A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 109

Chapter 109
Ensnared


After calling for Violet, Robert returned to the bed where Gamilla and Lennie, side-by-side, returned to the living.

Gerard, who refused to release Gamilla's hand, wept happily as he made soothing noises at his wife.

"Gerry,"  Gamilla rasped, "you don't understand.  You gotta get me up, honey."

"Not yet,"  Gerard shook his head at his wife.  

"She speaks the truth,"  Lennie coughed.

"Lennie, dear," Robert answered gently, "you've been through a terrible ordeal.  Please save your strength.  Inhale.  Fill your lungs with air."

Lennie tried to sit up.  "Robert, you're..."  She fell back onto her pillow.  "You must listen."

"Please,"  Robert pleaded.  "Dear Lennie, you are as much my sister as you are Punch's, and I must insist that you..."

"She's here, Robert."  Lennie sputtered.

"Stronger than ever before, Your Lordship."  Gamilla nodded weakly.  She pulled on Gerard's hand and tried to right herself.  "We done got free, but, at a price."

Robert and Gerard exchanged glances.  

"Love,"  Gerard began.  "I don't understand.  Let's just rejoice that you and Miss Lennie are well and..."

"None of us are well!"  Gamilla answered, gaining strength.  "None of us are safe until we rid this house of her."

Robert looked to Lennie.  "Your mother?"

"Yes."  Lennie answered.

Before Lennie could say more, Violet came into the room.  Her eyes flashed with joy when she saw the two women.

"Glory be!"  Violet exchanged.  "I can't believe it."

"Violet, will you bring that pitcher to me?"  Robert pointed.

"Of course, Your Lordship."  Violet nodded.

"Robert, please..."  Lennie began again.  "Where is my brother?"

"He will return soon."  Robert responded vaguely, not wishing to further upset the two women.

"Certainly he will,"  Violet nodded, bringing the pitcher to Robert.  "You'll see, Miss.  His Grace will be back before you know it.  And, overjoyed he'll be, too."

"Where is the duke?"  Gamilla asked.  "He's in danger."

Gerard bit his lip and forced a slight smile.  "Love, His Grace is quite safe.  He's with Charles and Lord Cleaversworth."

"Punch is in horrible danger!"  Lennie reached out for Robert.  "For the love of..."  She coughed again.  "Please, Robert, tell me where he is."

"He's gone in search of Aunt Morgana."  Robert answered finally.  "There's been trouble, as you remember.  You and Violet and the girls went to the..."

"The crypt, yes!"  Lennie managed to sit up.  "William is dead."

Robert gasped.  "However could you know that?"

"I saw him. He appeared to us."  Lennie replied.

"Guided by who we done thought was Naasir."  Gamilla began.

"Naasir?"  Violet whispered to Gerard.

"We've spoken of him.  He was the duke's valet before Charles, and African gentleman."  Gerard replied.  "He was killed in New Orleans."

"Oh, yes.  His Grace speaks of him from time to time."  Violet nodded.  "His death was a terrible sadness for the poor duke."

"I thought Naasir done come to help us!"  Gamilla moaned.  "I thought my callin' to him brought him to us.  I begged for him to come so he might guide us back to you when I done got stuck.  He came all right, came with William.  I thought he done come to take William away, to peace.  Only..."

"It wasn't Naasir."  Lennie continued for Gamilla.  "It was some other thing, some demon who done took his form.  Wasn't takin' William away.  William was tryin' to fight it so we might come back."

"You're both becoming overwrought."  Robert shook his head.  

"Punch is walking into a trap!"  Lennie said.  "My mother's spirit has fed, Robert.  She's grown stronger.  She's taken in William, and..."

"And?"  Robert leaned in.

"A woman...I don't know who she was."  Lennie coughed.

"A woman with brown curls.  Charlotte was her name."  Gamilla explained.  "She tried for the help Miss Morgana, but, Mr. Jackson cut her life short."

"I don't know...we...there's no one called Charlotte here."  Robert answered.

"Gregory knows...get Gregory."  Gamilla begged.  

"Robert, my brother is about to be snared in a horrible trap."  Lennie said, her voice quavering.  "You must find him before he goes into the castle...the little castle.  Quick, the parson, is causing all of this.  They're guiding him to the little castle."

"What little castle?"  Robert asked cautiously.

"It was where His Grace first knew about Lady Barbara goin' to New Orleans."  Gamilla answered, her head listing to one side.

"Could you mean the folly?"  Robert asked.

"Yes."  Lennie gasped.

"Dear Lennie, Punch has gone to the parsonage.  He's nowhere near the folly.  He's on the other side of the estate."

Suddenly, Lennie began to shake.

"Violet, help me, please."  Robert rose.  "Help me put more cushions behind her head so she won't injure herself."

Gamilla cried out.  "Oh, it's too late."

"What is it, 'Milla?"  Gerard asked.

"It's done."  Gamilla muttered.  "The duchess done got her way."



Did you miss Chapters 1-108 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 110.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 109

Chapter 109:

Fancy Dress 


“Well?” Ethel giggled as she turned around. “How do I look?”

“Cor!” Jenny gasped. “Don’t you look that beautiful?”

“Do I?” Ethel asked. “Here, hold up the glass for me.”

Jenny held up the small looking glass as Ethel went to the farthest end of their small, shared room. She studied her reflection. “I think I may cry,” Ethel sniffed.

“I might, too.” Jenny nodded. “You look like a right and proper princess, you do. Just like out of a fairy tale.”

Ethel twirled so that her gown of shining coral silk flared out around her legs.

“And look a’ them jewels! They’re that elegant.” Jenny said happily.

“Weren’t it kind for His Grace to lend ‘em to me?”

“And to Mrs. Pepper, too.”

“Have you seen her yet?” Ethel asked.

“No.” Jenny shook her head. “Only saw her costume hangin’ up in her room. It’s a proper queen’s gown, that one. She’s gonna look just like Her Majesty Queen Charlotte.”

“You ain’t never seen Queen Charlotte.”

“Well, no, ‘course I didn’t. I’m nigh on sixteen!” Jenny clucked her tongue. “Only I weren’t born ‘til Victoria were Queen. But, I seen paintin’s o’ Queen Charlotte and George III.”

Ethel nodded. “Come on, then. Let’s get you in yours.”

“Glad that His Grace suggested I be Joan of Arc.” Jenny squealed.

“You should be gladder still that the sketch His Grace sent to the tailor wasn’t all armor, but rather St. Joan in her plain gown. You’d tip over with all that armor on, you would.”

“You know I would.” Jenny tittered excitedly. “And, did ya see the wig that they sent?”

Jenny opened a tall box and removed a short, sandy wig on a stand. “I’ll look like me brother with it on!”

“You’re gonna be very smart, Jen.” Ethel smiled. “You’ll look jus’ like the saint herself.”

“Look!” Jenny spun around. “There’s a sword and all.”

A knock on the door interrupted their girlish chatter.

“How is it, then?” Ethel asked.

“It’s Gamilla and Vi.” Violet answered.

“Oh!” Jenny scrambled for the door and opened it. “Hurry and come in before the boys see us.”

“How ya feelin’ Gamilla?” Ethel asked with sincere concern.

“Much better.” Gamilla answered—embarassed.

“We was all worried.” Jenny nodded.

“Was you really drunk?” Ethel giggled.

“Come on, then, let her be.” Violet scolded the girls.

“But, Gamilla,” Jenny said quickly. “What happened? Did Gerry get ya drunk?”

“It happened just as Mrs. North said,” Violet interrupted. “Gamilla accidentally drank out of the beaker, thinkin’ it was Gerard’s. She didn’t know it was filled with whiskey. It was an accident, and we don’t need to talk no more ‘bout it.”

“Sure, she gets one kiss from Mr. Hutchinson before we leave for Scotland and she thinks she’s the mistress of the ‘ouse.” Ethel teased.

“We just wanted to see your fancy dresses.” Gamilla smiled, hoping to change the subject. “Ethel, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Gamilla.” Ethel grinned.

“And, is this your sword?” Gamilla asked Jenny.

“I’m gonna be Joan of Arc.” Jenny chirped.

“I’m gonna be Marie Antoinette.” Violet boasted.

“Are ya?” Ethel’s eyes widened. “Cor! I’ll bet yours is beautiful!”

“It is,” Violet finally smiled. “But, not as pretty as yours.”

“I doubt that.” Ethel laughed. “Let’s help Jenny get dressed and, then, we’ll come and help you.”

“We only got a couple hours before the ball.” Jenny said. “We gotta hurry.”

“We got time.” Ethel chuckled.

“What ‘bout you, Gamilla?” Jenny asked. “Who are you gonna be?”

“Cleopatra.” Gamilla said softly.

“Oh!’ All three girls said in unison. “Ain’t Gerard gonna be charmed?”

Gamilla looked at the ground.

“Let’s hurry, then!” Jenny said.

“Listen, girls,” Gamilla looked up. “I wanna help ya, but I’m just gonna go make sure Mrs. North is up from her nap. She was so kind to stay with me off and on today. Poor dear tired herself out doin’ everythin’ she did. She told me she was gonna take a nap and asked if I’d wake her in time to get ready for the ball.”

“Hurry back, Gamilla!” Ethel said. “We need ya! Besides, I wanna see your Cleopatra!”

“I’ll be right back.” Gamilla nodded, hurrying from the room. As she approached Mrs. North’s door, she saw it open and watched as Mrs. North hurried from the room.

“Mrs. North!” Gamilla called after the woman. But, she didn’t turn around.

Gamilla chuckled. “Poor thing can’t hear a sound.”

With that, she shrugged and walked back to join the other girls. Though her head still pounded slightly, it was nearly as strong a beat as that of her heart. Despite the trouble which lurked around her, she had decided that she was going to enjoy the ball—if only just because it was a special gift from the Duke and the Doctor. She was going to dance and talk with Gerard and eat and be a lady for one night. Little did she know, but her life would be forever changed in just a few hours.



Did you miss Chapters 1-108 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 110.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 109

“You most certainly will not.” Robert said firmly to Mr. Punch who frowned.


“If Cecil gets to go, I don’t see why I can’t.” Mr. Punch answered. “Chum, I can keep him from…”

“Cecil isn’t going anywhere either.” Robert said, interrupting Mr. Punch.

“Now, listen, little brother,” Cecil began.

“No.” Robert answered sternly. “Cecil, I understand your frustration, but I can’t allow you to let that color your judgment. You need to keep your wits about you. We have a plan. It’s a good one, I might add. So, there’s no reason to act rashly and diverge from what we’ve already decided.”

“Well, then.” Cecil sputtered. “I don’t suppose you’re going to stop me.”

Robert grabbed Cecil by the arm. “Is that a wager you’d really care to make.”

Mr. Punch whooped. “People! You’re a strange lot, you are. Always findin’ things what you wanna fight ‘bout. Here, I’m gonna say somethin’. Maybe you got no faith in what a puppet man’s gotta say, but I’m gonna say it anyway.”

Robert released Cecil’s arm. “Go on, dear Punch. We put a great deal of faith in your opinion.”

“I was gonna go with Cecil, I was. But, see, that was me thinkin’ with me heart. I learned somethin’. Can’t just go hittin’ things with sticks and firin’ pistols at ‘em. Look what we got with Arthur, what. Didn’t work out so well, now did it? I gotta say, me chum is right in what he says. If the two of you got a plan, then you’d best stick with it. See, that’s somethin’ you thought out already, it is. That’s gotta be better than goin’ off with rage in your heart. Nothin’ good’ll come o’ that, it won’t. Here, I understand what you’re thinkin’, Cecil, me chum. I do. But, you gotta think before you do somethin’. This ain’t no pantomime. What happens here is real and it’s permanent, it is. Ain’t no comin’ back from it. Ain’t no other Cecil waitin’ in a trunk, ready to come out if the first Cecil gets hurt. There’s only one of ya. And, you got a family to think of. Goin’ out with a pistol is only gonna get you hurt. What’re the rest of us gonna do if that happens?”

“I say,” Cecil grunted. “For a ‘puppet man,’ you’re awfully wise.”

“I learned a lot, I did.” Mr. Punch grinned. “Here, look at Toby. All curled up with me wooden chum, just sleepin’. Shouldn’t we be doin’ that? Now, Toby knows that when he wakes up there’s gonna be all sorts of challenges he’ll have. Don’t know what kind. Dog challenges, I ‘spose—like whether he should dig a hole in the dirt or whatever it is dogs think ‘bout. But, you don’t see him stalkin’ ‘round at night. No. He knows he’s got to be a good dog and take care o’ himself so that he can be with me and Robert and the whole bunch o’ us.”

Cecil looked confused. “Yes, of course, Mr. Punch. But, we’re not dogs. We’re people. Our challenges are far greater than where to bury our bones.”

“It’ll be your bones we’re buryin’ if you go out like you’re thinkin’.” Mr. Punch said plainly.

“Very well.” Cecil answered flatly.

“Adhere to our scheme, Cecil.” Robert said gently. “We’re going to be triumphant. We just need to be smart about it.”

“Here.” Cecil handed his pistol to Robert. “Take this. I’ll have no more lectures tonight.”

“Cecil…” Robert began.

“Don’t say another word.” Cecil grumbled.

With that, he went back to his room.

“I do understand.” Mr. Punch said to Robert once he was alone. “I found meself caught up in the spirit o’ what he was thinkin’, I did. It’s easy to run out and fight without thinkin’. But, it takes a brave man to be wise ‘bout how he protects his family.”

Robert smiled. “Well put, dear Punch.”

“Here, now, all this talk ‘bout plans and schemes. But, nobody’s seen fit to tell ol’ Mr. Punch just what they are.”

“We didn’t want to worry you.” Robert said.

“I’m worried anyway. Maybe knowin’ will help me not to worry. Remember, I got double the worry, I do. I got me own and I got Julian’s to trouble me. Might help me to know what’s goin’ on.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Robert sighed. “I’ll explain it all in the morning.”

“Not in the mornin’.” Mr. Punch shook Julian’s head. “Now.”

Meanwhile, at Miss Iolanthe’s Bawdy House, the Duchess of Fallbridge shrieked wildly.

“You’re married?” She screamed. “To whom have you been married.”

“To the father of my child.” Barbara answered vacantly.

“Which is?” The Duchess demanded.

“Arthur.”

“The footman?” The Duchess shouted. “Arthur? My Arthur?”

“What do you mean, ‘your Arthur’?” Barbara stuttered.

“Nothing.” The Duchess grunted. “How could you do this to me? How could you disgrace the family?”

“Why do you think I’m here, Mother?” Barbara said, he speech still slurred. “Why do you think I traveled across the sea to get away from you? Isn’t it better to think I’m dead than to think I’ve disgraced the family name? Go home, Mother. Go back to Fallbridge Hall and tell everyone that Lady Barbara is dead.”

“You’ve ruined us.” Pauline hissed.

“I’ve ruined…” Barbara growled. “What of Julian? Perhaps you should concern yourself with your son! He’s gone completely mad! He thinks he’s someone else.”

“It’s really quite charming,” Iolanthe smiled. “He is utterly insane.”

“You, hold your tongue.” The Duchess spat at Iolanthe.

“Temper, Your Grace.” Iolanthe winked. “That’s no way to speak to your hostess.”

The Duchess walked slowly to a chair and flung herself in it dramatically. “Everything is crumbling. This is not what I wanted at all.”

“Sometimes you just don’t get what ya want.” Iolanthe chuckled. “Sometimes, you can make it happen anyway.”

“I told you to hold your tongue.” The Duchess answered sharply.

“I’ll hold my tongue.” Iolanthe smiled. “After I tell your daughter who it was that murdered her father.”

“Keep quiet!” The Duchess growled.

“What is she talking about, Mother?” Barbara asked.

“Don’t call me ‘mother.’ I’m not your mother. I don’t know who or what you are.”

“Go to your room, Miss Allen.” Iolanthe said. “Assuming you’ve come to stay.”

“I have.” Barbara nodded.

“Get some sleep, then. Tomorrow’s gonna be right busy for ya.” Iolanthe winked.

Barbara stood awkwardly in the center of the room and stared at the Duchess.

“Go.” Iolanthe said firmly.

Barbara did as instructed.

“Now, now,” Iolanthe smiled at Pauline. “Looks like you got nothin’. Daughter’s a whore. Son’s a lunatic. Husband’s dead. Just you left—you and all that wealth. Maybe now, you’ll realize that I’m all you’ve got. Maybe now you’ll know that we have to help each other.”

“My daughter is dead.” The Duchess moaned. “Dead…”

At that very moment, back in Marionneaux, Marjani staggered out of the shack and fell to her knees in the cold, damp earth. She wailed horribly and beat her breast with her fists.

Several of the field workers rushed toward her, but stopped a few feet away—fearful of the Fever seeds.

“My baby is dead!” Marjani screamed. “My little girl is gone!”

“She’s gone to Heaven, honey.” One of the workers said. “She’s gone for to be with the Holy Mother.”

“How am I gonna tell that little girl that both her mama and her daddy are gone?” Marjani fell to the ground and clawed at it with her hands. “How am I gonna do it?”



Did you miss Chapters 1-108? If so, you can read them here.