Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 183

Chapter 183
Wishing 

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” Punch muttered frantically, wringing his hands.

“That bastard!” Charles grunted furiously. “He tricked us!”

“You said he was deceased!” Robert snapped.

“He was. I swear it!” Charles shouted. “I…I felt his chest. I looked for any sign of life in the man.”

“Well, now he’s got our Gamilla.” Mr. Punch growled.

“Maybe not.” Robert sighed.

“They ain’t here.” Mr. Punch said softly.

“Perhaps Gamilla took him somewhere to try to help him.” Robert suggested.

“How?” Charles shook his head. “She isn’t strong enough to carry him out.”

“Coulda dragged him.” Punch said hopefully. “But, that don’t ‘xplain the bits of rope.”

Robert rubbed his temple with his index finger. “It’s just wishful thinking on my part, I’m afraid. No doubt he overpowered her. She probably loosened his binds, thinking he was dead.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far.” Charles said. “If we hurry…”

“Wait!” Punch chirped, walking toward the stone slab which separated the floor of the silver vault from the passage and steps. “There’s this white powder.”

“The flour.” Charles replied.

“Looks like there’s a trail of it.” Mr. Punch spoke up hopefully.

“Come on, men.” Robert nodded. “Let’s follow it.”

At that very moment, Gamilla stood outside of Grange Molliner. With one hand, she held onto the ornate wooden arbor in the courtyard, in her other hand, she held Finlay’s hair.

“I’m sorry, Gamilla.” Finlay yowled.

“You done made a big mistake, Finlay Donnan.” Gamilla screamed, tightening her grip on the back of Finlay’s head.

“I…I…I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t ya?” Gamilla shouted. “Playin’ ‘possum like ya done. Makin’ us think you was dead. Even makin’ me pity ya. Then, when your ties is loosened, you try for to bolt. You’re the worst kind of person, Finlay. And that magic inside ya knows it.”

“I was ill, truly. You did it to me.”

“You done it to yourself,” Gamilla growled.

“I…I know.” Finlay squealed as Gamilla wrenched his head backward.

“You can’t escape this, Finlay.” Gamilla added.

“Maybe I can.” Finlay sputtered.

“How?” Gamilla spat. “You can’t see. You can barely hear. You’re weak. You’re filled with pain. What can you do, Finlay?”

“I can put a stop to all of this!” Finlay howled.

“How?” Gamilla demanded again. “Only way to move ahead, Finlay Donnan, is to answer the questions what done tear ya apart.”

“Or…” Finlay grinned, pulling forward. He screamed as he left a clump of his hair behind in Gamilla’s hand.

Again, he took off running.

“Where you goin’?” Gamilla shouted, running after him.

“To put a stop to all of this!”

“Finlay! You’re runnin’ toward the well! Watch yourself!”

“I know.” Finlay gurgled.

“Stop!” Gamilla shouted. “Stop right now! This ain’t the way! You’ll be killed!”

Finlay stumbled as his shins struck the low stone wall which surrounded the deep well at the end of the courtyard.

“Forgive me!” Finlay shouted as he tipped forward.

“No!” Gamilla screamed as she watched Finlay plunge into the darkness of the well.



Did you miss Chapters 1-182 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 184.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 183

Barbara Allen sat down on a bench in Jackson Square and took a bite from a warm beignet, being careful not to get powdered sugar on her dark blue dress.


“You’re hungry.” Charles laughed.

“Terribly sorry,” Barbara looked up, embarrassed. “My mother would have had apoplexy if she saw me being so greedy. I was taught to pick at my food. But, yes, I am hungry. I’m not ashamed of it. Food is in short supply these days. It’s a far cry from the groaning sideboards at Fallbridge Hall.”

“Eat up,” Charles winked. “I like to see a girl with a healthy appetite.”

“Good to know,” Barbara grinned before taking another bite of the fried pastry that Charles had bought for her on their walk.

“Here,” Charles said, sitting down next to her. “Take mine, too.”

“Are you sure?” Barbara asked. “You must be hungry, too. When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Don’t worry about me, Miss Allen,” Charles shook his head. “I had breakfast. Besides, I’m not very hungry. I’m too excited.”

“You’re happy, then? You’re pleased to have the position with my brother?”

“Quite.” Charles said. “His Grace and his companion have afforded me a far more interesting life than I thought I’d have.”

“It will be interesting. I’ll give you that.” Barbara nodded.

“He’s a shrewd fellow, your brother—if not a bit strange.”

Barbara nodded. “Even in the grips of his lunacy, he’s still quite sharp.”

“I don’t think he’s a lunatic.” Charles shook his head. “A lunatic isn’t aware that he’s ill. Your bother seems quite aware that he’s different and seems to have embraced it. He makes no apologies for it, but he also doesn’t try to hide it.”

“Who were you dealing with?” Barbara asked. “Was he acting as a Duke should or was he affecting the rough voice and mannerisms of this persona they call ‘Mr. Punch.’”

“I don’t believe that is an affectation.” Charles sighed. “He is Mr. Punch. He’s also the Duke of Fallbridge. My conversations were with the one who calls himself Mr. Punch. I found him to be quite fair and pleasant. And very alert and observant. Whoever he is, he’s a kind and just man. I can’t help but like him.”

“And, that’s the trouble. He’s very likeable. Looking back at my life—my girlhood at the Hall—I think I grew up with Mr. Punch. I think he has all of the finest parts of Julian without any of the fear.” She began eating the other beignet. “Thank you for this. Charles, I do hope that this turns out to be a good experience for you.”

“I believe you mean that.” Charles said.

“I do.”

“I don’t think you’re the inherently wicked girl that your brother’s companion and his family have painted you as being.” Charles sighed.

Barbara sputtered a little bit, swallowing her beignet.

“I hope that doesn’t offend you.” Charles added.

“No.” Barbara shook her head. “I know what they think of me. And, in many ways, they’re not mistaken.”

“You know, you still haven’t answered my question.” Charles smiled. “You’ve done a very good job of avoiding it, in fact. So, don’t you think it’s time you are completely honest with me?”

“You want to know why I recommended that you inquire about the valet position with my brother.”

“I actually do believe that you wanted to see that your brother was looked after properly, and I suspect you’re sincere that you thought the position would be good for me, but I can’t help but think…”

“That I have some other reason. Some motive.” Barbara nodded. “I don’t blame you for thinking that. And, frankly, you’re correct. I did have another motive, but I don’t know what it is. You see, Marie Laveau suggested that I tell you about the position.”

“I thought as much.” Charles nodded. “But, what could she want from me?”

“For some reason, she wished to remove you from your present post. I’m to further insinuate myself into the life of Miss Harelda.”

“She’s after Dr. Odil, isn’t she?” Charles nodded.

“There’s some connection to Iolanthe Evangeline.” Barbara replied.

“Oh yes,” Charles nodded, chuckling. “I should say so.” He paused, looking up distractedly.

“What is it?” Barbara asked.

“Speak of the Devil.” Charles pointed forward with his chin.

Barbara brushed the powdered sugar from her hands and looked up to see Iolanthe Evangeline leading a red-headed woman toward the dock.

“Do you know that ginger woman?” Charles asked.

“Yes. I do.” Barbara answered softly. “It’s Ulrika Rittenhouse. I used to work for her.”

“Whatever is she doing with The Elegant Ogress?” Charles asked.

“Nothing good, I can assure you.”

“Do you think she’s in trouble?” Charles said.

“Most likely.” Barbara sighed.

“Shouldn’t we help her?” Charles wondered.

Meanwhile, at their borrowed house on Royal Street, Robert closed the door to Julian’s room.

“Can I give you something to help you relax?” Robert asked.

“No, Chum.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “I don’t want nothin’ that’ll weaken our thinkin’.”

“Fair enough.” Robert said. “How? Well, I mean…can you simply retreat into yourselves and commune with Julian?”

“I ‘spect so.” Punch nodded.

“Where is he now?” Robert wondered.

“There’s a room—not a room really, but a place inside us—that’s where me master stays. I was in there with him. I can’t describe it.”

“I think I understand.” Robert nodded. “Is he in there now?”

“Yes.” Mr. Punch said. “He’s waitin’ for me. He has been.”

“Has he got the key?” Robert asked.

“He does.” Punch sighed.

“Are you ready for this?”

“No.” Mr. Punch grumbled. “But, it ain’t my place to be ready. I think Julian’s ready. And, he’s the master.”

“I won’t leave your side.” Robert replied gently.

“I know.” Mr. Punch said nervously.

“You’re doing the right thing.” Robert smiled.

“Then why does it feel so terrible bad?”

“Sometimes the right thing often does.” Robert responded.



Did you miss Chapters 1-182? If so, you can read them here.