A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 113

Chapter 113
Diseased Blood



"Miss Lennie?"  Gamilla leaned over.  "How are ya feelin'?"

"You shouldn't  be looking after me, Gamilla.  You should be resting.  You've been through the same ordeal that I have."

"Not quite,"  Gamilla smiled.  "Don't forget, you done been cut and given some kind o' poison.  It's likely still in your body, Miss."

"That's not the only poison which flows through my body."  Lennie muttered.

"What's that, Your Ladyship?"  Gamilla asked.

"Oh...nothing."  Lennie shook her head, sinking deeper into her pillow.  "Gamilla, do sit.  Gerard will be furious if he sees you up and about."

"Well, I did promise him I'd stay in my place."  Gamilla answered.  "If you don't mind, maybe I will sit.  Just for a moment."

"I insist that you do.  You really should be in bed."

"Too much for to do."  Gamilla shook her head.  "Besides, I gotta get back to Master Colin soon enough.  Poor Ethel's had to take on my duties as well as her own.  Ain't fair."

"Ethel is strong."  Lennie replied softly.  "Not to suggest that you're not, Gamilla."

"I understand, Your Ladyship."  Gamilla looked compassionately at Lennie.  "Oh, Miss, you got such worry on your face.  Don't give in to it.  You gotta let all that worry just wash over ya.  Ain't gonna be no good to ya.  You need to think about bein' well."

"I can't help it."  Lennie pulled her blankets up to her chin.

"I know you're worried 'bout Miss Morgana."

"I am,"  Lennie nodded.  "And my brother, and Robert...and Colin.  And George and poor Mrs. Pepper.  I'm upset that you were harmed and that Gerard was so heartbroken when he though he lost you.  I'm sad for William.  Though we didn't know him, he seemed like such a nice lad, and, really, no one should die the way he did--and, so young."

"Worryin' ain't gonna put the breath in William's lungs again.  Nor is it gonna bring Miss Morgana back to the house or stop Jackson, and Miss Blessum and the vicar from their strange, frightenin' scheme."

"I know.  As I said, it can't be helped."  Lennie mumbled.  "I just feel so...helpless.  And, well, to be honest, Gamilla, I feel guilty."

"You mustn't."  Gamilla patted Lennie's hand.

"Had I not pressed Punch into learning more about...about from where I came, well..."  She pressed her lips together for a moment.  "We'd not have come here were it not for me.  Had we just stayed in London, George wouldn't have been in peril, you wouldn't have suffered, nor would have Gerard.  Everyone is in turmoil.  Mrs. Pepper, Ethel, Maudie, Charles and Vi.  My brother and Robert.  Because I've been so selfish, I've out everyone in danger.  Even Lord Cleaversworth."

"Ain't selfish to want to know where ya come from."  Gamilla shook her head.  "And, you didn't put no one in danger, Miss Lennie.  If we'd not come here, your poor Auntie'd still be locked up in the attic."

"She's not in any better place now."  Lennie replied.

"Maybe not in the flesh, but, in her heart and in her mind, Your Ladyship, she's much better off because she knows she's got a family.  She knows she's loved and that there are folk who ain't gonna look down on her because she's...she's not like everyone else.  Even if she only knew that for a few days, Miss, she's that much better because you come here."

"Thank you for that."  Lennie nodded.  "Nonetheless, everyone else..."

"You'll pardon me sayin' it, Your Ladyship, but you can't torture yourself this way.  None o' this is your doin'.  Mr. Jackson and Miss Blessum and the vicar, they'd still have their mad plan to bring the duchess back to life whether you was here or not."

"Yes."

"I think you let your mother's spirit make ya feel badly, Your Ladyship.  We can't let her have that kind of power over ya.  All that's gonna do is give her more and more strength.  In life, she was a  nightmare of a person.  I know this for true.  I seen it for myself before she died.  In death, all that's left of her is that horror.  You want to call someone selfish, Miss, it's she."

"But, I'm her daughter, aren't I?"

"Well, yes.  But, that ain't got a thing to do with it."  Gamilla answered.

"Doesn't it?  Think of the two people who gave me life.  Johnny Donnan--a brute of a man.  And, Pauline.  That's my heritage, Gamilla.  That's what's inside of me.  Surely I'm just the same.  Wicked to the core."

"Now, Miss Lennie, you don't believe that.  His Grace had the same mother.  You don't think him wicked, do ya?"

"No.  Remember, though, that my brother had a different father.  Sir Colin was a fine, decent man.  His Grace takes after his father.  I don't have the luxury of one kind parent.  I'm wicked throughout."

"There's nothin' to what you're sayin'."  Gamilla argued.  "A child don't have to be like her parents.  Wickedness ain't somethin' what's passed on in the blood like the color o' your eyes."

"Gamilla, I do appreciate what you're saying..."

"I ain't just sayin' it, Miss Lennie.  I mean it for true.  Now, you listen to me.  I've known ya for as long as you been with this family, and I've only known ya to be gentle, and thoughtful and generous."

"You didn't know me in the decades before."  Lennie inhaled softly.  "I've done some awful things."

"Who hasn't?"

"Just look at what came of my weakness.  I let Orpha Polk take my name and my life."  She shook her head and repeated.  "Just look what came of that.  In the last year, I've brought nothing but sorrow to the family because of my selfish ways."

"That ain't so!"  Gamilla said firmly.

Lennie closed her eyes.  "Gamilla, I do think you should go back to your room and rest.  Gerard will be looking for you soon enough, and, you don't want him to have to scold you for not taking care of yourself."

"I ain't leavin', Miss.  Not until you see that what you're sayin' is wrong."

"I'm tired, Gamilla.  I think I shall just sleep for awhile.  You'd do me a tremendous favor if I could know you're resting.  For you and the baby."

"But, Your Ladyship..."

"Please Gamilla."

"I don't want to leave you alone."  Gamilla replied.

"I'll be fine.  Lord Colinshire will be in soon."

"Yes, but, I think I'll stay with ya.  Just until His Grace comes back, too.  You'll see.  He'll come back before goin' the folly, and, you'll see he's safe and that he didn't fall into the trap that them..."

Lennie interrupted.  "I really just want to sleep."

Gamilla sniffed.  "Very well, if that's what ya want."

"I do."  Lennie answered.

Gamilla nodded.  "I'll come back soon."

"Yes, of course."

Without another word, Gamilla left.  Instead of going back to her room, she went, instead, to look for Robert--hoping that somehow he could find a way to convince Lennie that she was wrong.

Alone in her room, Lennie cried softly.  "My blood is diseased.  Whatever shall I do?"  Looking across the bed to the writing table, she saw a gleaming answer to her mad question.



Did you miss Chapters 1-112 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 114.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 113

Chapter 113: 

Choreography 

Gerard hoped that when Gamilla quietly retreated from the hustle and bustle of the Great Hall that she’d slipped away to wait for him. He paused for as long as he could before following her onto the veranda. He found her seated under the arbor on the stone bench which Dr. Halifax favored. He gasped upon seeing her. The moonlight flickered in the beads on her gown and the rhinestones which adorned her headdress. Her black hair gleaming about her shoulders, she did, indeed, look as Gerard imagined the great beauty Cleopatra must have looked.

Clearing his throat to alert her of his presence, and, then, cautiously approached her.

Looking up, she smiled. “It’s hot in there.”

Gerard nodded shyly.

“But, it sure is beautiful. Ain’t it?”

“It is.” Gerard said softly.

“I think everyone’s havin’ a true good time. His Grace seems so pleased.”

“He likes to see people happy.” Gerard replied, stepping a little closer. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am.” Gamilla grinned. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it—all them folk makin’ merry, laughin’ and dancin’ them Scottish dances. Everyone in their fine fancy dress. Drinkin’ wine and lookin’ so smart. And, that cake—did you ever see such a great cake?”

“Not ever.” Gerard shook his head. “Can’t wait ‘til His Grace cuts it.”

“Should be soon.” Gamilla sighed contentedly.

“Kinda reminds a person of a wedding.” Gerard blushed.

“Kinda.” Gamilla looked down at the tiles.

“Do you think you might like to dance?” Gerard asked.

“Oh…” Gamilla shook her head.

“’Milla?” Gerard grinned sheepishly.

“Well…I wouldn’t know how. I don’t know them dances—all them folk spinnin’ ‘bout to the pipers.”

“I don’t either, but we could learn.” Gerard answered softly. “Even Charles and Vi are dancin’.”

“Everyone is.” Gamilla nodded. She giggled. “Did ya see Georgie dancin’ with his ma? I thought Mrs. Pepper was gonna fall right over. But, she done real good.”

Gerard laughed. “I think she had a bit of the Duke’s wine. Don’t think she can handle it.”

Gamilla sighed again—this time it was an expression of sadness.

“Sorry.” Gerard blushed.

“What for?”

“I wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout what happened earlier today.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Why’d you take the drink, Gamilla?” Gerard asked.

“Like Mrs. North said, I was…I thought it was yours.”

Gerard nodded.

“I didn’t expect it to be…you know…”

“I know.”

Gerard sniffed. “Gamilla…is there somethin’ you ain’t tellin’ me?”

Gamilla looked away.

“If there is, well…I want you to know that it don’t matter. Ain’t gonna change what I think ‘bout you. Nothin’ could. I mean…I feel…” he trailed off.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong, Gerry.” Gamilla responded.

“Cuz if there is…”

“Ain’t nothin’.” Gamilla shook her head. Her mind raced with Finlay’s threats—his demands that she find a way to have Gerard fired, extricated from Dr. Halifax, or, as Finlay, claimed he’d kill Gerard. Worse still, Gamilla recalled, was Finlay’s threat that he’d harm Colin if she told anyone. Thank goodness, Gamilla thought, that Mrs. North could be trusted.

“What ya thinkin’ bout?” Gerard asked.

“Mrs. North.” Gamilla answered honestly.

“She took a real likin’ to you.” Gerard smiled.

“She’s a fine lady.” Gamilla answered. “I like her dress, too. Don’t know what she is, but I reckon it’s some kind of fairy.”

“Somethin’.” Gerard shrugged. “Some Scottish somethin’. I’m surprised she can see what with that bonnet coverin’ her eyes like that.”

Gamilla laughed. “She told me before she took her nap this afternoon that she was gonna look after Colin later tonight so that the Duke and the doctor can have some freedom. And, ‘specially, so I can enjoy the party.”

“I thought Mrs. Pepper was gonna do that.”

“Mrs. North—she volunteered. She said Mrs. Pepper was young ‘nough to still enjoy the ball. It were right kind of her.”

“Sure, she’s a nice lady.” Gerard said softly.

“Reckon we should go back in.” Gamilla stood up.

“So, will ya dance with me?”

“Gerry, ya know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cuz…” Gamilla shook her head. “Ain’t fit.”

“Why?”

“It just ain’t fit.”

“Because you’re African and I’m not.”

“Part of it.” Gamilla shrugged. “What would all them folk think?”

“I don’t think they’d care.”

“Maybe not the other servants, but them lords and ladies from them other estates…”

“What do we care?”

Gamilla smiled slightly. “Remember what Mr. Speaight done said tonight. He said whatever we do is a reflection on the household of the Duke of Fallbridge and that we’re honor bound to show the folks of Aberdeenshire that His Grace is a man of elegance and fineness.”

“His Grace would be the first one to tell us to dance together.”

“Still…”

“I can hear the music.” Gerard stepped forward.

“Well, of course.” Gamilla giggled.

“So…” He took her hand.

“What ya doin’?” Gamilla stepped back.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

“You know I do, Gerry.”

“Well, then…” Gerard put his arm around her waist.

“Out here?”

“Well, you don’t want the lords and ladies to see you.” Gerard winked.

Gamilla took Gerard’s hand. Without another word, they danced in the moonlight.



Did you miss Chapters 1-112 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 114.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 113

“Well, Doctor?” The Duchess of Fallbridge smirked. “What is your recommendation?”


“Lord Fallbridge would not benefit from being held captive in an asylum.” Robert spat. “How could you suggest such a thing for your own son? Have you any idea how those poor souls are treated? Is that what you’d want your son to endure?” Robert looked quickly at Cecil. They each knew they were both thinking of their own mother at that moment.

“I wish for my son to not be a lunatic!” The Duchess answered. “Since that is not a possibility, my next wish is to see that he’s comfortable and out of the way. Or, at least comfortably out of the way.”

“Listen, I ain’t no lunatic.” Mr. Punch snapped, dropping the pretense, of speaking like Julian entirely.

“Your argument leaves something to be desired,” Pauline laughed.

“Chum,” Mr. Punch said desperately, “Don’t let her take me to some awful place.”

“I won’t, my dear boy.” Robert said firmly.

“She’d have to get through both of us before that ever happened, and it’s not likely that she could.” Cecil added.

“All three of us,” Adrienne rose to stand next to her men.

“And a slew of other people—all of whom love your son and wish to protect him.” Robert smiled.

“Protect him from me?” The Duchess feigned a look of hurt. “From his own mother?”

“You’re no mother.” Adrienne shouted. “You’re some kind of monster.”

“A dragon,” Punch mumbled to himself.

Adrienne continued. “Un certain genre de monstre dans une belle robe. Votre parures n'est pas vous faire toute moins horrible. C'est les femmes comme vous qui donnent la maternité une fausseté. Vous êtes une honte pour le mot ‘mère.’”

“Tranquille, prostituée. Vous ne pensez pas je sais que l'oms et ce que vous êtes! Vous avez passé votre vie sur le dos, laissant hommes vous toucher. Je ne vais pas vous laisser me juger!” Pauline growled.

“She’s been with Iolanthe.” Cecil grunted. “I knew it. That woman has her claws in everything.”

“Who I’ve seen is none of your concern, sculptor!” Pauline smiled.

“Then you know what’s become of your daughter,” Mr. Punch said. “Did she tell you that her child—that she sold her child? Yes, Duchess, there’s a babe with Fallbridge blood in his veins being raised by another family, there is. You come here with your wickedness lookin’ to destroy all what you see, when your time might be better spent tryin’ to help your favorite child and her kin.”

“Leave us.” Pauline said sharply. “Leave me with my son. I wish to speak with him—as best as I can.”

“We have no intention of leaving this man alone with you.” Robert answered, putting his arm around Julian’s shoulders.

“It’s no matter, Chum.” Mr. Punch shook Julian’s head. “If she wants me alone, she’ll find a way to get to me.”

“No,” Robert answered. “I won’t have it.”

“My son is not averse to being alone with his mother,” Pauline grinned. “Let me speak with him privately. What I have to say to him is not for the likes of you to hear.”

“It’ll be fine,” Mr. Punch whispered to Robert. “I can handle meself.”

“Stop talking that way!” The Duchess shouted.

“I’ll talk any way I like,” Mr. Punch said. “If I talk this way, you’re the reason.”

Robert looked to Cecil and Adrienne who stared back at him helplessly. He took a deep breath. “We will not leave His Lordship alone with you.”

“Chum…”

“No,” Robert said gently.

“Very well…” The Duchess sighed. “Have your way. I wish to speak with my son about his inheritance. I shall do it in front of you if I must…”

At that very moment, further down Royal Street, Ulrika Rittenhouse awoke in a bed at Edward Cage’s city house. She rolled over and looked at Arthur who slumbered next to her—drooling on the pillow.

She clutched his bare shoulder in her hand and dug her fingernails into his flesh. He awoke with a groan.

“My head…my head aches.” Arthur moaned.

“That’s good, my dear.” Ulrika hissed.

“Where’s Barbara?”

“Probably about to meet her first caller of the day.” Ulrika laughed. “You’re better off with me.”

“I hate you.” Arthur sat up, looking around the room.

“I know.” Ulrika smiled. “Isn’t it delicious, really?”

“Give me the diamond and let me find my wife.” Arthur coughed.

“Your wife?” Ulrika sighed. “Suddenly, you’ve become protective and husbandly. How sweet.”

“What have you given us? What is that awful stuff you made us eat?”

“Just one more way to ensure that you’re mine, Arthur, dear.” Ulrika chuckled.

“I’m not yours.” Arthur got out of the bed, looking for his clothes.

“You are. As long as I want you, you are.” Ulrika reached for Arthur’s arm. “I get everything that I want.”

“Not this time, Pet.” Arthur said, pushing Ulrika backward onto the bed. He put on his pants and began to rummage through Ulrika’s baggage.

“You won’t find the diamond there.” Ulrika laughed.

“Where is it?” Arthur demanded.

“Keep your voice down, you fool!” Ulrika spat.

“Where’s the bloody diamond?” Arthur demanded again.

“It shall be yours.” Ulrika grinned. “You just need to complete two little tasks for me first…”



Did you miss Chapters 1-112? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 114 of Punch’s Cousin.