Chapter 264
What We Feared
Charles was surprised to see the bell for the front door sway and jingle in the tidy row of bells above the servants’ hall archway. He looked to Mr. Speaight who shrugged.
“Now, who could be wantin’ to see His Grace at such an early hour?” Mrs. Pepper snapped from her kitchen.
“I hope it ain’t that horrible woman again.” Gamilla muttered, mostly to herself as she passed through the servants’ hall. She carried a neatly folded pile of the baby’s linens.
“Which one is that, dear?” Mrs. Pepper called to Gamilla through the pass-through. “There’s a host of ‘em these days.”
“That woman from America.” Gamilla answered. “Miss Rittenhouse.”
“You know her, then?” Violet asked from the corner where she was sewing a lace collar to one of Miss Lennie’s new tea gowns.
“Oh, we know her.” Gamilla frowned. “Don’t we, Charlie?”
“That we do.” Charles replied stiffly. “Gerard, Gamilla and I are very familiar with her.”
“I’d like to see her,” Violet said softly. “I’ve never seen an American woman before.”
“What about Gamilla?” Georgie Pepper laughed. “She’s American.”
“Are you, Gamilla?” Violet asked innocently. “I thought you were from Africa.”
“I am.” Gamilla answered quickly.
“See.” Violet smiled at Georgie.
“But, she came here from America.” Georgie replied.
“I did. I’m from everywhere and nowhere.” Gamilla nodded. “But, I’m happy to say that I’m an English woman now and gonna be a real English wife.”
“That you are, dear.” Mrs. Pepper replied firmly from her kitchen.
“While we’re all very happy about that,” Mr. Speaight said, “it doesn’t open the door, does it?”
“I’ll go, Mr. Speaight.” Charles rose from the table. “However, if it’s Ulrika Rittenhouse returned for the Duke, I’m afraid I won’t be too kind.”
“You have my permission, Charles.” Speaight replied. “Furthermore,” he set down his newspaper and scratched his thin, carrot-colored hair. “I’ll be the first to help you boot her out.”
Charles smiled. “I shall be delighted.” Putting on his coat as he climbed the stairs, Charles hurried through the foyer to the vestibule and opened the front door.
He thought for a moment that whomever had rung had already departed and then he looked down. There stood a little girl with a filthy face and stained pink dress. Her hair was disheveled about her face, cropped crudely at the nape of her neck.
Charles knew at once who the girl was.
“Fern?” He asked.
The girl nodded.
“Where’s your mummy?”
“Gone.” Fern whispered.
“Did she send you here?” Charles asked.
Again the girl nodded. She held up a letter addressed, in Lady Constance’s hand, to the Duke of Fallbridge.
Charles looked around to see that the girl wasn’t followed and said quickly. “You must come in.”
Fern entered the house, looking around with wide eyes. Charles followed her eyes as they traveled up the banisters to the sunlight streaming through the glass dome, five stories above her.
“I used to live in a house like this.” Fern said.
“Don’t you still?” Charles asked softly.
“I haven’t been there in a long time.” Fern said. “I’ve been in a dirty place.”
“I know,” Charles answered gently. “I’m glad to see that you are no longer there. We’ve all been very worried. I can take your letter for you.”
“No.” Fern shook her head. “Mummy said to give it to His Grace.”
“I’ll take it to His Grace.”
“No.” Fern repeated. “I’m to give it to the Duke of Fallbridge myself.”
“Very well.” Charles nodded. “I will go upstairs and tell the Duke that you’re here. I’m sure you must be hungry. Why not go downstairs and tell the nice lady in the kitchens that Charles said to make you a nice breakfast. Her name is Mrs. Pepper and…”
“No.” Fern sighed. “I am here to see the Duke of Fallbridge.”
“Still, I know you’ve been away from your home for…”
“Sir,” Fern shook her head. “I’ve been in a terrible place with horrible people and a mean woman who had a…baby…with…two…” She began to cry. “Two heads.”
Charles went pale.
“Now, may I please see the Duke of Fallbridge?” She asked, wiping her eyes and regaining her composure.
“Wait here, Miss.” Charles nodded, gesturing to a plush chair beside the entry hall fire. “I will bring His Grace to you.”
“And, Dr. Halifax, too?”
“Certainly.” Charles nodded before racing up the stairs.
Upon reaching the floor of the Duke’s chamber, Charles knocked softly on the Duke’s door before opening it and entering the dark room. The sun had not yet fully risen and he was sure that the masters would still be asleep.
Dog Toby looked up from the foot of the bed and barked softly.
“Dog Toby?” Punch snuffled. He bolted upright. “Charles?”
Robert, too, began to stir.
“What’s…” Robert squinted.
“I’m sorry to wake you this way, Sirs, but,” Charles began.
“Oh, no…not more trouble.” Robert rubbed his eyes.
“Fern is in the hall.” Charles explained.
“Fern?” Punch squinted.
“Lady Constance’s daughter, Your Grace.”
“Where’s her mother?”
“The girl says she’s ‘gone.’” Charles answered.
“I wonder how she managed to get free of Orpha.” Robert climbed out of the bed.
Charles hurried over with the doctor’s dressing gown.
“The child has a letter with her, Dr. Halifax. I offered to take it to the Duke, and she insisted upon giving it to His Grace herself.”
Mr. Punch also climbed out of the bed, and was given his dressing gown by Charles. “There was no sign of Lady Constance at all?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Oh dear,” Punch muttered. “I’ve a feeling something is terrible wrong, Chum.”
“As do I, dear Punch.” Robert nodded. “Charles, tell the child to go to the kitchens and that she’s to be given her breakfast while we dress.”
“She won’t, Sir.” Charles shook his head.
“Maybe she’s shy. Poor thing’s gotta be scared. Sure, if you tell her that she’s to be our very special guest and to have all the finest we got in the kitchens…” Punch started.
“Your Grace,” Charles interrupted. “I’d thought the same thing, but this child…she’s clearly not well. She needs to see you right away. She said she was being kept in a ‘filthy place’ with cruel people and a…baby with two heads.”
Punch’s eyes widened. “Marduk!”
Robert, without a word, hurried past Charles, and to Punch whom he took by the hand.
They walked out of the room.
“Shall I come, too, Your Grace?”
“Dunno.” Punch mumbled
“Ahhh…” Robert replied as he and Punch descended the stairs. “I think not. Go downstairs and get some milk and toast for the girl. Bring on a tray. We’ll be on the morning room.”
“It’s what we feared, ain’t it, Chum?” Punch whispered.
“Yes, dear Punch, it is.” Robert nodded.
Did you miss Chapters 1-263 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 265.
Charles was surprised to see the bell for the front door sway and jingle in the tidy row of bells above the servants’ hall archway. He looked to Mr. Speaight who shrugged.
“Now, who could be wantin’ to see His Grace at such an early hour?” Mrs. Pepper snapped from her kitchen.
“I hope it ain’t that horrible woman again.” Gamilla muttered, mostly to herself as she passed through the servants’ hall. She carried a neatly folded pile of the baby’s linens.
“Which one is that, dear?” Mrs. Pepper called to Gamilla through the pass-through. “There’s a host of ‘em these days.”
“That woman from America.” Gamilla answered. “Miss Rittenhouse.”
“You know her, then?” Violet asked from the corner where she was sewing a lace collar to one of Miss Lennie’s new tea gowns.
“Oh, we know her.” Gamilla frowned. “Don’t we, Charlie?”
“That we do.” Charles replied stiffly. “Gerard, Gamilla and I are very familiar with her.”
“I’d like to see her,” Violet said softly. “I’ve never seen an American woman before.”
“What about Gamilla?” Georgie Pepper laughed. “She’s American.”
“Are you, Gamilla?” Violet asked innocently. “I thought you were from Africa.”
“I am.” Gamilla answered quickly.
“See.” Violet smiled at Georgie.
“But, she came here from America.” Georgie replied.
“I did. I’m from everywhere and nowhere.” Gamilla nodded. “But, I’m happy to say that I’m an English woman now and gonna be a real English wife.”
“That you are, dear.” Mrs. Pepper replied firmly from her kitchen.
“While we’re all very happy about that,” Mr. Speaight said, “it doesn’t open the door, does it?”
“I’ll go, Mr. Speaight.” Charles rose from the table. “However, if it’s Ulrika Rittenhouse returned for the Duke, I’m afraid I won’t be too kind.”
“You have my permission, Charles.” Speaight replied. “Furthermore,” he set down his newspaper and scratched his thin, carrot-colored hair. “I’ll be the first to help you boot her out.”
Charles smiled. “I shall be delighted.” Putting on his coat as he climbed the stairs, Charles hurried through the foyer to the vestibule and opened the front door.
He thought for a moment that whomever had rung had already departed and then he looked down. There stood a little girl with a filthy face and stained pink dress. Her hair was disheveled about her face, cropped crudely at the nape of her neck.
Charles knew at once who the girl was.
“Fern?” He asked.
The girl nodded.
“Where’s your mummy?”
“Gone.” Fern whispered.
“Did she send you here?” Charles asked.
Again the girl nodded. She held up a letter addressed, in Lady Constance’s hand, to the Duke of Fallbridge.
Charles looked around to see that the girl wasn’t followed and said quickly. “You must come in.”
Fern entered the house, looking around with wide eyes. Charles followed her eyes as they traveled up the banisters to the sunlight streaming through the glass dome, five stories above her.
“I used to live in a house like this.” Fern said.
“Don’t you still?” Charles asked softly.
“I haven’t been there in a long time.” Fern said. “I’ve been in a dirty place.”
“I know,” Charles answered gently. “I’m glad to see that you are no longer there. We’ve all been very worried. I can take your letter for you.”
“No.” Fern shook her head. “Mummy said to give it to His Grace.”
“I’ll take it to His Grace.”
“No.” Fern repeated. “I’m to give it to the Duke of Fallbridge myself.”
“Very well.” Charles nodded. “I will go upstairs and tell the Duke that you’re here. I’m sure you must be hungry. Why not go downstairs and tell the nice lady in the kitchens that Charles said to make you a nice breakfast. Her name is Mrs. Pepper and…”
“No.” Fern sighed. “I am here to see the Duke of Fallbridge.”
“Still, I know you’ve been away from your home for…”
“Sir,” Fern shook her head. “I’ve been in a terrible place with horrible people and a mean woman who had a…baby…with…two…” She began to cry. “Two heads.”
Charles went pale.
“Now, may I please see the Duke of Fallbridge?” She asked, wiping her eyes and regaining her composure.
“Wait here, Miss.” Charles nodded, gesturing to a plush chair beside the entry hall fire. “I will bring His Grace to you.”
“And, Dr. Halifax, too?”
“Certainly.” Charles nodded before racing up the stairs.
Upon reaching the floor of the Duke’s chamber, Charles knocked softly on the Duke’s door before opening it and entering the dark room. The sun had not yet fully risen and he was sure that the masters would still be asleep.
Dog Toby looked up from the foot of the bed and barked softly.
“Dog Toby?” Punch snuffled. He bolted upright. “Charles?”
Robert, too, began to stir.
“What’s…” Robert squinted.
“I’m sorry to wake you this way, Sirs, but,” Charles began.
“Oh, no…not more trouble.” Robert rubbed his eyes.
“Fern is in the hall.” Charles explained.
“Fern?” Punch squinted.
“Lady Constance’s daughter, Your Grace.”
“Where’s her mother?”
“The girl says she’s ‘gone.’” Charles answered.
“I wonder how she managed to get free of Orpha.” Robert climbed out of the bed.
Charles hurried over with the doctor’s dressing gown.
“The child has a letter with her, Dr. Halifax. I offered to take it to the Duke, and she insisted upon giving it to His Grace herself.”
Mr. Punch also climbed out of the bed, and was given his dressing gown by Charles. “There was no sign of Lady Constance at all?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Oh dear,” Punch muttered. “I’ve a feeling something is terrible wrong, Chum.”
“As do I, dear Punch.” Robert nodded. “Charles, tell the child to go to the kitchens and that she’s to be given her breakfast while we dress.”
“She won’t, Sir.” Charles shook his head.
“Maybe she’s shy. Poor thing’s gotta be scared. Sure, if you tell her that she’s to be our very special guest and to have all the finest we got in the kitchens…” Punch started.
“Your Grace,” Charles interrupted. “I’d thought the same thing, but this child…she’s clearly not well. She needs to see you right away. She said she was being kept in a ‘filthy place’ with cruel people and a…baby with two heads.”
Punch’s eyes widened. “Marduk!”
Robert, without a word, hurried past Charles, and to Punch whom he took by the hand.
They walked out of the room.
“Shall I come, too, Your Grace?”
“Dunno.” Punch mumbled
“Ahhh…” Robert replied as he and Punch descended the stairs. “I think not. Go downstairs and get some milk and toast for the girl. Bring on a tray. We’ll be on the morning room.”
“It’s what we feared, ain’t it, Chum?” Punch whispered.
“Yes, dear Punch, it is.” Robert nodded.
Did you miss Chapters 1-263 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 265.
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