Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 219

Chapter 219 

And So Hopeful


“That was a disaster,” Mr. Punch sighed, putting his head on Robert’s shoulder. “I always like dinner so. But, this…this was horrid.”

Robert wrapped his arm around Punch. “I should say so.”

“Food was good.” Punch muttered as Robert played with his auburn hair. “There’s that.”

“That’s to be expected.” Robert replied. “I suppose the whole affair was to be expected. We couldn’t really think that Constance and Gertrude were going to be at ease with one another.”

“No.” Punch grumbled. “One the mistress of the other’s husband, not to mention the mother of her husband’s—one of her husband’s bastards. Both of ‘em wonderin’ where their children are. Both of ‘em thinkin’ of the man with his sister, and all of us knowin’ that Constance is under the thumb of that awful Orpha.”

Punch paused and chuckled.

“Dear Punch, what part of that long, sad account did you find humorous?”

“Awful Orpha.” Punch said slowly. “Hard to say, it is. Try it.”

“Perhaps later.” Robert patted the back of Punch’s head. “However, I am heartened that you’re able to laugh. It’s one of the things about you which I most admire—that ability of yours to find joy whenever we need it.”

“We gotta. Even when it’s difficult.” Punch sighed. He looked up at Robert. “Do ya think they’ll stay in their rooms?”

“I’m sure Gertrude will.” Robert nodded. “I can’t speak of Constance. She’s something of a mystery. She always has been. The few times when I saw her with her mother, I found her to be most disagreeable. Then, after her mother’s death, she seemed somewhat human. I can clearly see that she’s desperate, and undeniably concerned for her child, but there’s a strange loyalty that she seems to have for Orpha. When we questioned her, she was loathe to give up too much information. I couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or because she was still lying to us. Furthermore, any person who would knowingly carry on with a married man—any married man, but one like the Baron Lensdown…I…” He shook his head. “I just don’t know.”

“And, here we are, all tangled up in it.” Punch said. “And, I can’t quite figure why. There’s somethin’ that’s expected of us, but I can’t guess what it is. Bad enough that we got our own problems with this Orpha. Do we need this, too?”

“Yet, we can’t turn them away.” Robert said softly. “If only for Gertrude who has shown such kindness to us.”

“I do pity the woman.” Punch nodded, nestling deeper into Robert’s arms. “Say, Chum, you don’t think the Baron will come here tonight, do ya? You know, to look for her?”

“No.” Robert shook his head. “Frankly, I doubt he’ll even notice she’s gone—if he comes home at all. The letter that she sent said she’d likely stay the night here so she might help Lennie settle in. No doubt he won’t even get the letter until the morning when he turns up like a Tom cat.”

“What kind of life must that poor woman have?”

“I couldn’t say.” Robert replied quietly. “However, I can tell you what kind of life we’ll have if we don’t get to sleep.”

“I s’pose.” Punch answered, sitting up. “You ring for Charles first, I wanna check on Colin and I’ll take Dog Toby in the garden for his nightly air. By the time we’re back up, Charles’ll be finished with ya.”

“Let me walk you to your room, good Sir.” Robert smiled.

“If you will, please.” Punch responded in kind. “Only, I’ll only let ya if you promise to come back later.”

“You can be assured that I will.” Robert smiled.

The two left Robert’s study and walked slowly through the passage to Punch’s chamber.

Opening the door to his room, Punch yelped when he looked inside.

“What is it?” Robert asked, peering over Punch’s shoulder.

“It’s pretty,” Punch grinned, wandering to the side table next to the little sitting room off of his chamber. “Looks like a Christmas tree.”

“It’s a holly bush. Still in its pot, too. It’s the one from the terrace steps.”

“Sure is.” Mr. Punch giggled. “But, look at it.”

They studied the small holly bush. Its pot had been placed on a thick length of crimson velvet. The branches had been decorated and the “ornaments” flickered in the light of five small candles in crystal bowls which had been placed around the pot.

“What is all this?” Robert grinned.

“Look, Chum.” Punch pointed. “Those are crystal prisms off of one of the chandeliers.”

“They must be the spare prisms that Speaight keeps in his pantry should any break when they’re cleaned.” Robert nodded. “And, these here…look, they’re silver bottle tickets.”

“Whiskey, port, rye, claret,” Punch read as he studied the silver bottle tags which had been hung from the branches of the shrub.

“Oh, dear Punch, look.” Robert touched one of the decorations. It was a star, like several others, which had been cut from gold paper.

“That’s the paper what I gave the girls. The paper from the box Queen Victoria sent.”

“And, they’ve made bows from the violet ribbon.” Robert grinned.

“Why?” Punch shrugged happily. “It’s beautiful, but what’s it mean?”

“I have a feeling that homemade greetings card will explain it.” Robert pointed to a small, folded page which had been placed at the base of the pot.

Punch picked up the leaf and showed it to Robert. “Georgie drew that, I’d guess. It’s quite good.”

Robert smiled as he gazed at the somewhat rough drawing on the front of the card. Though it was the work of an amateur, it was still attractively drawn and showed that Georgie—should he be given instruction—could be quite a competent artist. The illustration, done in pencil and colored chalk, depicted a Christmas tree topped by a golden star and draped with swags of berries and fruit.

“Shall I?” Punch asked as he opened it.

“Do.” Robert nodded.

“To our dear masters,” Punch began reading. “It’s Speaight’s hand.”

“I suspect he’s the only one of the lot aside from Charles who can write very well.” Robert smiled. “Go on.”

11 June, 1853

To our dear masters…

Each of us downstairs wanted to bring some joy to you both. I, Speaight, have recorded the sentiments of each of us so that Your Grace and Dr. Halifax may know in what regard you are held by us.

Mrs. Pepper said, “I have never known two such fine gentlemen and I hope that my boy will one day grow up to be like you both.”

Charles said, “When I thought that I was quite lost, the Duke and the doctor showed me that I was not lost at all, but at the start of a new, better path.”

Gerard said, “I never had a home before. Now I do and I am thankful.”

Gamilla said, “I done learnt the true meaning of goodness from our masters.”

Violet said, “My mum used to tell me that if I was lucky, I would find a place in a house where the master treated me with respect. I am happy to tell her that I have such a place and one also where the masters treat us like friends.”

Georgie said, “I’m happy to be here with two such kind men who make me and my mum so happy and safe.”

Jenny said, “We are very lucky. And we are glad to have a lady in the house now, too.”

Ethel said, “I like the masters and the way they smile at us and joke. For once I feel like I got a place where I’m wanted.”

And, I, Speaight say, “Though I’ve served many a gentlemen, none will ever match my esteem for the Duke of Fallbridge and Dr. Robert Henry Halifax.”

We wish for our masters to feel just a bit of the joy of Christmas. Though the days are warm and long, on this night, we hope His Grace and Dr. Halifax will recall the feelings of good will and camaraderie that we all enjoy during the greatest holiday. We offer this simple symbol of our respect and affection.

Five candles have been lighted. One is for his Grace, one for the doctor, one for Miss Molliner, one for Master Colin and one, even, for dear Dog Toby. With our sincere wishes of peace and happiness, we are,

Your Humble Servants,

Morris Samuel Speaight, Marjorie Rose Pepper, Charles Lorenzo Iantosca, Gerard Gregory Gurney, Gamilla, Violet Ruth Jessop, George Albert Pepper, Ethel Tucker and Jenny Linnet

Mr. Punch looked up with tears in his eyes.

“How kind.” Robert wiped his eyes.

“When we finally have Colin’s christenin’,” Mr. Punch sniffed, “we must see to it that each of this fine folks sits at the front of the church with you and me and Lennie. And, afterwards, when we tuck away his christenin’ gown, we must press this page into the folds of it so that when the next christenin’ happens for a Fallbridge or a Molliner—our Colin’s own child, perhaps—the parents of that child will know what sort of folk lived in the home of Lord Colin Robert Julian Dearpunch Molliner and how the future Tenth Duke of Fallbridge and his papas were loved.”

“We will do just that, my dear.”

They both turned to look at the decorated shrub and smiled.

“It looks so pretty.” Punch said contentedly.

“Yes, it does,” Robert took Punch’s hand. “And, so hopeful.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-218 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here.

I’ll be taking a brief hiatus over Christmas. Chapter 220 will be posted on December 27, 2012.