aye. I’d left it by me spot at the table last night and wondered where it went to.”
“This is your beaker?” Robert squinted.
“Sure, it is.” Mrs. North nodded. “I must confess, Doctor, the cold gets in me ol’ bones after all these years in this place. I take a wee draught of whiskey each night to warm me so that I might sleep. Don’t you worry none, Your Grace,” she turned to the Duke. “I buy me own. I don’t take it from the cellars.”
“I’m not concerned.” Mr. Punch grinned broadly. He was so pleased, in fact, that it was difficult not to whoop in his usually Punchinello way, and he had to bite his lip to keep an appropriately aristocratic air about himself in front of Mrs. North. “You may have as much of my whiskey as you like, Mrs. North.”
“Ach,” Mrs. North frowned, looking at Gamilla. “Is that what’s happened? Has the wee African girl gotten into me whiskey? Aye…I did no’ think of it. Your Mr. Gurney has a beaker a might like this, if not the same. Don’t ya, Gerard?”
“I do.” Gerard nodded.
“Gamilla,” Mrs. North continued. She looked down at the girl. “Did you drink from the beaker, thinkin’ it was your Gerard’s?”
Gamilla wiped her eyes. “Yes.”
“I had seen ya lookin’ for ‘im. Had a bit of a row, did ya?” Mrs. North winked. “Poor girl looked distraught. When she did no’ find the lad, I reckon she sipped from his beaker, thinkin’ o’ bein’ close to ‘im.”
Gamilla nodded.
“You’re sure this is your beaker, Mrs. North?” Robert asked
“Sure as I’m awake, Doctor.” Mrs. North nodded. “Got a wee chip in the handle.”
Punch walked over and studied the mug. “It does.”
“I’ll take that, if you will, Your Grace.” Mrs. North smiled. Mr. Punch handed her the mug. “Gerard’s beaker is in his kit where he always keeps it. If ya don’t believe me, I’ll have the man get his kit to show ya.”
“We believe you, Mrs. North.” Robert shook his head.
“So, this was all an accident.” Mr. Punch smiled, speaking in Julian’s voice.
“Yes.” Mrs. North nodded firmly. “Aye, but we know the girl would no’ take a drink, and, we know that your Mr. Gurney is a fine and sober hard worker.”
“Yes, we do.” Robert smiled.
“Thank you, Mrs. North.” Gerard whispered.
“Nothin’ to thank me for, laddie. Jus’ wanted me beaker and to make sure that the wee African girl wasn’t too sick. But, she ain’t sick at all, is she? Nah. Jus’ needs to sleep it off. Not used to spirits.”
“I think we should take Gamilla to her room now.” Robert said.
“Aye, you do that, Doctor. And, Gamilla, I’ll come and sit with ya for awhile if you’d like. When I was your age, I had too much whiskey once. I was a maid jus’ like you and I remember the housekeeper came and sat with me and rubbed me head and stroked me hair. She was a fine lady and I’m grateful for it to this day.”
“Thank you.” Gamilla whispered.
“You jus’ know, Gamilla,” Mrs. North said. “While you’re here at the Grange, I’m gonna see that no harm comes to ya. Not only are ya a favorite of the masters, you’re a favorite of mine for how loyal you are to ‘em.”
For the first time that morning, Gamilla smiled.
“See, girl.” Mrs. North continued, as Robert and Gerard helped Gamilla to her feet. “All will be well. Ya ain’t got a thin’ to worry ‘bout. Now, you just rest and feel better for ya got to be beautiful for the ball tonight. You’ll dance, you will. You’ll dance with your Gerard and be very happy.”
Gamilla nodded.
“Sure, we’ll dance Gamilla.” Gerard said softly. “Listen, love, I’m sorry for…”
Gamilla shook her head. “No. Ain’t no reason for to tell me that. We ain’t got nothin’ for to be sorry ‘bout.”
Gerard smiled.
“If you two have Gamilla,” Mr. Punch said, “I’m going to go to the nursery to relieve Charles. He’s got more to do than watch Colin, and, I’d like to stay with my boy anyway. Dr. Halifax, will you join me after you’ve dressed?”
“Of course,” Robert nodded.
“Mrs. North,” Punch smiled. “Dr. Halifax and I will take breakfast on trays in my room. Will you, please, tell Mrs. Pepper?”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” Mrs. North nodded. “Aye, girl,” she looked at Gamilla. “Let the doctor and your Gerard settle ya in. I’ll be up for ya shortly and we’ll get ya feelin’ better so you can be the belle of the ball.”
Gamilla nodded. “Mrs. North…”
“I know all ‘bout it, girl.” Mrs. North winked. “Ain’t no reason to worry.”
As Robert and Gerard helped Gamilla out of the vestibule, Mr. Punch looked quizzically at Mrs. North. In his most aristocratic voice, he asked. “About what would she be worried, Mrs. North?”
“Ah, you know how lasses are, Your Grace.”
“Not really.”
“Well, Sir, they’re always worried before a ball, ‘bout bein’ pretty and light. Poor girl didn’t expect this, but she’ll be the prettiest creature there.”
Mr. Punch nodded. “Good morning, Mrs. North.”
“Your Grace,” She smiled.
Mrs. North waited a few moments for the Duke to make his way from the Servants’ Hall and then, she charged up the short flight of stairs form the cellars in search of Finlay whom she found in the pantry.
“Finlay Donnan,” Mrs. North scowled.
“Yes, Mrs. North.” Finlay smiled.
“Do you remember when you was a lad and your da’ would bloody ya with his belt?”
Finlay squinted. “Yes.”
“Always tried to get ‘im to stop.” Mrs. North barked. “Now, I wish that Johnny Donnan would come up here and take his belt to ya ‘gain.”
Finlay smiled. “Why is this?”
“I don’t know what you’re ‘bout, Finlay.” Mrs. North said angrily. “But, I saw ya last night. I saw ya threaten that poor girl. And, I heard ya! Tellin’ her ya’d hurt her beau or worse if she didn’t do what ya said. I heard what ya said ‘bout the master’s baby, too.”
Finlay narrowed his eyes. “I think you’re mistaken, Mrs. North.”
“Nah.” Mrs. North shook her head. “I ain’t gonna let ya get away with it. Forcin’ that poor girl to drink them spirits…”
“Oh.” Finlay cocked his head to one side.
“After the ball, I’m goin’ to the masters to tell ‘em all I saw.”
“Why not right now?” Finlay laughed. “Since you’re so convinced of my sins.”
“The masters are not gonna have this ball ruined for ‘em—‘specially not the Duke who’s been lookin’ forward to this for days. But, the minute it’s over…mark my words.” She took Finlay’s arm in her hand. “You’re gonna stay ‘way from the African girl and Gerard. You’ll do what’s expected of ya tonight, and, then, you’ll meet me in the kitchens so I can call for the masters.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“I know ya will, Finlay. Where would ya go otherwise? No other household in Scotland would have ya? Your only chance not to starve is to cooperate with me. If I see ya cooperate today, maybe I’ll think ‘bout pleadin’ with the masters not to sack ya. It all depends on you.”
“How kind.” Finlay smirked.
“Look, lad.” Mrs. North said softly. “I known ya since ya was a wee babe. I saw ya grow into the man ya are today, and when your ma was gone, I felt like maybe you were me own boy. It broke my heart to think you’d be so rough with a young lady. What I saw last night—it broke me heart. But, Finlay, I do love ya like you were me own. Jus’ be a good lad tonight, please. If ya are, I’ll see that the masters is good to ya.”
“Why tell them at all?”
“I gotta.” Mrs. North shook her head. “It’s me duty. You understand, Finlay. It’s honor.”
“I know all about honor, Mrs. North.” Finlay smiled. “I assure you. I will be a very, very good lad tonight.”
“I knew you would.” Mrs. North patted Finlay’s arm. “Now, look smart. We’ve much to do.”
“Much, Mrs. North. Much.” Finlay grinned.
Did you miss Chapters 1-105 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 107.
“Gamilla,” Mr. Punch knelt down next to Gamilla and took her hand in his. “Are you sure it were Gerry what gave ya the whiskey?”
Gamilla’s eyes filled with tears and she looked downward.
“Honey,” Gerard started, “I wouldn’t do that to ya. You know it?”
Gamilla moaned softly.
“Let’s get her back to her room.” Robert said softly.
Robert helped Mr. Punch to his feet just as Mrs. North entered the vestibule. Punch quickly fixed his face into an appropriately ducal expression.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. North smiled. “I jus’ wanted ya to know that your Mr. Speaight has sent Charles to look after young master Colin ‘til the wee African girl is able to do her duties. Poor thin’.”
“Thank you, Mrs. North.” Robert said. “We’re just about to…”
“Ach!” Mrs. North interrupted. “There’s me beaker.” She pointed to the earthenware vessel which had been placed on the narrow table between the wine cellars and silver vaults.
“Your beaker, Mrs. North?” Mr. Punch smiled.
“Aye,” Mrs. North replied. “Me favorite. A gift from the staff to me on the occasion of her Majesty’s Silver Jubilee last year. How touched I was and all. Use it each night, aye. I’d left it by me spot at the table last night and wondered where it went to.”
“This is your beaker?” Robert squinted.
“Sure, it is.” Mrs. North nodded. “I must confess, Doctor, the cold gets in me ol’ bones after all these years in this place. I take a wee draught of whiskey each night to warm me so that I might sleep. Don’t you worry none, Your Grace,” she turned to the Duke. “I buy me own. I don’t take it from the cellars.”
“I’m not concerned.” Mr. Punch grinned broadly. He was so pleased, in fact, that it was difficult not to whoop in his usually Punchinello way, and he had to bite his lip to keep an appropriately aristocratic air about himself in front of Mrs. North. “You may have as much of my whiskey as you like, Mrs. North.”
“Ach,” Mrs. North frowned, looking at Gamilla. “Is that what’s happened? Has the wee African girl gotten into me whiskey? Aye…I did no’ think of it. Your Mr. Gurney has a beaker a might like this, if not the same. Don’t ya, Gerard?”
“I do.” Gerard nodded.
“Gamilla,” Mrs. North continued. She looked down at the girl. “Did you drink from the beaker, thinkin’ it was your Gerard’s?”
Gamilla wiped her eyes. “Yes.”
“I had seen ya lookin’ for ‘im. Had a bit of a row, did ya?” Mrs. North winked. “Poor girl looked distraught. When she did no’ find the lad, I reckon she sipped from his beaker, thinkin’ o’ bein’ close to ‘im.”
Gamilla nodded.
“You’re sure this is your beaker, Mrs. North?” Robert asked
“Sure as I’m awake, Doctor.” Mrs. North nodded. “Got a wee chip in the handle.”
Punch walked over and studied the mug. “It does.”
“I’ll take that, if you will, Your Grace.” Mrs. North smiled. Mr. Punch handed her the mug. “Gerard’s beaker is in his kit where he always keeps it. If ya don’t believe me, I’ll have the man get his kit to show ya.”
“We believe you, Mrs. North.” Robert shook his head.
“So, this was all an accident.” Mr. Punch smiled, speaking in Julian’s voice.
“Yes.” Mrs. North nodded firmly. “Aye, but we know the girl would no’ take a drink, and, we know that your Mr. Gurney is a fine and sober hard worker.”
“Yes, we do.” Robert smiled.
“Thank you, Mrs. North.” Gerard whispered.
“Nothin’ to thank me for, laddie. Jus’ wanted me beaker and to make sure that the wee African girl wasn’t too sick. But, she ain’t sick at all, is she? Nah. Jus’ needs to sleep it off. Not used to spirits.”
“I think we should take Gamilla to her room now.” Robert said.
“Aye, you do that, Doctor. And, Gamilla, I’ll come and sit with ya for awhile if you’d like. When I was your age, I had too much whiskey once. I was a maid jus’ like you and I remember the housekeeper came and sat with me and rubbed me head and stroked me hair. She was a fine lady and I’m grateful for it to this day.”
“Thank you.” Gamilla whispered.
“You jus’ know, Gamilla,” Mrs. North said. “While you’re here at the Grange, I’m gonna see that no harm comes to ya. Not only are ya a favorite of the masters, you’re a favorite of mine for how loyal you are to ‘em.”
For the first time that morning, Gamilla smiled.
“See, girl.” Mrs. North continued, as Robert and Gerard helped Gamilla to her feet. “All will be well. Ya ain’t got a thin’ to worry ‘bout. Now, you just rest and feel better for ya got to be beautiful for the ball tonight. You’ll dance, you will. You’ll dance with your Gerard and be very happy.”
Gamilla nodded.
“Sure, we’ll dance Gamilla.” Gerard said softly. “Listen, love, I’m sorry for…”
Gamilla shook her head. “No. Ain’t no reason for to tell me that. We ain’t got nothin’ for to be sorry ‘bout.”
Gerard smiled.
“If you two have Gamilla,” Mr. Punch said, “I’m going to go to the nursery to relieve Charles. He’s got more to do than watch Colin, and, I’d like to stay with my boy anyway. Dr. Halifax, will you join me after you’ve dressed?”
“Of course,” Robert nodded.
“Mrs. North,” Punch smiled. “Dr. Halifax and I will take breakfast on trays in my room. Will you, please, tell Mrs. Pepper?”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” Mrs. North nodded. “Aye, girl,” she looked at Gamilla. “Let the doctor and your Gerard settle ya in. I’ll be up for ya shortly and we’ll get ya feelin’ better so you can be the belle of the ball.”
Gamilla nodded. “Mrs. North…”
“I know all ‘bout it, girl.” Mrs. North winked. “Ain’t no reason to worry.”
As Robert and Gerard helped Gamilla out of the vestibule, Mr. Punch looked quizzically at Mrs. North. In his most aristocratic voice, he asked. “About what would she be worried, Mrs. North?”
“Ah, you know how lasses are, Your Grace.”
“Not really.”
“Well, Sir, they’re always worried before a ball, ‘bout bein’ pretty and light. Poor girl didn’t expect this, but she’ll be the prettiest creature there.”
Mr. Punch nodded. “Good morning, Mrs. North.”
“Your Grace,” She smiled.
Mrs. North waited a few moments for the Duke to make his way from the Servants’ Hall and then, she charged up the short flight of stairs form the cellars in search of Finlay whom she found in the pantry.
“Finlay Donnan,” Mrs. North scowled.
“Yes, Mrs. North.” Finlay smiled.
“Do you remember when you was a lad and your da’ would bloody ya with his belt?”
Finlay squinted. “Yes.”
“Always tried to get ‘im to stop.” Mrs. North barked. “Now, I wish that Johnny Donnan would come up here and take his belt to ya ‘gain.”
Finlay smiled. “Why is this?”
“I don’t know what you’re ‘bout, Finlay.” Mrs. North said angrily. “But, I saw ya last night. I saw ya threaten that poor girl. And, I heard ya! Tellin’ her ya’d hurt her beau or worse if she didn’t do what ya said. I heard what ya said ‘bout the master’s baby, too.”
Finlay narrowed his eyes. “I think you’re mistaken, Mrs. North.”
“Nah.” Mrs. North shook her head. “I ain’t gonna let ya get away with it. Forcin’ that poor girl to drink them spirits…”
“Oh.” Finlay cocked his head to one side.
“After the ball, I’m goin’ to the masters to tell ‘em all I saw.”
“Why not right now?” Finlay laughed. “Since you’re so convinced of my sins.”
“The masters are not gonna have this ball ruined for ‘em—‘specially not the Duke who’s been lookin’ forward to this for days. But, the minute it’s over…mark my words.” She took Finlay’s arm in her hand. “You’re gonna stay ‘way from the African girl and Gerard. You’ll do what’s expected of ya tonight, and, then, you’ll meet me in the kitchens so I can call for the masters.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“I know ya will, Finlay. Where would ya go otherwise? No other household in Scotland would have ya? Your only chance not to starve is to cooperate with me. If I see ya cooperate today, maybe I’ll think ‘bout pleadin’ with the masters not to sack ya. It all depends on you.”
“How kind.” Finlay smirked.
“Look, lad.” Mrs. North said softly. “I known ya since ya was a wee babe. I saw ya grow into the man ya are today, and when your ma was gone, I felt like maybe you were me own boy. It broke my heart to think you’d be so rough with a young lady. What I saw last night—it broke me heart. But, Finlay, I do love ya like you were me own. Jus’ be a good lad tonight, please. If ya are, I’ll see that the masters is good to ya.”
“Why tell them at all?”
“I gotta.” Mrs. North shook her head. “It’s me duty. You understand, Finlay. It’s honor.”
“I know all about honor, Mrs. North.” Finlay smiled. “I assure you. I will be a very, very good lad tonight.”
“I knew you would.” Mrs. North patted Finlay’s arm. “Now, look smart. We’ve much to do.”
“Much, Mrs. North. Much.” Finlay grinned.
Did you miss Chapters 1-105 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 107.
4 comments:
I think I hate Finlay as much as Marsha hates Ellen. And, as for Ellen, I totally agree with Marsha's opinion of her.
They ARE both insufferable.
I SO agree. I want to strange him! I liked Mrs. North today but I have a bad feeling about all of this.
I think a lot of people want to strangle Finlay. : )
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