A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 115

Chapter 115
Worries



"Oh, Your Lordship, there you are."  Gamilla panted.  

Robert was just climbing the wide, cascading staircase.  

When he spied Gamilla, he hurried up the rest of the way to the landing.

"Gamilla, what are you doing out of bed?"  Robert frowned.  "I told you to remain in bed for the rest of the day.  Gerard is going to be beside himself when he finds that you've left your room."

"I had to see to Miss Lennie."  Gamilla confessed.  "And, I'm glad I did."

"Is she worse?  Has she lost consciousness again?"  Robert asked, alarmed.

"No, she's still awake, but she ain't in a good mind."

"How do you mean?"  Robert raised an eyebrow.

"She's talkin' nonsense, Sir.  Goin' on about how all that's happened is her fault and sayin' how she's a wicked woman because she takes after her parents."  Gamilla answered.

Robert sighed.  "Of course you told her that none of this is her doing?"

"I did."

"As for the other worry, I'm afraid that it's something which preys upon Her Ladyship's thoughts all the time.  I suppose it rather preys upon many of us--that thought that we're doomed to repeat the sins of our forebears.  I know I give it much thought.  My father was a gambler who cared more for the thrill of his games than he did for us, and, my mother...well, you know what became of her."  He pressed his hands together as he thought.  "His Grace has similar worries.  I imagine that all we can do is continue to reassure one another that such concerns are irrational.  We are each our own individual spirit.  I've had this conversation with Lennie many a time before."

"Perhaps, Sir, you can have it again."  Gamilla said softly.  "I've known Miss Lennie to have these moments when she done let herself fall into sadness with such thoughts.  But, I never seen her so lost to it before.  She even spoke of Orpha Polk.  Seems she's goin' through each memory of everything she's ever done or said in her life and makin' herself suffer for what she thinks are her mistakes."

"I'll speak with her.  I was about to fetch my boots so I might go out looking for His Grace, Charles and Lord Cleaversworth.  I'm terribly concerned that they've not returned and I'm..."  He paused.  

"I understand, Sir.  You also gotta be worried they've fallen into danger, and that Miss Morgana may be worse off than...than she was before.  Not to mention poor Mr. Perkins who's still lost."

Robert nodded.  "Perhaps you could find Gerard and have him get my boots and such at the ready."

"I will."  Gamilla nodded. 

"Then, back to bed with you."  Robert said firmly.

"Lord Colinshire, I'm not feelin' poorly no more.  Besides, Master Colin needs me.  Poor Ethel's been at my post for..."

"No."  Robert interrupted.  "If Ethel needs assistance, Violet can help her for the remainder of the day, or,  we can even pull Maudie from her post.  I want you to rest.  If you don't do it for your own good, consider the child inside of you."

"Yes, Sir."  Gamilla nodded.  "Just after I find my husband."

"Thank you.  And...thank you for letting me know about Her Ladyship.  I'll go to her anon."

Gamilla smiled with relief before hurrying off to find Gerard who was, no doubt, already in the chambers shared by His Grace and His Lordship.

Robert wound his way through the echoing corridors to Lennie's suite.  As he opened opened the door, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his thorax--a queasiness which told him that something was terribly wrong.

Upon entering the room, he knew at once that the feeling was accurate.

Gazing in panic at the pool of blood which had spread out across the floor near Lennie's bed, he gasped.  "Lennie, what have you done!"


Did you miss Chapters 1-114 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back on Monday for Chapter 116.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 115

Chapter 115: 
Up Close 


“Oh, pardon me,” A plump woman said softly as she wandered onto the veranda. She was dressed in a grand, shimmering gown of sapphire blue encrusted with pale green beads and lush golden embroidery dotted with coral-colored spangles and hung with passementerie of metallic gold and coral threads. On her head she wore an unusual tiara constructed of stalks of coral from the sea and, around her throat hung a necklace of sparking pink topaz and diamonds. Her gloved arms were stacked with bracelets of gold and diamonds and, in her hand, she held a fan painted with a bucolic scene.

Gerard and Gamilla broke their embrace and Gamilla quickly turned away.

“Am I interrupting something?” The woman asked.

“Not at all.” Gerard bowed slightly.

“Young lady,” The woman spoke up. “Please turn toward me so that I might see your gown.”

Gamilla, terribly embarrassed, turned slightly toward the woman.

“Stunning.” The woman smiled. “Truly, stunning.”

“Thank you.” Gamilla nodded.

“How ever did you get your face to be that color? And, your hands? How fascinating. You look so exotic.”

Gamilla looked at the tile of the veranda. “I…” She took a deep breath. “This is the color that I am.”

“Oh.” The woman grinned pleasantly. “You must be His Grace’s governess.”

“Only temporarily.” Gamilla nodded.

“I do hope I’ve not offended you, young lady.” The woman stepped forward. “It’s just that I’ve never seen someone like you before. Not up close. There once was that man with the peg leg who played the violin outside of the Drury Lane Theatre. He had skin like yours. I remember being a young girl and always wanting Mummy to take me past him so that I could put a coin in the hat that his dog held up in his mouth. But, I’ve never seen a woman of your kind before. Your skin is so beautiful—so flawless. I thought surely that it must be some sort of make up. You’re so fortunate to have such beautiful skin. I always struggle so with mine. Would that patches were still in fashion, I’d have them all over my face. So, please accept my apology. I just think you’re simply stunning.”

“Thank you…” Gamilla smiled, realizing that the woman was genuine. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to address you.”

“That, I’m afraid, is my fault as well.” The woman chirped. “I am the Baroness Lensdown.”

“Oh, my lady.” Gamilla said quickly.

Gerard stiffened his back.

“I don’t mean to interrupt you, truly.” The baroness continued. “I was simply looking for my husband. He tends to slip away from me at events such as this. It’s terribly tiresome. You’ve not seen him, have you? He’s thin and tall with dark hair and a rather stony expression on his face most of the time.”

“I’ve not seen him, Baroness.” Gerard replied.

“You’re the Duke’s man?” Baroness Lensdown asked.

“No, Lady Lensdown. I’m Dr. Halifax’s man, Gerard Gurney.”

“Ah, yes.” The baroness replied. She smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you to your chat. The moonlight is so lovely. You’re very fortunate, Gerard, your companion is, doubtlessly, the most lovely woman at the ball.”

“She is, Baroness. Thank you.”

“Good evening, then.” She nodded. Pausing, she sighed. “If you happen to see the baron, would you please tell him that I’ll be waiting for him near the fireplace?”

“Yes, Lady Lensdown.” Gamilla replied.

“Thank you so much.” The baroness replied politely.

Just as she was about to turn to go into the castle, Robert and Punch—still carrying Colin—emerged.

“There you are, Gamilla, Gerard.” Punch grinned. He had already noticed the baroness and was careful to speak as Julian. “Baroness, good evening. I trust you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Very much so.” The baroness responded. “Thank you so much for including us. Your father, I’m sure, would have been most proud of this evening.”

“I’m pleased to know it, Lady Lensdown.” Mr. Punch answered.

“Oh, now…” The baroness sighed. “Let’s dispense with those burdensome formalities. Do call me Gertrude.”

“As you wish.” Mr. Punch nodded. “You’re welcome to refer to me as Julian. Allow me to introduce you to my companion…”

“Ah, Dr. Halifax.” The baroness smiled. “What a pleasure to meet you finally. I’ve heard so much of you. You’ve become the physician of choice in Belgravia and Mayfair.”

“That’s very kind of you, Gertrude. My Christian name is Robert.”

“My friend the Countess Hamish—oh, she can be such a burden sometimes—does not care for you at all, Robert. But, truly, I can’t see why. Even in this brief amount of time, I find you most agreeable.”

“Most people do.” Mr. Punch spoke up.

“Don’t let Hamish bother you.” Gertrude clucked her tongue. “She’s really a bore and, frankly, her only delight is complaining and gossiping. If I didn’t feel so obligated to her, I wouldn’t bother with her at all.”

Robert and Punch both nodded.

“And, you son, Julian.” Gertrude grinned. “What a beautiful boy. How wonderful for you to have found him.”

“Thank you.” Punch smiled proudly. “He’s our greatest joy.”

“I can see why.” Baroness Lensdown cooed. “Oh, but listen to me prattle on when you’ve clearly come out with purpose. I’ve already intruded on your handsome valet and this gorgeous young lady. You see, I’ve been looking for the Baron. Have you seen him?”

“Not in the last hour or so.” Robert shook his head. “However, I’m sure he’s in there somewhere. With everyone milling about, it’s difficult to keep track.”

“I think I last spotted him talking to Finlay Donnan—the footman here at the Grange.” Punch said.

Gertrude’s pleasant face fell into a frown. “Oh?”

Robert noted her change in attitude. “Yes. They were standing near the wine cooler. I suspect the Baron was trying to convince Finlay to show him how it works.”

“Oh, Victor is always so slow with new things. I’m sure that’s it.”

“We’re about to gather everyone so we can cut the great cake.” Mr. Punch smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find him, then. In fact, that’s why we came out to find Gerard and Gamilla.”

“The cake is so beautiful.” The baroness began to smile again. “And, it smells so delightful.”

“Please join us,” Robert nodded.

“I think I shall.” Gertrude replied.

“If you’ll allow us, Colin and I will escort you inside,” Mr. Punch volunteered.

“How kind. You’re all so kind.” Gertrude nodded, joining the Duke.

With his back to the baroness, Robert smiled at Gerard and Gamilla.

Gerard shrugged as Robert stifled a chuckle.

“Shall we?” Robert asked.

“Yes, Dr. Halifax.” Gamilla answered.

“You can get back to your moonlight after the cake is cut.” Robert winked.

“Sir…” Gerard blushed.

“Come now…” Robert laughed. “We want you two and Charles to have the first pieces.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-114? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 116 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 115

The Duchess of Fallbridge whimpered as Mala held her down on the bed. She’d long given up struggling—realizing that doing so would only make her situation that much worse. She yelped as the knife pierced her skin.


“It’ll only hurt for a minute,” Iolanthe Evangeline smiled. “Then, you’ll feel nothing.”

The Duchess moaned as she felt the warmth of her blood rise on her arm.

“Be patient, Your Grace.” Iolanthe laughed. “It’s almost finished.”

“Somehow,” Pauline panted, “Somehow I knew that I would be tortured for what I’ve done. But,” She began to sob, “I didn’t think…”

“I don’t suppose you did.” Iolanthe chuckled. “Now, you just hush.”

“You’re a monster…” Pauline spat breathlessly.

“So I’m told.” Iolanthe grinned. “But, am I really? Which of us is the ogress, Duchess. You or me? Folk are quick to call me a monster. But, what have I done? I give girls like your daughter a place to live and food in their bellies in exchange for the simplest work. I take their children and see that they’re raised in homes of wealth and privilege. Does that make me an ogress? The blood on my hands is only the blood of those who deserved to spill their lives. I give folk pleasure. So, why am I a monster? Sure, I got greed. We all do, but I make no secret of it. You took a life, Your Grace. Now, you’re giving yours to help an innocent child live. You see, I’m a mother, too. That’s right. I’m a mother, too. My boy—he’s different. His is a horrible burden. Folk’ll call him a monster, too, but not for the same reasons. But, I got power, you see. I don’t want you thinkin’ that I don’t. My power is so great, I put the fear in Marie Laveau herself. You’ll be rewarded for helping me. My son will go to Heaven one day—with the same face and the same mind that everyone else has got. And, when he does, maybe he’ll remember the woman whose blood saved him. And, when he does, maybe you’ll have one second of peace in your hell.”

Pauline shut her eyes and let her body go limp. Her mind filled with a rush of images—her marriage to Sir Collin, the death of her father, the day she became The Duchess of Fallbridge, the birth of Julian, the exact moment when she knew that Julian was, himself, different and the pangs of hatred she felt for her own son. Pictures of Barbara raced by, rushes of emotions—anger, terrible want, desire. Arthur’s face, Barbara’s face, Julian’s strange stare. She felt the sensation of cool diamonds against her throat, the excitement of the rough touch of Arthur, the stink of whisky on a stranger’s breath.

She opened her eyes. All of the other faces were gone. All that remained were Mala’s hideous squint and Iolanthe’s triumphant grin. Her body shuddered as Iolanthe laughed.

“You just rest now,” Iolanthe said softly, “And, know that my boy thanks you.”

“Go get the priest.” Iolanthe whispered harshly to Mala. “Don’t come back without him. Do exactly what I taught you.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Punch sighed with satisfaction. “That was a good breakfast, that was. Lots of sausages.” He grabbed a hunk of bread and offered it to Toby who took it happily, tail wagging. Looking across the table to his puppet, he smiled. “Don’t know what you’re missin’, me wooden chum. A lot of trouble these human bodies are, but I’ll tell ya, it’s worth it for a breakfast such as what we just had.”

Punch surveyed his human companions. They poked at their food with their forks.

“Come on, then. Ain’t no good lettin’ the stinkin’ Duchess put you off your food. What’s it that you’re always tellin’ me, Chum? You gotta eat. Right? Well, you’re a doctor, you know what you gotta do. So, eat up. No use you gettin’ sick again.”

“I’m not terribly hungry.” Robert smiled.

“You’re just not used to Her Grace like what me and me master are.” Mr. Punch said. “Don’t let her bother you. We told her what we felt, and I gotta say, it felt right good to do it. It’s ‘bout time someone told her.”

“We’re all just a little worried, Chers Punch.” Adrienne said softly. “We’ve so much on our minds. This is not how I envisioned our first Christmas together.”

Mr. Punch frowned. “Together—like all of us. But, you didn’t know ‘bout me and Julian until we showed up at your house.”

“When Robert wrote us and said he was bringing you, we knew that you would immediately be part of the family.” Cecil nodded.

“Oh.” Mr. Punch’s frown faded. He drummed the table with Julian’s’ fingers and squinted.

“Here, we had a happy day, we did. And, many more will come, I’m sure.” Mr. Punch said cheerfully. “We just gotta get past this awfulness.”

“And, we will.” Robert said firmly. “Soon.”

Little did they know that they were being watched through the tall windows of the dining room. Arthur peered through the glass—his eyes wide and dazed from the St. Dymphna’s root that Ulrika had forced upon him that morning. He ducked down when someone else entered the room—a dark-skinned woman he’d never seen before.

“Meridian,” Adrienne smiled. “How’s Fuller?”

“Full and happy.” Meridian smiled. “Listen, there’s a woman here for to see all of ya.”

“It’s not the…” Cecil began.

“No, Sir.” Meridian smiled. “This one came to the back door. She’s got a child with her. Says she’s your friend. Calls herself Marjani.”

“Oh!” Mr. Punch leapt to his feet. “Bring her in, please.”

“Sure will.” Meridian smiled.

“However did she manage to get off of Manuel Fontanals’ place?” Cecil wondered aloud.

Marjani entered the room and bowed her head. She was followed by a shy little girl of about three years old. The girl looked quite overwhelmed and confused.

“Your Lordship, Dr. Halifax, Mr. Halifax, Mrs. Halifax.” Marjani said softly.

“You look tired, Marjani,” Adrienne rose to her feet and went to the woman, putting a gentle hand on her arm.

“I am, ma’am.” Marjani said softly. “The Lady Mother done freed my Nontle and her husband from their horrible pain. And, then, Mr. Fontanals done freed me from his service.”

“He did?” Cecil asked.

“Yes, sir.” Marjani said, “But, I still got my pain.” She turned to the child and said gently, “Columbia, show yourself to the nice people.”

Columbia stepped forward awkwardly.

“This is my granddaughter, Columbia.”

“What a lovely girl, you are.” Adrienne smiled. Columbia smiled back at her.

“She’s a free girl.” Marjani said proudly. “She won’t never have to know what the rest of us have suffered. We come here to start anew. Bein’ as it was all of you who gave us the means to do it, we wanted to stop here and pay our respects.”

“Columbia, are you hungry?” Mr. Punch asked the girl.

Columbia looked up at her grandmother who responded, “It’s all right, Chil’. You tell the man.”

“I am,” Columbia nodded.

“Here, we must get some food for you.” Mr. Punch went to the sideboard and grabbed a plate.

“No, Sir, it ain’t fittin’ for us to take food with ya.” Marjani shook her head.

“And, why not?” Cecil smiled.

“Every person in this room is a free individual.” Robert added.

“Well, maybe the girl can eat some,” Marjani smiled weakly. “But, not for…” Marjani grasped the back of the chair in front of her and lurched forward slightly.

“Are you ill?” Robert asked, rushing to the woman’s side.

“No, Sir. Jus’ tired.” Marjani shook her head. She paused and shut her eyes for a moment before falling to the floor.



Did you miss Chapters 1-114? If so, you can read them here.