Showing posts with label Chapter 159. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter 159. Show all posts

Monday, October 8, 2012

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 159


Chapter 159: 

Ready to See 


“Escape?” Lennie sniffed.

“Sure,” Violet replied. “Don’t ya want to get out of here?”

“And go where?” Lennie asked.

“Home.” Charles answered.

“Where might that be?” Lennie sighed.

“You gotta have a home.” Violet exclaimed impatiently. “Everyone has a home.”

“Violet…” Charles whispered.

“Well, Charles.” Vi snapped.

“She doesn’t have a home.” Charles said softly.

“What about your father’s house?” Violet asked.

“We lost it when he died.” Lennie explained. “By the time Orpha…or Ellen…forced me to come to Scotland, I’d lost Father’s house. I had no income. When Father died, the money stopped. I suspect for years we’d been living off of an annuity of some sort from the Duchess of Fallbridge. After we’d learned that she was killed, times were lean indeed, but once Father was gone…”

“Didn’t you work? You said you worked?”

“For what?” Lennie asked. “Board and food. Miss, I’d guess you’re a maid. Do you have vast savings?”

“No.” Violet replied. “But, I’m not the sister of a Duke.”

“It’s true.” Charles spoke up. “The Duke of Fallbridge will help you and protect you. When he learns what this Orpha Polk has done to you and realizes that you—not she—is his sister, he’ll do whatever he can to give you a comfortable life.”

“Of course he will.” Violet nodded. “His Grace is a fine man.”

“Isn’t he mad?” Lennie asked cautiously. “I’ve heard he’s quite mad.”

Violet and Charles exchanged glances.

“I see.” Lennie sighed.

“No, no, Miss.” Violet said quickly. “I worked for the Duke for some time now and I ain’t never seen any sign of madness. He’s funny, yes. But, he’s very kind. Sure, I’ve heard what people say about him, but I never saw nothin’ what would make me think he’s a bad man. He’s very generous and gentle. Well…Charles, you’re his man…you tell her.”

“I know why people say the Duke is mad.” Charles answered slowly. “But, I’ve worked for him long enough to know that he’s the kindest man you’ll ever meet.”

“Sure,” Violet said. “His Grace and Charles—they’re friends. It ain’t just that Charles is the Duke’s valet. The Duke treats Charles like he’s an equal.”

“Is that so?” Lennie asked.

“It is.” Charles nodded.

“Still…” Lennie began.

“What other choice have you got, Miss?” Violet interrupted. “You can stay here and rot. You can come with us and go see the Duke. Seems to me that it’s a simple choice.”

“I don’t know that I’m ready to see him.” Lennie answered softly.

“So you’d rather stay here in this cellar and die?” Violet spat. “Well, I’m not gonna. Sure, maybe they took my hair, but they’re not takin’ my life! I’m young. I got livin’ to do. We’re leavin’. You can come if you want.”

“Violet,” Charles warned. “Don’t forget, this woman is the Duke’s sister.”

“She could be, if she wants. But, it don’t seem to me that she wants to be. So, right now, she’s a block in the road. She’s what’s keepin’ me from life!”

“I don’t mean to.” Lennie began to cry.

“Violet…” Charles clucked his tongue. “Look what you did.”

“Well, then, Charles, if you’re such a gentleman, you talk to her.”

“Miss,” Charles began. “If you don’t care to see the Duke, you don’t have to. However, Violet and I must free ourselves from here. We have responsibilities. Not just for our own survival, but to the masters and to our friends.”

“I don’t wish to delay you.” Lennie sniffed.

“Perhaps you can go to one of your other brothers.”

“They’re not my brothers.”

“Well, your cousins, then.” Charles nodded.

“They’ve their own lives. They never wished to bother with me.”

“Then, stay here and rot!” Violet shouted. “Charles, help me up on that trunk!”

Charles didn’t move.

“Fine, then.” Violet grumbled, scrambling up on the trunk which they’d pulled toward the high window. She grunted and turned to Charles. “You’re gonna have to help me. I still can’t reach it.”

“Go on,” Lennie nodded. “The two of you should escape. I’ll be fine.”

“We can’t leave you here, Miss. Johnny Donnan will return shortly, I’m sure of it.”

“My true father…” Lennie muttered.

“He doesn’t know you’re his daughter. He thinks that Ellen…Orpha…is.” Charles argued. “Tell him who you are.”

“Leave her be, Charles!” Violet shouted. “She don’t want savin’.”

“We can’t just leave her here.” Charles replied.

The three of them paused as they heard footsteps on the floor above them.

“Now, you’ve done it.” Violet hissed as she hopped down from the trunk. “We’re dead now.”





Did you miss Chapters 1-158 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 160.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 159

Mr. Punch found himself, once again, in the lavishly appointed room deep inside the body he shared with Julian. This time, the room was aglow in bronze-colored silks and glittering gilding. A fireplace sparkled against one wall. Punch didn’t recall there being a fireplace in that phantom room and he stared at it for a moment before noticing his master sitting in a wing-back chair next to the hearth.


“It’s warmer this time, eh, Mr. Punch?” Julian smiled.

“Coo.” Mr. Punch nodded. “It is. Almost hot. Where’d that come from?”

“I’m not quite sure.” Julian shrugged. “I think perhaps we’ve got a touch of a fever. I’ve noticed—while you’ve been out living in the world—that this ‘room’ changes given our surroundings outside.”

“So, this is where you stay all day?”

“And, all night.” Julian nodded. “Sit…” He pointed to a chair opposite himself—a chair that Punch hadn’t noticed before.

“If I’m in here with you,” Punch began, “who’s takin’ care of things for us out there?”

“No one.” Julian shrugged again. “Well, to be fair, I think Robert’s looking after us.”

“I was just out there,” Mr. Punch squinted. “How’d I get back in here with you?”

“Mr. Punch,” Julian said softly, “I’m no physician, but I suspect there’s something of a complication with our body. You know, being shot isn’t really the healthiest thing for a body.”

Mr. Punch nodded.

Julian continued. “I’ve been thinking this over, and I’m fairly certain we’re having a bit of difficulty breathing. That’s why you’re in here with me. Neither of us presently has the strength to be ‘out.’”

“I see.” Mr. Punch nodded again though he didn’t really quite understand.

“Besides, it gives us a chance to finish the chat we started. Isn’t it funny? We’re both parts of the same whole, yet we spend so little time together. No doubt it’s because you’re busy living my life for me. I’m quite grateful for that, you know. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Remember when you was a little man?” Mr. Punch sighed. “When you was small and a child and such? We used to talk all the time, then. When I was a puppet and you were a boy.”

“It’s interesting how it’s turned out.” Julian replied. “Now, I’m more of a puppet than you are, and you’re more of a boy.”

Punch grunted. “Here, are we ever gonna get a chance to rest?”

“You’re resting right now.” Julian laughed.

“No, I don’t think so.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “I think somethin’ bad’s happenin’ out there. This ain’t restin’. I mean a real rest—like a holiday. How many weeks have we been here in this strange country? Ever since we got here, there’s been nothin’ but trouble. Gettin’ burned, gettin’ shot, runnin’ ‘round chasin’ cruel people, dealin’ with terrible tragedies…”

“It has been rather…busy.”

“How much can one body stand?” Mr. Punch sighed.

“I suppose we’ll find out.” Julian grinned.

“You seem happy in here, master.” Mr. Punch tilted his head to one side.

“Selfishly, I suppose I am.” Julian nodded. “You know, it’s what I always desired—a chance to be alone, to be safe, to be quiet, to not have to deal with anything. You’ve given me that. The only tragedy in it is that you’ve had to live through these ordeals for me.”

“I don’t mind,” Mr. Punch smiled. “It’s why I’m here.”

“There should come a point, dear other-half, when you get what you desire, too.”

“I ‘spose.” Punch sighed.

“What is it that you desire, Mr. Punch?” Julian asked.

“Well, I don’t rightly know.” Mr. Punch grunted. “I got things what I like. I like feelin’ the warmth of the dog next to me—all furry and soft and innocent. I like playin’ with the baby. I like to eat! Coo! That’s a lark! I like feelin’ the sunshine on me human face.” He paused.

“What else?”

“I like bein’ with people. I know you don’t, but I like it. Adrienne’s sweet and she smells like biscuits. Cecil’s funny, he is. He says things what would be shocking to other folk, but what I find humorous. Marjani and Naasir are kind to us and make us think ‘bout things, we’d not considered before. And, Robert…”

“What about Robert?”

“Well, I think I like him best of all.” Mr. Punch said. “He don’t talk so well. Too caught up in what he’s thinkin’ to be able to say it proper. But, he’s loyal, and he’s steady, and he’s brave. And, what’s more, I think he understands what we’re thinkin’ even if we don’t talk much ourselves.”

“That’s what a friend does,” Julian smiled.

“Not used to it.” Mr. Punch chuckled.

“Nor am I.” Julian laughed.

“When all this is over,” Mr. Punch began, “Can we go back to England?”

“That’s been the plan all along.” Julian nodded. “After all, I am the Duke of Fallbridge. I have duties.”

“Do we have to go back to Fallbridge Hall?”

“Well, yes,” Julian said. “That’s our home. And, now that Mother and Father are gone, I…well, it’s my responsibility.”

“I like the house in Belgrave Square better. Ain’t nothin’ to remind me of bad things there.”

“What bad things?” Julian asked.

“Nothin’.” Mr. Punch shrugged.

“Isn’t it time that we finish that conversation, Mr. Punch?” Julian smiled.

“I wonder if we’re breathin’ better.” Mr. Punch said absently. “It’s gettin’ hotter in here.”

“Changing the subject won’t distract me, Punch.” Julian grinned. “Remember, I know all of your tricks. You learned them from me, after all. This is important…”

“Breathin’ is important, too.” Mr. Punch frowned.

“A body needs many things in order to survive,” Julian said firmly. “Not the least of which is peace of mind.”

Mr. Punch stood up and paced in front of the fireplace. “Ain’t it hot in here? Do you feel strange?”

Meanwhile, outside of Julian’s body, Robert wiped the sweat from his friend’s brow.

Cecil and Adrienne had taken Fuller out of the room as Robert tried to make Julian more comfortable. Robert had explained that fluid had collected in Julian’s lungs and that he feared infection. Seeing that Julian had become feverish troubled Robert. He was, however, relieved when Marjani entered the room.

“I come back as quick as I could,” Marjani said softly. “How is he?”

“Not well.” Robert replied.

“I’m awful sorry to hear that.” Marjani said.

“I can’t get a response from him.” Robert mumbled. “From either of them. Yet, his lips are moving as if he’s speaking. You don’t suppose they’re talking to each other—the two of them, Julian and Punch? I don’t know. I wish I understood better what goes on in his mind—or minds. If there are two minds in there.” He shook his head.

“Who’s to say ‘xactly what anyone thinks?” Marjani gently placed her hand on Robert’s shoulder.

“You.” Robert smiled weakly. “You seem to know what people think. Thank you for saving him. He said you carried him to the cathedral.”

“I did.” Marjani nodded.

“Where’d you go?” Robert asked.

“Back to see Iolanthe Evangeline.” Marjani answered.

“Why?” Robert asked, wide-eyed.

“Jus’ somethin’ I had to do.” Marjani shrugged.

“She didn’t harm you, did she?”

“No.” Marjani chuckled. “It’ll take more than that witch to hurt me. Right now, let’s just think about His Grace. You know, Dr. Halifax, we got a worry we’ve not talked about.”

“I know.” Robert sighed.

“The city is thick with Yellow Jack.”

“I know,” Robert repeated.

“If His Grace is this weak…” Marjani began.

“You don’t have to say it.” Robert whispered.

“But, it’s something we got to think ‘bout.” Marjani said firmly. “I done already lost my babies to it, Doctor. We can’t lose this man, too.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-158? If so, you can read them here.