Chapter 173
With Each Step
Gamilla knew that Gerard would be asleep for many more hours. The elixir which Dr. Halifax had given him not only took away the man’s suffering, but gave him the gift of a cleansing sleep. At first, Gamilla had worried about the medicine—given Gerard’s predilection for spirits and tonics which could alter his senses. However, having been present when the man’s wound was sutured, she knew the extent of the pain he must have been suffering and hoped that Gerard would not become dependent on the potion.
Actually, she knew that he wouldn’t. Gamilla vowed that he’d have no reason to desire an altered perception of life—never again. She loved him. She’d loved him since the day he first came into the kitchen at the borrowed house in New Orleans where the Duke and Dr. Halifax had stayed while in America. She loved him that very minute she saw his eyes and his scruffy face. No, she hadn’t shown it. He hadn’t deserved it then. He’d been gruff and brash and fresh. Still, even then, she knew it was all an act—some pantomime he’d devised to protect himself. All of that bravado had faded when the man began to feel accepted, to feel he’d had a home and friends and people upon whom he could rely. Even with his occasional slips with drink or medicine, he was still a fine man—a loyal man. Dr. Halifax couldn’t ask, Gamilla reasoned, for a better valet and she knew that the Duke adored the fellow he called his “beardy chum.”
So, with Gerard asleep and healing, and with Mrs. Pepper watching over young Master Colin, Gamilla made many decisions.
The first conclusion that she drew was that she’d give herself to Gerard as his wife, if he’d take her. She wasn’t sure of the laws in Britain. In America, a marriage between a colored woman and a white man would have been prohibited. But, she didn’t care about the law. Even if Queen Victoria herself came to Belgrave Square and forbade their marriage, Gamilla wouldn’t care. If she couldn’t be his wife in the eyes of the law, she’d be his wife in all other aspects. After all, the Duke and the doctor had a kind of marriage. Didn’t they? The law wouldn’t accept their union, but it didn’t stop them from living their lives together—from protecting and loving one another, from being a family. Gamilla reasoned she and Gerard could do the same. She knew she’d have the masters’ blessing.
She’d almost lost Gerard twice now. The first time when he’d been badly beaten in New Orleans. She feared for his survival then. But, this time was much worse. Much worse. Gamilla realized that there was no point in hiding her feelings. What could be wrong with love? She didn’t care to live in fear any longer.
The next conclusion that came to Gamilla was that she must rid the household of those who sought to harm the masters and her friends. They’d all suffered too much already. When she traveled, again, across the ocean to come to England, she’d gone knowing that Dr. Halifax and the Duke of Fallbridge/Mr. Punch had returned to their homeland to start a calm and happy life together. Gamilla hated that their happiness had been compromised, if not postponed. Furthermore, each person on the staff had been tormented in some way. She, Charles and Gerard—as the closest to the masters—had gotten the worst of it. Not counting, of course, Mrs. North who had given her life to protect the Duke. Mr. Speaight had been poisoned. Ethel, Jenny and Georgie had been attacked. Mrs. Pepper witnessed her own son with his life at risk. Even sweet and moody Violet had had her beautiful hair cut from her head like brush in a field. They’d all been tortured and deceived.
And, Gamilla would stand for it no more.
Ethel, Jenny, Mrs. Pepper and Georgie had argued with her when she announced that she was leaving the Duke’s chamber. Even little Dog Toby barked his opposition.
“Wait for His Grace and Dr. Halifax to come back, Love.” Mrs. Pepper had begged. “Don’t go out there on your own.”
Still, Gamilla knew that she must. Even with Finlay locked in the cellar—the very cellar where he and “Ellen” had left Mrs. North’s cold, dead body—Gamilla feared him. She knew he was dangerous wherever he was.
Perhaps the Duke hadn’t been able to take the man’s life, but Gamilla knew that she could. Not in the same way, of course. No, she’d do it in a way that was far worse—far more crippling. She’d take his life while making him live—useless, impotent, sad and weak.
Gamilla was glad, actually, that the Duke hadn’t killed Ellen and Finlay. She was relieved that such a sin would not fall upon the hands of such a fine, loving man as the Duke. He’d not have his place in heaven compromised. Gamilla knew she had already lost her spot. She had nothing to lose.
Carefully taking the extra key to the silver vault in the cellar from Mrs. North’s desk in the Housekeeper’s panty, Gamilla slowly walked toward the low, worn stone steps to the cellar.
Her smile broadened with each step.
Did you miss Chapters 1-172 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 174.
Actually, she knew that he wouldn’t. Gamilla vowed that he’d have no reason to desire an altered perception of life—never again. She loved him. She’d loved him since the day he first came into the kitchen at the borrowed house in New Orleans where the Duke and Dr. Halifax had stayed while in America. She loved him that very minute she saw his eyes and his scruffy face. No, she hadn’t shown it. He hadn’t deserved it then. He’d been gruff and brash and fresh. Still, even then, she knew it was all an act—some pantomime he’d devised to protect himself. All of that bravado had faded when the man began to feel accepted, to feel he’d had a home and friends and people upon whom he could rely. Even with his occasional slips with drink or medicine, he was still a fine man—a loyal man. Dr. Halifax couldn’t ask, Gamilla reasoned, for a better valet and she knew that the Duke adored the fellow he called his “beardy chum.”
So, with Gerard asleep and healing, and with Mrs. Pepper watching over young Master Colin, Gamilla made many decisions.
The first conclusion that she drew was that she’d give herself to Gerard as his wife, if he’d take her. She wasn’t sure of the laws in Britain. In America, a marriage between a colored woman and a white man would have been prohibited. But, she didn’t care about the law. Even if Queen Victoria herself came to Belgrave Square and forbade their marriage, Gamilla wouldn’t care. If she couldn’t be his wife in the eyes of the law, she’d be his wife in all other aspects. After all, the Duke and the doctor had a kind of marriage. Didn’t they? The law wouldn’t accept their union, but it didn’t stop them from living their lives together—from protecting and loving one another, from being a family. Gamilla reasoned she and Gerard could do the same. She knew she’d have the masters’ blessing.
She’d almost lost Gerard twice now. The first time when he’d been badly beaten in New Orleans. She feared for his survival then. But, this time was much worse. Much worse. Gamilla realized that there was no point in hiding her feelings. What could be wrong with love? She didn’t care to live in fear any longer.
The next conclusion that came to Gamilla was that she must rid the household of those who sought to harm the masters and her friends. They’d all suffered too much already. When she traveled, again, across the ocean to come to England, she’d gone knowing that Dr. Halifax and the Duke of Fallbridge/Mr. Punch had returned to their homeland to start a calm and happy life together. Gamilla hated that their happiness had been compromised, if not postponed. Furthermore, each person on the staff had been tormented in some way. She, Charles and Gerard—as the closest to the masters—had gotten the worst of it. Not counting, of course, Mrs. North who had given her life to protect the Duke. Mr. Speaight had been poisoned. Ethel, Jenny and Georgie had been attacked. Mrs. Pepper witnessed her own son with his life at risk. Even sweet and moody Violet had had her beautiful hair cut from her head like brush in a field. They’d all been tortured and deceived.
And, Gamilla would stand for it no more.
Ethel, Jenny, Mrs. Pepper and Georgie had argued with her when she announced that she was leaving the Duke’s chamber. Even little Dog Toby barked his opposition.
“Wait for His Grace and Dr. Halifax to come back, Love.” Mrs. Pepper had begged. “Don’t go out there on your own.”
Still, Gamilla knew that she must. Even with Finlay locked in the cellar—the very cellar where he and “Ellen” had left Mrs. North’s cold, dead body—Gamilla feared him. She knew he was dangerous wherever he was.
Perhaps the Duke hadn’t been able to take the man’s life, but Gamilla knew that she could. Not in the same way, of course. No, she’d do it in a way that was far worse—far more crippling. She’d take his life while making him live—useless, impotent, sad and weak.
Gamilla was glad, actually, that the Duke hadn’t killed Ellen and Finlay. She was relieved that such a sin would not fall upon the hands of such a fine, loving man as the Duke. He’d not have his place in heaven compromised. Gamilla knew she had already lost her spot. She had nothing to lose.
Carefully taking the extra key to the silver vault in the cellar from Mrs. North’s desk in the Housekeeper’s panty, Gamilla slowly walked toward the low, worn stone steps to the cellar.
Her smile broadened with each step.
Did you miss Chapters 1-172 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 174.
8 comments:
What a powerful chapter!
Thank you!
I agree. I loved it!
And, thank you, too, Marsha.
This was a very good chapter. Very moving.
Well, thanks, Matt.
Great chapter!
I appreciate that.
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