Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 192

Chapter 192
Sweet Dreams 


“Roger,” Mr. Punch said softly as he and Robert were ushered by the man’s caregiver into a darkened, musty room. “Remember me?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Who am I, then?” Punch asked.

“You’re Victor Geddes.” Roger replied fiercely.

“No.” Punch shook his head.

“Yes, you are.” Roger growled.

“Victor Geddes is now called the Baron Lensdown. I’m not he. I’ve seen him just days ago. He’s a bad man. I know why you hate him.” Punch answered gently.

“Do you?”

“I certainly do.” Punch replied.

“Why do I hate him?”

“He hurt ya, he did.” Punch nodded. “I remember for I were there. See? I’m…well, you’re looking at the Duke of Fallbridge. Remember me from Scotland when we was boys? I lived in the Grange Molliner.”

“You’re Lord Fallbridge?”

“I was called that then, yes.”

“You’re the thin one with the pale face and sad eyes. The boy with the dark ginger hair.”

“I am. I was.”

“You saw us on the turret.” Roger continued.

“I did. I saw what he done to ya. I saw him push ya. I’m dreadful sorry he done it. But, you don’t gotta fear ‘im no more. See, he can’t come to ya here. He won’t hurt ya ‘gain.”

“He hurt my sister, Ellen. She let him.”

Robert and Punch looked quickly at one another.

“What’s that look?” Roger asked. “What do you know?”

“The baron isn’t gonna hurt no one again. And, Ellen is just fine.” Punch replied.

“Mr. Barrett,” Robert spoke up. “We’ve brought someone to see you. Would you like to have a visitor?”

“You’re visitors.” Roger shrugged.

“Other than us.” Robert nodded.

“Who is it?”

“You tell us,” Mr. Punch smiled. He opened the door to the parlor of the small flat which Roger shared with his caregiver. Nodding at Lennie, Punch turned to Roger as she walked into the dim chamber. He studied the man’s face for any signs of recognition.

“Roger,” Lennie began, choking back her emotions.

“Who’s this, then?” Roger squinted.

“Don’t ya know her?” Punch asked.

Roger’s eyes widened. “Is it Ellen?”

“Yes.” Lennie nodded.

“You look different again.” The man grumbled. “You always look different.”

“I know.” Lennie sniffed. “But, I won’t look different anymore. I will always look like this.”

“Your voice is even different than it’s been. Softer, nicer. Like it was before.”

“And it shall remain so.”

“You’re really Ellen?”

“I am.” Lennie answered. “Only I’m called by an affectionate name these days—‘Lennie.’”

“Why is that?”

“So you’ll always know that it’s me. Your friend. You’ll never have to wonder again.” Lennie replied.

“My friend?” Roger narrowed his eyes. “You’re more than that. You’re my sister.”

Lennie wrung her hands uncomfortably. “I will always be your sister in some way.”

“Lennie.” Roger smiled. “I like the name. Lennie Barrett.”

“Not Barrett.” Lennie said quickly.

“No?” Roger tilted his head to one side. “Did you marry? Is this your husband?” He pointed to Robert.

“No. That’s Dr. Halifax. You know him. He’s also your friend.”

“You married him?” Roger pointed to Punch.

“Not hardly,” Punch chuckled.

“What’s funny?” Roger grunted.

“Nothin’ at all, Mr. Barrett.” Mr. Punch said softly.

“So, if you’re not married why is your name not Barrett?”

“As you say, I’m different again. I want to have a name that will suit me, a name that will last, a name that will ensure you always know that I’m here to be your friend and to be your sister.” Lennie explained somewhat awkwardly.

“What name is that?” Roger asked cautiously.

“I don’t know.” Lennie shook her head. “I haven’t decided.”

“Perhaps,” Punch suggested, “you could call yourself Molliner? I know that you’re not a Molliner, but we can’t call you Fallbridge considering…” Punch trailed off.

“Molliner is your name.” Roger squinted at Punch.

“Yes,” Punch nodded. “That’s my surname as it was my father’s--though since I’m a Duke no one uses it.”

“I think that’s a sensible solution.” Robert smiled.

Lennie sighed thoughtfully.

“What do you think?” Mr. Punch asked Lennie.

“I’d be honored to call myself Lennie Molliner.” Lennie smiled finally.

“That makes you related to the Duke.” Roger frowned.

“Well, as it turns out,” Lennie said slowly. “I am related to the Duke.”

“Oh,” Roger nodded. “Then, it makes sense.”

“I’d like your approval, Roger.” Lennie smiled. “Before I decide finally.”

“You want my approval?”

“Certainly. With Father gone, now, you’re the closest male of the family I’ve ever known. Your brothers have gone off on their own. Only you remain for me here. Your approval is very important to me.”

“No one ever wanted my approval for anything before.” Roger’s eyes widened.

“Well, I do.”

“I approve, then.” Roger nodded.

“Thank you,” Lennie smiled.

“I’m tired now.” Roger shrugged.

“We’ll leave you to rest.” Dr. Halifax said gently.

“Will you come back?”

“Do you want me to?” Lennie asked.

“Very much.” Roger said sleepily. “Not just you, but the two blokes. The one’s amusing and the other makes me feel safe.”

“We’d be very happy to visit you.” Robert nodded.

“Later tonight?”

“Perhaps tomorrow before tea.” Mr. Punch answered.

“That’d be fine.” Roger agreed. He paused. “I know you.” He pointed to Punch.

“Yes, I’m the Duke of Fallbridge.”

“No.” Roger shook his head. “I mean…yes, you look like him, but, you’re someone else.”

“I am.” Punch smiled.

“You gotta baby and a dog.”

“I do.”

“They’re nice to you. They love you. People love you.”

“Thankfully, they do.” Mr. Punch replied.

“I wish people would love me.”

“I love you, Roger.” Lennie touched the man’s shoulder.

“Oh. How nice for me, then.”

“Goodbye for now, Mr. Barrett.” Robert began.

“Wait!” Roger snapped.

“Yes?” Robert asked.

“I know who the other one is—the strange one.”

“He’s the Duke of Fallbridge. He’s a jeweler for Her Majesty. He’s my companion. He’s the father of a boy called Colin. He’s your friend.”

“Yes…yes and no. He’s those things, yes. But, someone else.”

“We just spoke of that.” Robert interrupted.

“I know that!” Roger growled. “I’m not daft. I remember. He’s someone else.”

“Who am I?” Mr. Punch asked.

“You’re Old Red Nose. I can see it in you. Where’s your hunchback?”

Punch was startled by this. “I…I don’t have it anymore.”

“That must be easier for you.” Roger nodded.

“It is.” Punch replied.

“Maybe that’s why the baby likes you.”

“Must be.” Punch smiled.

“Good for you, then.” Roger sighed. “Now, I must sleep. Go away.”

“Good night,” Lennie whispered as Roger curled up in a ball on the floor. “Dream sweet dreams.”

“I never do.” Roger muttered.

“Perhaps tonight you will.” Lennie said as she walked away with tears in her eyes.



Did you miss Chapters 1-191 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 193.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 192

Barbara Allen brushed past Charles as she ran through the entrance hall of her brother’s borrowed house on Royal Street.


“Miss Allen,” Charles said in an urgent, hushed voice.

“I cannot…” Barbara shook her head, pausing for only a moment. “Not now. Meet me this evening, if you can, at our usual spot in Jackson Square.”

“I will try.” Charles nodded.

With that, Barbara hurried out of the house before the tears began to spill from her eyes. Once outside, she sobbed openly as she walked. Her feet led her further down Royal Street and she soon found herself at the rear entrance of Edward Cage’s towering mansion.

She knocked on the door and was greeted by a yellow-eyed man of small stature and a bristling disposition.

“Whatchoo want?” The man croaked.

“I’d like to see Miss Rittenhouse.”

“Folk always comin’ to the back door to see Miss Rittenhouse.” The man frowned. “Ain’t she got no high-tone friends who might use the front door like regular white folk?”

“Please,” Barbara Allen pleaded.

“Why should I?”

“What’s your name?” Barbara asked.

“Odo.” The man grinned sourly. “They call me Ty Odo.”

“Odo,” Barbara began. “I come in peace. Miss Rittenhouse and I have a shared interest in something. Someone’s life hangs in the balance. It’s imperative that I see her.”

“Fine, come in.” Odo said. “I can’t let ya go in the main house ‘til I talk with Miss Rittenhouse. You’re gonna have to wait here.”

“I will.” Barbara said. “Thank you.”

“Fine, fine.” Odo grunted as he slipped up the back staircase.

Barbara sat in the austere kitchen and wiped her eyes. She was startled by a piercing, yet, strangely warm sound which she immediately recognized. Her heart broke when she heard the baby crying. She turned to see a young black woman coming down the stairs, carrying a pink-faced baby.

“Now, now, Master Holt, I’m gonna get your supper. Don’t you go on fussin’ like that.” The girl cooed to the baby.

She stopped when she spotted Barbara in the kitchen.

“Terrible sorry, Miss.” The girl said. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“I…” Barbara shook her head, staring at the infant—her own child.

The baby spotted Barbara and extended his arms to her as he wriggled away from the girl who carried him.

“Oh, he likes you.” The girl smiled.

“Yes.” Barbara sniffed.

“You want to hold him while I get his supper?”

Barbara was silent for a moment.

“Miss?”

“Yes,” Barbara said eagerly. “I’d like to hold him. Very much—please.”

Meanwhile, at Dr. Biamenti’s house, Charles walked slowly into Julian’s room, led by Robert.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Charles said politely. “Dr. Halifax said that you wished to see me.”

“I do.” Julian smiled. “To begin with, allow me, please, to introduce myself.”

“We’ve already met, Your Grace.” Charles smiled.

“You know quite well that we’ve not. You have been introduced to be other half—Mr. Punch. I am Julian, Duke of Fallbridge. You are aware by now, of course, that I am two men.”

“Yes, Sir.” Charles answered.

“You have no issue with this?” Julian asked.

“Of course not, Your Grace.” Charles answered.

“Is that, perhaps, because you are aware that all men have many different personalities—one way or another. Some even have different names.”

“Yes.” Charles nodded cautiously.

“I overheard you tell Mr. Punch that your real name is Carlo Iantosca.” Julian continued.

“That’s correct.” Charles blushed. “I hope that won’t be a problem. I’m quite honest, Sir. I am loyal and good at my job.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Julian responded. “Since you are so honest, Charles, allow me to ask you a question. I have an acquaintance—a rather unpleasant fellow. He’s an artist to whom I was introduced in London while I was living in Belgrave Square. A sculptor, I believe. One evening, I happened upon him in Covent Garden. He was intoxicated and typically belligerent. He pleaded with me to purchase some of his sculptures. He claimed that he needed funds quickly because he was searching for his brother who’d gone missing. I must confess that I was not especially interested in what he had to say. You see, I dislike being out in public, especially alone, and all I could think about was returning to the safety of my home. I wished him well, and went on my way without being especially helpful. The man was always so unpleasant, so I was not moved by his pleas. I didn’t think much of it, I’m afraid. You see, I was attacked and robbed that night. I hadn’t even thought of the man until now.”

“I’m sorry to hear of your attack, Sir.” Charles interrupted.

“Thank you,” Julian nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that your brother was so distraught by your absence.”

“My brother, Your Grace?”

“Giovanni Iantosca.” Julian said firmly. “The sculptor. He is your brother, isn’t he?”

Charles blushed.

“Charles?” Robert asked. “His Grace asked you a question.”

“Yes, Gentlemen.” Charles nodded. “My brother is Giovanni Iantosca. Yes, I am fleeing from him.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-191? If so, you can read them here.