A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 106

Chapter 106
Cup o' Tea



"I thought you might like some tea,"  Charlotte smiled as she came into the room where she had allowed Jackson and Ivy to hide Morgana.  She carried a plain-looking tray with a brown teapot and a shabby cup.

"I been thinkin'."  The woman went on.  "Well, I been listenin' to Mr. Jackson and Miss Blessum, and, seems to me maybe they've not been..."  She coughed.  "Well, I just gotta do what they say.  I gotta.  You understand?"

Looking away, Morgana nodded slightly that she did understand.

"But, that don't mean we gotta treat ya like...well, like some kind o' beast.  See...I had a brother once.  He were born with a clubfoot and a hunch.  Now, I know he didn't do nothin' to deserve that, and I figure you didn't neither.  I feel...well, I just think you oughta have some tea."

She sighed, looking at Morgana.  "You ain't gonna have such an easy time drinkin' it.  Are ya?  Not with your han...your...not tied up like you are."

Morgana stared back at the woman.

"I can hold the cup up to your lips so you can take a sip."  Charlotte volunteered.

Morgana shook her head weakly.

"Maybe later, then."  Charlotte nodded.  "Listen, while Miss Blessum and Mr. Jackson are havin' their vittles, why don't ya try to relax?  You ain't gonna have long by yourself."  

Morgana inhaled.

"You don't gotta be afraid o' me."  Charlotte smiled again.  "I know I talk a hard streak, and maybe I seemed like I was heartless when ya come in.  But, I gotta do that.  See...I gotta."

"What did they make ya drink?"  The woman continued.  "I dunno.  I feel a trifle peculiar about all this.  Mr. Jackson said they gave ya somethin' so you couldn't talk.  Is that right?"

"I...I..."  Morgana rasped, her throat still raw from the cruel elixir which Ivy had forced upon her.

"No, no.  Don't strain yourself."  Charlotte shook her head.  "Don't seem very..."  She paused. "Well, it ain't my place to say nothin', but, it don't seem right what's happenin' here.  I've gotta do what they tell me.  A woman in my position, well, she don't got much choice.  I gotta follow their rules or else it could be the end o' me.  Quite a lot of the farm wives on the estate would like to see me not only gone, but strung up.  Only thing keepin' me here since the duchess died is that Hargrave, Causer, Quick and Jackson let me stay.  Oh, it ain't just me I'm worried 'bout.  I got my girls to think of.  It ain't easy.  Is it?  No."

Charlotte leaned forward.

"Don't think I don't understand,"  She went on.  "I do.  I know what it's like.  I had some men what treated me terrible.  Done awful things, they did.  Thought I'd never get 'way from 'em."

Morgana let her head droop forward.

"Oh, dear.  You're gonna have to take somethin' to keep up your strength."  Charlotte studied the ropes which bound Morgana's pincers.  "Can you hold things?  Ya know...in them?"

Nodding slightly, Morgana groaned.

Charlotte glanced at the door.  

"If I...if I loosen them a bit,"  Charlotte suggested, pointing to Morgana's pound wrists,  "maybe you'll have some tea."

Looking up hopefully, Morgana nodded.

"You ain't gonna do nothin'.  Right?  We're friends.  I just wanna help ya."  Charlotte smiled.  "Well, then."  She reached forward and started to loosen the ropes.  "Just for a minute, then.  Just for a cup o' tea."



Did you miss Chapters 1-105 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 107.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 106

Chapter 106: 

A Wee Chip 


“Gamilla,” Mr. Punch knelt down next to Gamilla and took her hand in his. “Are you sure it were Gerry what gave ya the whiskey?”

Gamilla’s eyes filled with tears and she looked downward.

“Honey,” Gerard started, “I wouldn’t do that to ya. You know it?”

Gamilla moaned softly.

“Let’s get her back to her room.” Robert said softly.

Robert helped Mr. Punch to his feet just as Mrs. North entered the vestibule. Punch quickly fixed his face into an appropriately ducal expression.

“Your Grace,” Mrs. North smiled. “I jus’ wanted ya to know that your Mr. Speaight has sent Charles to look after young master Colin ‘til the wee African girl is able to do her duties. Poor thin’.”

“Thank you, Mrs. North.” Robert said. “We’re just about to…”

“Ach!” Mrs. North interrupted. “There’s me beaker.” She pointed to the earthenware vessel which had been placed on the narrow table between the wine cellars and silver vaults.

“Your beaker, Mrs. North?” Mr. Punch smiled.

“Aye,” Mrs. North replied. “Me favorite. A gift from the staff to me on the occasion of her Majesty’s Silver Jubilee last year. How touched I was and all. Use it each night, aye. I’d left it by me spot at the table last night and wondered where it went to.”

“This is your beaker?” Robert squinted.

“Sure, it is.” Mrs. North nodded. “I must confess, Doctor, the cold gets in me ol’ bones after all these years in this place. I take a wee draught of whiskey each night to warm me so that I might sleep. Don’t you worry none, Your Grace,” she turned to the Duke. “I buy me own. I don’t take it from the cellars.”

“I’m not concerned.” Mr. Punch grinned broadly. He was so pleased, in fact, that it was difficult not to whoop in his usually Punchinello way, and he had to bite his lip to keep an appropriately aristocratic air about himself in front of Mrs. North. “You may have as much of my whiskey as you like, Mrs. North.”

“Ach,” Mrs. North frowned, looking at Gamilla. “Is that what’s happened? Has the wee African girl gotten into me whiskey? Aye…I did no’ think of it. Your Mr. Gurney has a beaker a might like this, if not the same. Don’t ya, Gerard?”

“I do.” Gerard nodded.

“Gamilla,” Mrs. North continued. She looked down at the girl. “Did you drink from the beaker, thinkin’ it was your Gerard’s?”

Gamilla wiped her eyes. “Yes.”

“I had seen ya lookin’ for ‘im. Had a bit of a row, did ya?” Mrs. North winked. “Poor girl looked distraught. When she did no’ find the lad, I reckon she sipped from his beaker, thinkin’ o’ bein’ close to ‘im.”

Gamilla nodded.

“You’re sure this is your beaker, Mrs. North?” Robert asked

“Sure as I’m awake, Doctor.” Mrs. North nodded. “Got a wee chip in the handle.”

Punch walked over and studied the mug. “It does.”

“I’ll take that, if you will, Your Grace.” Mrs. North smiled. Mr. Punch handed her the mug. “Gerard’s beaker is in his kit where he always keeps it. If ya don’t believe me, I’ll have the man get his kit to show ya.”

“We believe you, Mrs. North.” Robert shook his head.

“So, this was all an accident.” Mr. Punch smiled, speaking in Julian’s voice.

“Yes.” Mrs. North nodded firmly. “Aye, but we know the girl would no’ take a drink, and, we know that your Mr. Gurney is a fine and sober hard worker.”

“Yes, we do.” Robert smiled.

“Thank you, Mrs. North.” Gerard whispered.

“Nothin’ to thank me for, laddie. Jus’ wanted me beaker and to make sure that the wee African girl wasn’t too sick. But, she ain’t sick at all, is she? Nah. Jus’ needs to sleep it off. Not used to spirits.”

“I think we should take Gamilla to her room now.” Robert said.

“Aye, you do that, Doctor. And, Gamilla, I’ll come and sit with ya for awhile if you’d like. When I was your age, I had too much whiskey once. I was a maid jus’ like you and I remember the housekeeper came and sat with me and rubbed me head and stroked me hair. She was a fine lady and I’m grateful for it to this day.”

“Thank you.” Gamilla whispered.

“You jus’ know, Gamilla,” Mrs. North said. “While you’re here at the Grange, I’m gonna see that no harm comes to ya. Not only are ya a favorite of the masters, you’re a favorite of mine for how loyal you are to ‘em.”

For the first time that morning, Gamilla smiled.

“See, girl.” Mrs. North continued, as Robert and Gerard helped Gamilla to her feet. “All will be well. Ya ain’t got a thin’ to worry ‘bout. Now, you just rest and feel better for ya got to be beautiful for the ball tonight. You’ll dance, you will. You’ll dance with your Gerard and be very happy.”

Gamilla nodded.

“Sure, we’ll dance Gamilla.” Gerard said softly. “Listen, love, I’m sorry for…”

Gamilla shook her head. “No. Ain’t no reason for to tell me that. We ain’t got nothin’ for to be sorry ‘bout.”

Gerard smiled.

“If you two have Gamilla,” Mr. Punch said, “I’m going to go to the nursery to relieve Charles. He’s got more to do than watch Colin, and, I’d like to stay with my boy anyway. Dr. Halifax, will you join me after you’ve dressed?”

“Of course,” Robert nodded.

“Mrs. North,” Punch smiled. “Dr. Halifax and I will take breakfast on trays in my room. Will you, please, tell Mrs. Pepper?”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Mrs. North nodded. “Aye, girl,” she looked at Gamilla. “Let the doctor and your Gerard settle ya in. I’ll be up for ya shortly and we’ll get ya feelin’ better so you can be the belle of the ball.”

Gamilla nodded. “Mrs. North…”

“I know all ‘bout it, girl.” Mrs. North winked. “Ain’t no reason to worry.”

As Robert and Gerard helped Gamilla out of the vestibule, Mr. Punch looked quizzically at Mrs. North. In his most aristocratic voice, he asked. “About what would she be worried, Mrs. North?”

“Ah, you know how lasses are, Your Grace.”

“Not really.”

“Well, Sir, they’re always worried before a ball, ‘bout bein’ pretty and light. Poor girl didn’t expect this, but she’ll be the prettiest creature there.”

Mr. Punch nodded. “Good morning, Mrs. North.”

“Your Grace,” She smiled.

Mrs. North waited a few moments for the Duke to make his way from the Servants’ Hall and then, she charged up the short flight of stairs form the cellars in search of Finlay whom she found in the pantry.

“Finlay Donnan,” Mrs. North scowled.

“Yes, Mrs. North.” Finlay smiled.

“Do you remember when you was a lad and your da’ would bloody ya with his belt?”

Finlay squinted. “Yes.”

“Always tried to get ‘im to stop.” Mrs. North barked. “Now, I wish that Johnny Donnan would come up here and take his belt to ya ‘gain.”

Finlay smiled. “Why is this?”

“I don’t know what you’re ‘bout, Finlay.” Mrs. North said angrily. “But, I saw ya last night. I saw ya threaten that poor girl. And, I heard ya! Tellin’ her ya’d hurt her beau or worse if she didn’t do what ya said. I heard what ya said ‘bout the master’s baby, too.”

Finlay narrowed his eyes. “I think you’re mistaken, Mrs. North.”

“Nah.” Mrs. North shook her head. “I ain’t gonna let ya get away with it. Forcin’ that poor girl to drink them spirits…”

“Oh.” Finlay cocked his head to one side.

“After the ball, I’m goin’ to the masters to tell ‘em all I saw.”

“Why not right now?” Finlay laughed. “Since you’re so convinced of my sins.”

“The masters are not gonna have this ball ruined for ‘em—‘specially not the Duke who’s been lookin’ forward to this for days. But, the minute it’s over…mark my words.” She took Finlay’s arm in her hand. “You’re gonna stay ‘way from the African girl and Gerard. You’ll do what’s expected of ya tonight, and, then, you’ll meet me in the kitchens so I can call for the masters.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“I know ya will, Finlay. Where would ya go otherwise? No other household in Scotland would have ya? Your only chance not to starve is to cooperate with me. If I see ya cooperate today, maybe I’ll think ‘bout pleadin’ with the masters not to sack ya. It all depends on you.”

“How kind.” Finlay smirked.

“Look, lad.” Mrs. North said softly. “I known ya since ya was a wee babe. I saw ya grow into the man ya are today, and when your ma was gone, I felt like maybe you were me own boy. It broke my heart to think you’d be so rough with a young lady. What I saw last night—it broke me heart. But, Finlay, I do love ya like you were me own. Jus’ be a good lad tonight, please. If ya are, I’ll see that the masters is good to ya.”

“Why tell them at all?”

“I gotta.” Mrs. North shook her head. “It’s me duty. You understand, Finlay. It’s honor.”

“I know all about honor, Mrs. North.” Finlay smiled. “I assure you. I will be a very, very good lad tonight.”

“I knew you would.” Mrs. North patted Finlay’s arm. “Now, look smart. We’ve much to do.”

“Much, Mrs. North. Much.” Finlay grinned.



Did you miss Chapters 1-105 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 107.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 106

The Duchess of Fallbridge raised her well-trimmed eyebrows and arched her back. “How dare you ask me such a question, Miss Magdalena? If that is your name.”


Iolanthe Evangeline grinned. “Is it not true that you were responsible for the murder of your husband, Sir Colin Molliner?”

“Of course it’s not true!” The Duchess growled. “How could you ask me such a thing?”

“I know people.” Iolanthe smirked. “I know many people. I receive a good deal of correspondence from Paris. You were clever, Your Grace, but not nearly as clever as you think. People’s loyalties change quickly—especially the kind of people who you employed to kill your husband. I don’t want you thinking that those very same people aren’t known to me and that they aren’t quite willing to share their knowledge for a price.”

“Who are you really?” The Duchess asked, her cheeks turning bright red.

“I call myself Iolanthe Evangeline though others have different names for me.”

“Why have you brought me here? Why did you summon me from across the ocean? You say you know the whereabouts of my son and daughter. But, that’s not the reason, is it?” Her Grace asked.

“Not entirely.” Iolanthe laughed. “I think we could be very helpful to one another.”

“In what way?”

“You could help me in my business, and I in yours.”

“What is your business?”

“I have many an enterprise.” Iolanthe winked. “Let’s say that I am in the business of making fantasy a reality. For a fee, I can make anything happen. For the right fee, I can perform miracles.”

“You seem to think very highly of yourself,” The Duchess hissed. “You seem to think you’re triumphant. No one triumphs over me! No one controls me. I am Pauline, Duchess of Fallbridge. Don’t forget that!”

“To me, you’re just the same as I am. You’re a strong woman who will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Even murder.”

“I did not murder my husband.”

“Not with your own pearl-white, delicate hands. No.”

“Not with anyone’s hands. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course not.” Iolanthe smiled. “Nor have I had any hand in the death of many a man. However, there are documents stating the contrary—about both of us.”

“Show me.” The Duchess said softly.

“In time, perhaps.” Iolanthe chuckled. “But, not until you give me what I want.”

“Which is?” Her Grace asked.

“Your loyalty.” Iolanthe narrowed her eyes. “No matter how fleeting.”

Meanwhile on Royal Street, Mr. Punch sat by the fire in Julian’s dressing gown. His wet hair felt cold against his warm forehead, and his cheeks were flushed from the hot bath he had just taken.

Robert knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a response. “Do you feel better?”

“Not ‘specially.” Mr. Punch sighed. “Me heart feels like it’s gonna pound right out of me chest.”

“Let me see your hands,” Robert said, standing in front of Mr. Punch.

Punch offered Julian’s hands to Robert who inspected them.

“Healing nicely.” Robert said. “I don’t think you’ll need the bandages anymore. However, you’ll still need to be careful with them.”

Mr. Punch nodded.

Robert knelt down and looked at Julian’s legs. “The burns here are also healing. Do they hurt?”

“No, but they itch.”

“That’s a good sign.” Robert grinned. He rose from his knees and settled into the chair across from Mr. Punch. “So, tell me. Why do you think Julian’s mother is close at hand?”

“Just a feelin’.” Mr. Punch shrugged.

Toby trotted over and jumped onto the chair, making himself comfortable on Julian’s lap.

“I think Toby senses something, too.” Robert smiled. “He’s protecting you. Just as I am.”

“Ain’t no way to protect us from Pauline.” Mr. Punch grunted.

“She’s just a human woman.” Robert said. “She can do us no harm.”

“You’ve never met the Duchess.” Mr. Punch shivered, patting the dog. “She’s terrible bad.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I’ve met her many a time though me master don’t remember it. All them times when she’s been ‘specially rotten to him, I came out to take her abuse, I did.”

“Did she ever strike you?” Robert asked. “Or Julian?”

“Hittin’ ain’t the worst o’ what she done.” Mr. Punch sighed. “Sometimes other things hurt worse than hands. Everyone’s afraid of her. She’s got a way ‘bout her what’s just pure wickedness. Even that awful nanny is scared of her. ‘The Duchess must never know.’” He muttered.

“Perhaps if you were to talk about it…” Robert said. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know.” Mr. Punch said. “But, sayin’ it only makes it real.”

“It was real.” Robert said softly.

“But, it don’t have to stay that way.” Mr. Punch grunted.

Someone knocked softly on the door.

“Who is it?” Robert asked.

“It is I,” Adrienne said. “May I come in?”

“Bien sur.” Robert replied.

As Adrienne entered, Robert remembered that Mr. Punch wasn’t fully dressed.

“Oh, pardon me,” Adrienne said. In her hands she carried a suit of clothes.

“Just had a bath, I did.” Mr. Punch smiled. “Don’t worry, I got this thing on. Can’t see nothin’.”

Adrienne chuckled. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t…” She paused. “Well, I’ve come up here to tell you that I’ve finished this.”

“What is it?” Mr. Punch asked eagerly.

“It’s your costume for the Fancy Dress ball, Mr. Punch.” Adrienne held the suit up for him to see. It was an exact replica of the fine little clothes she’d made for the puppet.

“Coo!” Mr. Punch whooped.

“You approve, then?” Adrienne smiled.

“I should say!” Mr. Punch cooed.

“I’m so pleased.” Adrienne smiled, laying the costume on the bed. “You can try it on later and if there are any alterations needed, I will make them before the ball.” She looked at Robert. “I’ve almost finished yours. I’d hoped to be done with this before we came to New Orleans, but when Cecil insisted we leave early, I had Gamilla pack all of it up so I could complete them here. She’s been helping me. She’s a much better seamstress than she gives herself credit for. The fabric all came from Marjani. She dyed it herself. She’s quite good. Perhaps one day if she’s ever a free woman, she can make a fine living at it.”

“I hope she has a chance to do so.” Robert said seriously.

“Robert, I am only missing one piece from my costume.” Adrienne said.

“Anything I can help with?” Robert asked.

“Not unless you know a good wigmaker.” Adrienne laughed. “I’ll find one in the city. I’m sure Meridian must know someone.”

“What’s your costume gonna be?” Mr. Punch asked. “Are you gonna be ‘Judy’?”

“No.” Adrienne giggled. “That would mean that Cecil would have to be Mr. Punch and, happily, that part is already taken.”

“So, what’re gonna be then?”

Robert shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“Shall I tell him?” Adrienne asked Robert.

“You might as well.” Robert nodded. “He’ll find out eventually.”

“I’m going as Iolanthe Evangeline.” Adrienne responded.

“What?” Mr. Punch’s eyes widened. “Whatever for?”

“It seems my husband and his wise brother have something of a scheme planned.” Adrienne smiled weakly.

“No.” Mr. Punch shook Julian’s head. “I won’t let you do it.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-105? If so, you can read them here.