Chapter 244
“Ma’am.” Johnny Donnan bowed his head to Mrs. Pepper as she opened the area door. He stood, looking thin and drawn, his hat in his hand. Next to him stood a weather-beaten old man with a shock of yellowed hair atop his cranium—silvery eyes shone out from deep within the sockets of his leather-clad skull.
“Mr. Donnan,” Mrs. Pepper said weakly.
“I’m expected.” Mr. Donnan said with a surprising politeness. “Thought it best if we did not go to the front of the house, Ma’am.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Pepper nodded, opening the door wider.
“Do ya remember me, Mrs. Pepper?” Mr. Donnan asked. “I’m from the Grange.”
“I know you.” Mrs. Pepper replied.
“This is Mr. Stover.” Johnny continued.
“Sit yourselves at the table,” Mrs. Pepper pointed to the servants’ hall. “I’ll have Mr. Speaight inform the masters that you’re here. Only don’t be expectin’ them down anytime soon. We got tragedy in the house.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Johnny nodded. “I saw the undertaker’s wagon out front.” He looked uncomfortable. “I…I…was it the young Miss? The Duke’s sister?” He looked at the floor, aware that, by then, everyone in the household knew that Lennie was his daughter whom he’d given away.
“No.” Mrs. Pepper shook her head. “Miss Molliner is well.”
“Miss Molliner?” Johnny frowned.
“That’s the woman’s name now. No reason she shouldn’t take her brother’s name. Is there? Seeing as the Duke’s the only one what every tried to make her feel part of a family since the folk what raised her died.” Mrs. Pepper snapped.
“Aye.” Johnny said softly.
“Pardon me, Mr. Donnan.” Mrs. Pepper put her hand to her forehead. “I’m not myself today.”
“You’ll pardon me sayin’ it, Missus, but your eyes do look a wee sick.” Mr. Donnan said.
“I’ve been cryin’.” Mrs. Pepper muttered.
“Forgive me for askin’ it, but who is the undertaker lookin’ after?”
“My kitchen maid.” Mrs. Pepper replied, her voice barely audible.
“Oh.” Mr. Donnan responded with sincere sadness. “Not that nice girl, Jenny?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Pepper replied stiffly.
“Oh, aye. Such a tragedy. I’m most truly sorry.”
Mrs. Pepper raised an eyebrow. “I can see you mean it, Mr. Donnan.”
“Aye, I do. When you was all at the Grange, your Jenny—she, she made special sure to see I got my tea and biscuits. Even gave me extra. Mrs. North’d never let me in the kitchens. Said I was too rough and dirty, but your Jenny, she brought me a plate and a cup like I was a gentleman.”
“Jenny treated everyone that way.”
“I did no’ deserve it, Missus.” Johnny shook his head. “Aye, but I never deserved no kindness from no one. I know that. And, I’m tryin’ to change me ways. I learnt, I did. I learnt when that foul girl, that Miss Polk, deceived me that I wasted me life causin’ pain. It were your Jenny what reminded me that a person has good in ‘im. The poor lass.”
“Go and sit at the table.” Mrs. Pepper pointed again. “I’ll bring ya your tea while you wait. Mr. Speaight will be down soon, I’m sure, and I’ll tell him to inform the masters. I don’t wish to ring for Mr. Speaight just now as there’s…” She shook her head. “As you say, ‘the poor lass.’”
“I did no’ mean to upset you more, Missus.” Johnny shook his head.
She choked back her tears. “Go and sit. No use you standing here in the vestibule. Would ya like some raisin cake?”
“I would, Missus. Only if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Ain’t trouble. I made it for tea early this mornin’…before.” She paused. “You, Mr. Stover…would you like some?”
Mr. Stover, who had been silent this entire time, nodded.
“Don’t he talk?”
“Not ‘cept when he needs to. Only when somethin’ moves ‘im. Don’t think he’s rude, Missus. Only, he had a time of it, he did. He’d been in solitary. It changes a man.”
Mrs. Pepper nodded and without further comment, went to her kitchen.
Johnny ushered Mr. Stover into the servants’ hall where they spotted Georgie and Violet speaking quietly together by the hearth at the rear of the hall. Georgie sat cross-legged on the floor and Violet sat near him on a low footstool. They’d both obviously been crying.
When Violet spotted Johnny Donnan, she gasped and rose quickly, upsetting the stool.
Georgie sprang up and stepped in front of the maid.
“Not to fear, lad. I ain’t gonna hurt ya nor the pretty miss.”
“Not so pretty with my hair all chopped off.” Violet spat.
“I’m sorry for me part in all that, lass. I mean it truly.” Johnny said. “And, I’m sorry that the fine girl called Jenny was taken from ya.”
“Come on, Vi.” Georgie frowned. “Let’s go into the kitchens with my mum.”
“Lad, I understand ya distrusting me.” Johnny said sheepishly. “You’re a gentleman to wish to protect the lass. I’d not trust me neither. Only, can you tell me? Was there illness in the house? Was it sickness what took the girl?”
“No. She was killed.” Georgie replied stiffly.
“She never was.” Johnny shook his head. “Who’d do such a thing?”
“We don’t know.” Georgie replied. “We know nothing. Jenny was with Ethel, but Ethel won’t speak except to cry or say that Jenny’s gone. Not even to the beadle. Nor the inspector. Nor even the Duke nor Dr. Halifax nor Miss Molliner. Won’t even leave Jenny with the undertaker. Poor thing…”
“Georgie,” Violet whispered. “I want to go.”
“Take the lass to the kitchens, then.” Johnny said sadly. “There’s a lad. You make your mother proud, I’m sure. My own son is dead and gone.”
“Yes,” George nodded, recalling Finlay.
“I was unkind to him.” Johnny said quickly. “I hate me-self for it. I’ll hate myself ‘til I’m rotted in the ground. Pardon me sayin’ it. He could no’ help what he was. But, I can help what I am. Lad, when you have a boy of your own, treat him like your mother does you—with kindness and a gentle hand.”
George blinked a few times and nodded, unsure of what to say. He then took Violet by the hand and led her to the kitchens.
Alone with Mr. Stover, Johnny looked at the silent, cadaverous old man and sighed. “How I must sound to you. All my bluster and fists before. What’d it get me? All that blood I shed. All them bones I broke. All them times I made a person cry. What’d it get me? I stand here with no wife, no son…me daughter lost to me, takin’ the name of the man I cuckolded. Yet, look at this house. Here, the guts of the thing…the place where them servants work. Yet, they’re more a family, more lovin’, more loyal than anyone of my own kin ever once was to me. It coulda been different. Aye, it coulda been only I didn’t let it.”
Wordlessly, Mr. Stover sat down at the table and stared at the bowl of fruit at the center.
“We’re old, Jonas.” Johnny sat as well. “No one wants us. I beat ‘em all away, and, you…you with your black soul. You only wanted to fill that darkness in ya by stealin’. But, we got nothin’. Me no one to love me. And, you…no brain at all. Yet, here we live when a young lass…she could not have been more than fifteen, Jonas…she’s gone to the Maker. Gone at the hand of some fool like me. I asked just now who would do such a thing. But, I know. I’d ‘ave done it me-self before me own heart—what little I had—was ripped out by that Orpha Polk. I got what I deserved. But, that girl—she shoulda lived. Shoulda fallen in love. Maybe even with that nice Pepper boy. She coulda had wee ones o’ her own. Children to love her.” He shook his head.
Thumping the table, Johnny sighed again. “I’ve still strength in me bones. All that strength I used to make pain. We gotta use it now, Jonas. We gotta use it to help the Duke free himself and his family from the pain what’s been done to ‘im. If only I knew it weren’t too late for us. If only I knew that someone somewhere could see that I changed me ways.”
Mr. Stover nodded. He paused and looked up to the vaulted ceiling.
“What do ya see?” Johnny asked.
Mr. Stover pointed.
“I see nothin’.” Johnny continued
Mr. Stover pointed again.
Johnny squinted. “Ah,” He nodded. “I see her now. Still makin’ sure I got me tea. Poor lass.”
Mr. Stover nodded again.
“Our angel.” Mr. Stover whispered hoarsely.
Did you miss Chapters 1-243 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 245.
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