A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 101

Chapter 101
Gone Mad Again


Quick threw open the trapdoor and climbed into a back passageway of the parsonage.  This particular hallway was not often used and essentially led to a cupboard used for the airing of linens a small sleeping nook meant to give sanctuary to traveling pilgrims.  A central doorway led to the main passage.  From there, Quick stumbled into the front parlor and called for Hargrave and Causer.

"What's the trouble now?"  Hargrave bellowed.

"Just come with me," Mr. Quick snapped.  "The Lobster Woman has gone mad again."

"You're surprised by this?"  Hargrave laughed.

"Cor,"  Causer added, lumbering behind the land agent.  "What's it matter now?  Come nightfall, we're just gonna take 'er head.  The rest o' her is for the worms.  It'll be a treat for 'em.  I don't 'magine they get a lobster feast very often."  He chortled at his own joke.

"She ain't really a lobster."  Hargrave growled.

"Well, I know that."  Causer grunted.  "I were only tryin' t'..."

"Would you both please..."  Quick inhaled, pausing.  "I need your help.  We can't have her shrieking and panting like a madwoman.  She's contorting her face into all manner of strange expressions.  We need the muscles of the face to be relaxed and beautiful before we remove her head.  We cannot give Her Grace a face that's wretched and twisted with madness."

"What do ya want us to do about it?"  Hargrave shrugged.  

"Yeah, you brought down more o' that elixir, didn't ya?  So...give her some o' that.  That oughta shut 'er up."

Quick snorted in frustration.  "That will make her sleep, yes, but, it won't calm her.  She won't relax, it will only serve to freeze her in her current state."

"Dunno what you want me to do,"  Hargrave shook his head.  "Shall I go whisper in 'er ear?  Maybe tell 'er how I fancy 'er?  Give 'er a little peck on the cheek?"

"Cor!"  Causer laughed.

"You two brutes take nothing seriously!"  Quick barked.  "No!  Ivy and Jackson, if you'll recall, created a sort of pacifier for the woman..."

"Right."  Hargrave nodded.  "That big glass jar o' oil, all filled up with them dolls' heads."

"Yes,"  Quick nodded.  "She was always fascinated by it, and would stare at it for hours.  We need to get it."

"Can't."  Hargrave shook his head.

"And, why not?"

"'Cause it's in the the big bouse, Mr. Quick."  Hargrave replied mockingly.  "Because it's up there..."  he pointed toward Fallbridge Hall.  And, so is the Duke and Lord Colinshire and their men, and their folk and some visiting earl and a bunch o' folk who're already suspicious o' us.  So, mightn't it look a little queer if we went in there and said, 'oh, we just need this thing what your missin' auntie likes even though we don't know where she is, Your Grace'?"

"Then, go in and get it without being seen!"  Quick ordered.

"Dunno where it is!"  Causer answered.  "Case you haven't noticed, it's a big place.  Could be anywhere.  As could any number of people who'd be more than 'appy to tell the Duke we ain't where we're s'posed to be."

"Ivy will know where it is.  Ask  her, and, then, figure out a way to get it!"  Quick demanded.

"Mr. Quick,"  Hargrave began.

"No arguments..."

"There's gotta be another way to..."  Causer interrupted.

Quick wouldn't listen.  "I've left them too long."  He said.  "I must return to them and prepare Perkins for this evening."

With that, he walked away and exited to the little passageway wherein the trapdoor to the cavern was hidden.  Descending the ladder, he could already hear Morgana's mad chatter.

"Heads, heads, heads, h...hea...heads."  She continued, feigning her obsession.  

"Yes, yes."  Quick spat.  "We'll see what we can do for you."  

He turned to Fred.  "I see, you've finally fully undressed."  His face blanched.  "Where's George?"

"George took a drink o' that water there."  Fred pointed to the jug which Quick had brought down earlier, "and, he felt sleepy, so he curled up under his blanket and went to sleep."

"I see."  Quick nodded.

"He's over there."  Fred indicated to a lump in the fetal position in the corner, under a blanket--just behind Morgana.

"Take off your blanket."  Quick growled to Fred.

Morgana began to screech and moan.

"Quiet, you!"  Quick bellowed.  "Make yourself useful.  Go...go and fold the lad's clothes.  Fred, where are your clothes?"

Fred blushed.

Quick narrowed his eyes.  "Fred, where are your clothes?"

"I..."  Fred stammered.

"He...h...he used them to dress Will...William."  Morgana spoke up.

"I thought you'd gone mad."  Quick said snidely.  "Is that so?  You dressed the corpse?"

"For his dignity."  Fred nodded.

"Show me."  Quick smiled.

"We...we moved him."  Fred answered.

Quick looked around the cavern.  Indeed, William's body was not where it has fallen.

"Where?"  Quick demanded.

"Further down the tunnel."  Fred lied.

Quick clenched his fists.  He then ran over to "George," and pulled the blanket from him.

"This isn't George Pepper!"  Quick shouted.  "This is little, dead William!  And, he's not dressed!"  Panting, Quick flew into a rage.  "Where is George?"

"By now, l...long...gone."  Morgana said triumphantly.  "He dressed in Fred's clothes and escaped when you left us alone.  Surely he's made it back to the house by now."

Quick shook with anger.

"H...he...he'll be back for us!"  Morgana declared.  "He will.  My nephew and Robert--they'll come for us.  In just a few m...minutes."

"Maybe so."  Quick sighed.  "But, they'll never find you."  He grabbed Morgana by the arm.  "Not in one piece."


Did you miss Chapters 1-100 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 102.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 101

Chapter 101:

Passage 


The long passage between the Duke’s chambers and those of Dr. Halifax echoed with every breath which Gerard took. He tried to be as quiet as possible. After all, after he’d left Dr. Halifax’s rooms, he knew he was meant to go straight to the small, but cozy spot which he shared with Charles. Still, Gerard lingered in the corridor, attempting to look as unobtrusive as possible.

When Charles had exited the Duke’s chamber, after assisting His Grace undress and prepare for sleep, Gerard had ducked around the corner so as not to be spotted by his friend. Charles wouldn’t have minded if he’d seen Gerard in the hallway. He’d have known why Gerard was waiting, but, nevertheless, Gerard didn’t wish to give Charles anything else about which he could tease him. Though their early relationship had been strained at best, since being employed together, Charles and Gerard had developed a fraternal camaraderie—one that, though close and loyal, was given to good-natured ribbing and jokes at one another’s expense.

To be sure, Gerard wouldn’t have cared so much that Charles had spotted him, but he felt a sense of honor to protect the reputation of the lady for whom he was waiting. Gamilla would already be a little shy about meeting Gerard in the hallway. However, if she knew that Charles was aware that she was enjoying a late-night, clandestine chat with Gerard, she would have been terribly embarrassed.

Gerard paced, glancing from time to time at the tall-case clock at the end of the passage. He knew that Dr. Halifax would soon be exiting his chamber and beginning the journey to the Duke’s room where, as everyone knew, but the doctor tried to hide, the doctor spent each night. Gerard didn’t wish to be caught by the doctor. Again, not because he thought that Dr. Halifax would mind his valet lurking in the passage to see Gamilla, but because he wanted to protect Gamilla’s reputation.

Gamilla would never agree to such a meeting. Her sense of honor was too great. However, Gerard concluded that if he “accidentally” happened upon the girl, she’d speak with him. That was all he wanted—just a chat. He’d not had a chance to speak more than a few pleasantries with the woman in two days. He missed her. It was bad enough that he was away from the familiar routine and comfortable surroundings of Belgrave Square (where, incidentally, he saw Gamilla as much as he liked), but to be cut-off from Gamilla’s sweet smile and light laughter was too much to stomach.

Since Charles had finished with the Duke and since he had finished with the doctor, Gerard knew that the two men would be settling-in for the night together within the coming moments. That was always Gamilla’s cue to exit the nursery. She would always say her good-nights to the baby and leave the room when she heard Dr. Halifax’s voice coming from the Duke’s bedchamber. And, so, Gerard continued to wait. What was, actually, only two or three minutes seemed like hours to the impatient young man.

Finally, he heard footsteps coming from the direction of the doctor's room. Gerard grinned and turned around, turning his attention to one of the long, tall chests which lined the walls of the passage. He pretended to be inspecting some of the silver objects which decorated its surface, acting as if he was deciding whether or not the already gleaming metal wanted polishing.

The footsteps seemed somehow odd to Gerard who listened intently. They weren’t the doctor’s usual determined treads. No, it wasn’t even just one set of steps. It was two—both of them light and agitated.

Gerard couldn’t help but look. He turned slowly to see who was approaching. His eyes widened as he saw who came around the corner.

“What are you doin’?” Gerard growled. “You don’t belong here.”

Curling his hand into a fist, Gerard stepped forward—ready to do what was needed.



Did you miss Chapters 1-100? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 102 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 101

Marjani put her hands on Iolanthe Evangeline’s shoulders. Iolanthe winced as Marjani touched her still-raw wound.


“Unhand me!” Iolanthe spat.

“You gotta get outta here.” Marjani said.

“Don’t you realize that you’re sending me out to my death?” Iolanthe hissed.

“Ain’t nothin’ but death in here for ya.” Marjani shook her head. “Now, listen to me, woman. I don’t care what happens to ya. This whole place is filled with the seeds of the Yellow Jack. I don’t care whether you let them seeds into your body to take root and make you suffer like my babies done suffer, or if them angry men out there shoot you full of holes. But, I ain’t gonna let you stay in here with my family and leave them open to the evil that surrounds ya!”

“You know that I could destroy you.” Iolanthe whispered.

“I’m not scared of you.” Marjani said. “I done looked death square in the eyes many a time. You ain’t got nothin’ on the power of the world that’s all ‘round us. You’re nothin’ to me, woman. You ain’t no force that I gotta concern myself with.”

Iolanthe grinned. “I see.”

“Why you smilin’ at me?” Marjani asked.

“I think you’re a fool, but I respect you for it.” Iolanthe winked. “I’ll leave you with your family.”

“Good.” Marjani said.

Iolanthe looked over her shoulder to the two poor souls that suffered on that cot.

“I hope they die.” Iolanthe smiled. “Soon. For their own sake.”

“Get out.” Marjani growled.

Iolanthe left the shack.

Marjani fell to her knees in front of the door and sobbed. “Ain’t we suffered enough, Holy Mother? Why you gotta send us test after test? I ain’t got no answers left. I’m doin’ all I can!”

Marjani rose and went to her chair behind which she had tucked away the gifts that Naasir had brought. She found the bag of gris-gris and squeezed it in her hands. “I do these things in your name,” She said aloud. “I do these things not to go against, you, Lady Mother, but to make your power greater! Don’t punish me now.”

Meanwhile, outside, Iolanthe Evangeline made her way to the rambling plantation house of Manuel Fontanals. She crept onto the front porch and gently rapped on the French windows which opened into the front parlor. She could see Mr. Fontanals sitting in front of the fire, smoking his pipe.

Mr. Fontanals heard the tapping and came to the window, opening it.

“I’ll be.” Mr. Fontanals smiled. “If it isn’t Miss Evangeline come to answer my Christmas prayers.”

“I’ll do more than that if you let me in.” Iolanthe cooed seductively.

Mr. Fontanals offered Iolanthe his hand.

“Come right in,” He smiled.

At that very moment, Adrienne assisted the servants in putting her drawing room back together.

“We’ll need a new rug.” Adrienne muttered nervously, rubbing her slipper across the burn marks.

“Easily gotten,” Robert said.

“I could send a letter to a wonderful rug-maker I know in London.” Julian suggested. “He could create something beautiful in any colors you’d like.”

“Thank you, Your Lordship.” Adrienne said blankly.

“By now, Adrienne,” Julian smiled, “You know you can call me ‘Julian.’”

“Yes, of course.” Adrienne shuffled about. She glanced around the room. “Some broken glass and china, but aside from the burnt rug, there’s no real damage.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Would that I could say the same about Cecil. Why doesn’t he come back?”

“He’s got the strongest men from the staff with him.” Robert said soothingly. “I’m sure he’s quite fine.”

“You Englishmen!” Adrienne grumbled. “Always so stoic!”

“We have to be,” Robert said.

“We’re not all so level-headed,” Julian smiled, lifting up his figure of Mr. Punch. “Some of us have rather unusual ways of coping.”

Adrienne chuckled despite herself. “True, Julian, but you’re exceptional.”

Julian blushed.

“I must go check on Fuller.” Adrienne said anxiously. “Excuse me.”

“Of course,” Robert stood as Adrienne skittered out of the room.

As Robert sat down, he glanced at Julian who seemed lost in thought.

“You’re not in pain, are you?” Robert asked.

“No, no.” Julian shook his head.

“He’s talking to you, isn’t he?” Robert smiled.

“Yes.” Julian nodded. “I suppose he always has. I’ve tried so hard to ignore him for all of these years. I figured I was simply mad—or perhaps everyone heard another voice in their head. I didn’t know. I should have listened to him. He’s got quite a lot to say.”

“Mr. Punch has been very good to you for many years.” Robert said softly. “He protects you.”

“I know.” Julian sighed. “I’ve not done a very good job of protecting him.”

“That’s why you have me.” Robert responded.

“Is it?” Julian squinted.

“In part. I must say, however, Mr. Punch does quite well on his own. He’s proven to be quite brave and sensible.”

“More so than I.” Julian answered quietly.

“Is that true?” Robert asked. “Aren’t you both parts of the same whole? The qualities that Mr. Punch displays are your own qualities, just interpreted in a different way. He exists because of you, he reacts from the drive within your own body. He was born in you, not the other way around.”

“I’d never thought of it that way.” Julian said thoughtfully. “He’s impatient. You should hear him chattering away in there…in here. It’s hard to describe.”

“He likes being out with people.” Robert said.

“Isn’t it strange?” Julian shrugged. “He likes it, and I don’t.” He looked up at Robert. “Please, don’t mistake me. I’m happy to be here with you. It’s just…”

“I understand.” Robert smiled.

Julian looked down and noticed his stickpin—the oak leaf with the glittering diamond. “I don’t recall…”

“That was my Christmas gift to you…” Robert said. “I’m sure Mr. Punch will tell you all about it.”

“Ah.” Julian drew in a deep breath. “Thank you.” His shoulders sagged. “Yet, I have nothing for you.”

“Mr. Punch gave me a lovely pen on behalf of both of you.” Robert grinned. “And, Julian, truthfully, the only gift I wanted this Christmas was for you to…” Robert stumbled over his words.

“Make an appearance?” Julian suggested.

“Yes.” Robert said.

The front door burst open and they heard Cecil shouting. “Go ’round back and guard the house.”

Cecil stomped into the front hall and cursed loudly.

Adrienne came running through the corridor.

“She got away, my angel. She got away.” Cecil moaned.

“I don’t care.” Adrienne said, throwing her arms around her husband. “I only care that you’re back!”

“Tomorrow morning,” Cecil said, after squeezing his wife. “We’re closing up the house.”

“We are?” Adrienne asked.

“Yes.” Cecil said firmly. “We’re going to New Orleans.”

“So soon?” Robert said. “You don’t need to be there until two days before the ball to set you the figures.”

“We’re going tomorrow! All of us.” Cecil said loudly. “Pack your things.”

“Where will we stay?” Adrienne asked.

“We’ll decide that when we arrive.” Cecil muttered.

“We can stay at Dr. Biamenti’s house on Royal.” Robert said. “I’ve got use of it all season. That’s where Julian and I stayed when we first arrived. Meridian, the housekeeper, will look after us.”

“Why must we go so soon?” Adrienne asked.

“Because I’m going to get that serpent—that ogress—in her own nest!” Cecil said firmly.

“Here!” Mr. Punch shouted.

Robert let his head sag, knowing his brief reunion with Julian was over, but somehow glad to hear Mr. Punch again, too.

“We’re goin’ to New Orleans! That’s the way to do it!” Mr. Punch whooped.



Did you miss Chapters 1-100? If so, you can read them here. You can also read a summary of the first one hundred chapters here.