Chapter 51:
The Unexpected Houseguest
Mr. Punch took a deep breath as he climbed the final few stairs to the attics of his Belgrave Square townhouse. Even though every room in the house technically belonged to him, he was always uncomfortable going to the attics. In fact, he had only done so a few times. To Punch, those rooms belonged to the staff. They were their homes, their private spaces—the only place in the house where they were the master of something entirely unique to them. Mr. Punch, being sensitive to such things, was always shy to bother the servants when they were in their rooms.
Still, he had no choice. As the sun yawned to cast dusty, sooty rays across the white, columned facades of Belgrave Square, Punch had already been awake all night. He hadn’t even tried to sleep. He stayed at Robert’s side, watching as his companion fell into a fitful sleep. And once the man was slumbering, Punch stroked Robert’s dark hair and whispered soothing things. At one point, just for a few moments, Punch rose from his spot next to Robert—making sure to move Dog Toby to Robert’s side so that the rattled man would not feel alone. During those brief minutes, Punch had crept to the floor above to look-in on the nursery where he saw Colin sleeping peacefully with Gamilla snoozing in a chair by the fire. Satisfied, Punch returned to Robert and Dog Toby and remained there until Gerard came to help them dress.
Gerard showed he was cheerful, but groggy. Punch couldn’t tell if it was the injury Gerard had sustained to his head which caused Robert’s valet’s listlessness or the medication which Robert had prescribed for the pain. Briefly, Punch thought that Gerard had been acting peculiar ever since Charles had fallen down the service stairs, but he didn’t think anything of it—his mind was elsewhere. Gerard tried his best to help his two masters with their morning routine. He truly did, but clearly looking after the Duke and the Doctor both was too much for him.
“I’m sorry for bein’ so clumsy, Sir.” Punch had heard Gerard say to Robert. “We’ll get everything back in regular order when Charles is free again.”
Robert mumbled something in response about it being important for Charles to stay at Ellen’s side while Mr. Barrett was still in the house. And, this—this was the problem. Mr. Barrett was still in the house. Not only that, but he had long-ago awakened from the heavy drugs Robert had given him. Mr. Barrett was alert and confused, and Punch didn’t care much for this. The idea that this man—this poor, sad, ill man—was in the same home as Punch’s son, companion and friends, bothered and concerned Mr. Punch endlessly.
One characteristic shared by Punch and the Duke with whom he shared his body (among many others which typically went unnoticed and unexplored) was a distinct fear of the unknown. While Julian was crippled by this fear, Punch found it motivating. And, so, once Punch was content that Robert was being looked-after by Gerard, he slipped from his bedchamber and tip-toed up the two flights to the attic room where Charles and Ellen guarded their unexpected houseguest.
He knocked gently on the door to the room which once belonged to Hortence and smiled when Charles opened it.
“Mornin’, Charles.” Mr. Punch nodded.
“Good morning, Your Grace. Was Gerard able to take up my duties today?”
“Fairly well.” Mr. Punch shrugged. “Dr. Halifax is dressing now. I come up here to visit with you and Miss and Mr. Barrett.”
“Who’s that?” a voice asked from inside. Punch knew that the voice came from Mr. Barrett, yet it was a voice which Punch had not heard before. How many people lived within that man?
“Roger, it’s His Grace, the Duke of Fallbridge.” Punch heard Ellen explain.
“Who’s that?” Roger asked.
“My employer. The man to whom this house belongs. You know him. He’s been so kind these past weeks, helping to look after you.” Ellen answered.
“Come in, Your Grace.” Charles whispered.
“Is he…” Punch began.
“He’s calm, Sir.” Charles nodded.
Punch entered the small room and smiled a greeting at Roger Barrett.
“What are you smiling at?” Mr. Barrett asked.
“I typically try to greet my houseguests with a smile.” Punch responded, feeling the need to speak as Julian might instead of in his usual manner.
Roger narrowed his eyes and studied Mr. Punch. “I know you. You’re the puppet man.” This time when he spoke his voice was more familiar to Punch. “Where are they? The puppets?”
“It’s too early for them,” Punch replied.
“I see,” Roger Barrett nodded considerately. “Well, I understand that.”
“How is your head, Mr. Barrett?”
“My head?” Roger squinted. “What’s wrong with my head?”
“You were injured.” Ellen whispered.
“No, I wasn’t.” Mr. Barrett replied. He reached up and felt his forehead. “Oh—well…maybe…” He yelped in panic. “How…who did that? When? How…”
“Mr. Barrett,” Mr. Punch smiled. “You need not fear anything. You’re quite safe. My companion, Dr. Halifax, has tended to your wounds and you’re quite well now. You just need rest.”
“Who are you?” Mr. Barrett mumbled.
“I’m the Duke of Fallbridge,” Punch smiled.
“Right.” Mr. Barrett nodded.
“Roger…” Ellen began.
“What?” Mr. Barrett grunted. “What’s this woman talking about?”
“Might I ask what you’re called?” Mr. Punch said, continuing to smile.
“Lawrence.” The man replied.
“So, you’re Lawrence?” Punch nodded.
“Well, of course I am!” The man spat.
“Very well, Lawrence.” Mr. Punch replied. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” Mr. Barrett smirked. “Are you?”
“Well, yes.” Mr. Punch chuckled. “Usually.”
“That must be difficult for you.” Mr. Barrett sighed.
Punch looked at Charles and chuckled.
“What’s funny?” Mr. Barrett snapped.
“Nothing at all.” Mr. Punch replied. “Now, Lawrence, I think it’s time that you go home to your apartments and rest.”
“Isn’t this my flat?” Mr. Barrett asked.
“No, this is a room in the attics of my house.”
“Oh.” Mr. Barrett nodded. “Oh! You’re the puppet man! Where are they? Where are the puppets.”
“Roger…” Ellen whispered again.
“Who is this woman?” Mr. Barrett growled.
“She’s your sister, mate!” Charles snapped.
“I have no sister, Sir.” Mr. Barrett sighed.
A knock on the door made them all turn as Robert quietly entered the room.
“Another man!” Mr. Barrett barked.
“Good morning,” Robert nodded. “How are we today?” Robert added softly to Punch, “And who?”
“Dunno, chum.” Punch whispered. “He’s been four different blokes since I been in here.”
“Stop speaking about me as if I wasn’t here.” Mr. Barrett moaned.
“My apologies.” Robert nodded. “Sir, are you up for a carriage ride?”
“That depends…” Mr. Barrett squinted. “Where’m I goin’?”
“Back to your rooms.” Robert smiled.
“Sir?” Ellen rose. “Is it wise to send him back?”
“We have no choice, Miss Barrett.” Robert answered irritably. “We have an inspector from Whitehall coming this morning. Or didn’t you know?”
“Charles told me all that happened here last night,” Ellen nodded slowly.
“So, I’m sure you can agree that your brother must return to his rooms.” Robert replied curtly.
“Why do you keep sayin’ this woman’s my sister?”
“Because she is, mate.” Charles grumbled.
“Is she?” Mr. Barrett asked. “Are you my brother, then?”
“No.” Charles shook his head.
“What of them two?” Mr. Barrett asked. “I like the looks of the one with the dark ginger hair. He’s some Scotch in ‘im. Right? Maybe he’s my brother.”
“No. Well, yes. I…I do have some Scottish blood. On my father’s side.” Mr. Punch replied quickly. “However, I’m not your brother, but I like to think that I’m your friend.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.” Mr. Punch nodded.
“Oh…yes, you’re the puppet man.”
“I am.” Mr. Punch answered patiently. “I have a proposal for you. You see, my companion here…”
“Who’s he?”
“He’s my companion.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.” Mr. Punch snorted. “He lives here with me. He’s a fine gentleman who has spent his life helping other people. He’s your friend, too.”
“You don’t say?”
“I do.”
“How nice for me, then.” Mr. Barrett smiled.
“I don’t know how you manage it.” Robert whispered.
“Chum…” Punch shrugged. He smiled again at Mr. Barrett. “My companion has sent a letter this morning to a very kind man. This man will be at your rooms when you arrive and he’s also going to be your friend. He is called James.”
“Why will he be at my rooms?”
“So that you always have a friend with you.” Punch forced a smile.
“Oh.” Mr. Barrett nodded. “I think that would be lovely.” He paused and his expression changed. “What do you think, Ellen?”
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