Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 128

Chapter 128: 

Her Poor Mother 


Robert took a few cautious steps toward Lady Lensdown as the occupants of the Great Hall fell silent.

“Tell me, Baroness,” Robert began softly. “What’s happened? How were you injured?”

Lady Lensdown moaned softly and stiffly extended her bloodied hands.

“I’m going to try to help you, if you’ll let me.” Robert said soothingly.

“No.” The baroness rasped. She withdrew her hands and wiped them on her gown—the action, however, only served to bloody her hands more as they brushed across the crimson stain which had ruined the bodice of her opulent attire.

“You’ve asked for help,” Robert nodded patiently. “I can help you.”

“I don’t need help.” She sobbed.

“Clearly you do.” Robert continued.

“It’s not me who wants help.” The baroness cried.

“I don’t understand.” Robert shook his head.

“I think she’s too distraught to make sense, Sir.” Gerard whispered as he came up behind the doctor.

“It’s Martha.” Lady Lensdown groaned. “She’s dead.”

Robert squinted. “Martha?” He paused for a moment. What was Mrs. North’s Christian name? Was it “Martha?” How could the baroness have found Mrs. North? From where had the blood come?

“In the blue parlor.” The baroness continued. “Martha…there on the floor by the fire.”

“Mother?” Lady Constance shrieked from the rear of the hall. She pushed her way through the crowd and came upon the baroness, kneeling at her side. “Mother’s dead?”

“Stabbed through the heart.” The baroness whimpered.

“Dear God,” Robert hissed as he realized that the baroness had found the murdered body of the Countess Hamish.

“Take me to her.” Lady Constance begged. “I must see her.”

“No.” Robert said quickly. “I think it’s best that my man and I investigate first.”

“I will not be kept from my mother.” Lady Constance snapped. “She needs me.”

“You’re no good to her now.” Robert said as gently as possible. “Please, let me go first.”

Lady Constance raised her hands and tugged on her elaborate coiffure until the straw-like strands of her hair came loose from their pins and false curls. “Doctor, she’s my mother.”

“I know what it means to lose a mother.” Robert nodded. “I truly do. However, let me spare you a grisly scene. Let me tend to her first so that you might remember her peacefully.”

Lady Constance’s angry face fell into one of resolve. “Yes.” She whispered.

“Furthermore,” Robert began, raising his voice so that he would be heard by all of those in the Great Hall. “I fear for the Lady’s safety. This is the second murder that has taken place in this house tonight. The first victim was our dear Mrs. North.”

A rattling cry arose from the staff who shrieked “No” amongst other mournful shouts.

“I must ask everyone to stay in this room. No one may leave.” Robert continued.

Scanning the crowd, Robert spotted the Baron Lensdown who leaned casually against one of the clustered stone columns which supported the hall’s Tudor-style arcade. “And, you, Sir, you might come for your wife.”

The Baron shrugged and, after adjusting his cuff buttons, stepped through the crowd.

Still on her knees, Lady Lensdown turned to Constance. “Connie, dear,” She sobbed. “This is my fault. I am to blame.”

“Shhhh…” Constance shook her head, putting her hands on the baroness’ shoulders. “Don’t say such things.”

“Your poor mother,” Lady Lensdown cried. “Your poor mother. And, you poor girl. I shall try to be a mother to you as I might.”

“Gertrude.” The baron snapped as he approached his wife. “Come with me. You’ve made enough of a fool of yourself for the night.”

Robert clucked his tongue in disgust. He looked up and caught sight of Ethel, Jenny and Georgie Pepper who stood next to Mrs. Pepper who had her hand over her mouth.

Nodding his head, Robert signaled to the four who came forward to the assistance of Lady Lensdown.

“Come with us, Dearie.” Mrs. Pepper said softly, offering a hand to the baroness who, with gratitude, took it.

“Where are you taking my wife?” The baron sniffed.

“To help her, Sir.” Mrs. Pepper scowled. “An amusing thought to you, I’m sure.”

“Come wit’ us, Miss.” Ethel whispered to Lady Constance. “We’ll take ya to the kitchens and give ya some tea, then.”

Lady Constance nodded.

Satisfied that Constance and Lady Lensdown were being looked-after, Robert tapped Gerard on his shoulder and the two headed for the Blue Drawing Room—steeling themselves in preparation for the brutal scene they were about to encounter.



Did you miss Chapters 1-127 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for another chapter of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 128

Mr. Punch howled as Arthur wrestled him to the ground.


“I ain’t done nothin’ to ya!” Mr. Punch screamed. “I never done nothin’ to ya! Why do you have to torture me?”

“Sure, you done somethin’ to me, kindly Lord Fallbridge,” Arthur taunted Mr. Punch. “Don’t you recall tryin’ to throw me in the sea?”

“After ya poisoned me and me chum! Why? Why do ya hate me? What’d I ever do? Weren’t I good to ya when you were me master’s footman? All the while, you’re botherin’ Lady Barbara and makin’ her with child! All the while you’re takin’ what ain’t yours! And, then…” Punch yelped as Arthur kicked him in the side.

“Arthur!” Ulrika shouted. “Control yourself. This isn’t the way. Pick him up and take him into the mews.”

Arthur tried to lift Mr. Punch from the banquette, but Punch struggled, biting Arthur’s hand. Arthur slapped Julian across the face.

“No!” Ulrika screamed. “Don’t leave any marks on him.”

Before Arthur could respond, he was knocked the ground with one swift punch to the jaw—delivered by a panting Robert Halifax.

Arthur moaned, lying on the ground as Ulrika rushed to his side.

“He’s bleeding!” Ulrika said fiercely. “Dr. Halifax, you’re a brute!”

“Be quiet, bitch!” Robert spat, helping Mr. Punch to his feet. “Or you’ll get the same. Woman or not!”

“Yeah,” Mr. Punch mumbled as he leaned on Robert. “Shut yer gob!”

“I demand that you stay,” Ulrika bellowed. “You’ve hurt Arthur quite badly. Look at the blood!”

“I hope he chokes on it.” Robert grunted. He put his arm around Julian’s waist. “We’re going home.”

With that, he led Punch away from Arthur and Ulrika.

“Are you hurt?” Robert asked Punch as they walked.

“Not so much,” Mr. Punch said. “Coo. Ya got a wicked fist, don’t ya?” He smiled. “Nice to see it. That’s the way to do it!”

“As a rule, dear Punch, I don’t make a habit of striking people. However, in this instance, I feel it was quite justified.”

“You won’t get no argument from me.” Mr. Punch chuckled, wincing for a moment as his felt the throbbing in his side where Arthur had kicked him. “What do those folk got against me?”

“I don’t think they have anything against you personally—except for the fact that you’re alive and in their way. It’s greed that motivates them, Punch, not hatred.”

“Ain’t it the same thing?” Mr. Punch asked softly.

“It rather is—at its core.” Robert nodded.

“Here, how’d you find me?” Punch asked.

“Marjani said she had a feeling that you were in trouble. I was actually headed toward Iolanthe’s when I saw you with Arthur and Ulrika.”

“How’s Naasir?” Mr. Punch asked, leaning further on Robert.

“Not well.” Robert sighed.

“Is he gonna live?” Mr. Punch asked.

“I don’t know.” Robert shook his head. “I don’t know if he wants to.”

“Why not?” Punch asked. “Why not want to live? Sure, the world’s got wicked folk what’ll kick ya and call ya names, but it’s also got chums and dogs and sausages and pretty things to see. That’s worth livin’ for.”

Robert smiled, “Perhaps you can convince Naasir of that.”

He paused. “Mr. Punch, where’s the Duchess of Fallbridge?”

“Left her at Iolanthe’s.” Mr. Punch answered. “I realized somethin’, I did. Realized that you can’t help people what don’t want to be helped. Her Grace wants to be miserable, she does. She wants to be miserable so she can make folk even more miserable. Tryin’ to save her weren’t no good. Wouldn’t a done a bloody thing.”

“We just have to help ourselves, I suppose.” Robert said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Ulrika and Arthur weren’t following them. He could still see them in the distance, Ulrika leaning over Arthur and trying to help him to his feet.

Robert sighed. “You’re right, dear Punch, you can’t help someone who doesn’t care to be helped.”

Meanwhile, in the house on Royal Street, Marjani applied more salve to Naasir’s terrible burns. Naasir reached for Marjani’s arm with his charred hand, shuddering with pain.

“Don’t try to move, Honey,” Marjani said.

“Help me,” Naasir croaked.

“That’s what we’re tryin’ to do,” Marjani smiled. “Come on, lemme give ya something that’ll take the pain away. Dr. Halifax done left this bottle here. I know it’ll help ya.”

“No.” Naasir rasped.

“How can I help ya, Honey?” Marjani asked gently.

“Kill me.” Naasir coughed. “Please.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-127? If so, you can read them here.