Barbara Allen clutched her baby to her breast as she ran. She worried that the child would not have enough air. She’d covered him with her cloak so he’d not be noticed as she hurried, panting, through the streets of New Orleans. Her heart raced and she was gripped in panic, but couldn’t help feel a bit proud of herself for what she considered her extreme bravery. Creeping out of the attic cupboard and down the back stairs while Edward Cage screamed and bellowed—just inches away from her—was a courageous, if not foolish, decision.
“Not much longer, Colin,” Barbara cooed softly to the hidden child. She could feel the baby squirming in her arms—most likely confused and wondering why he’d been ripped away from a warm and comfortable house, not once, but twice in the same day.
When she reached Marie Laveau’s house, she approached it cautiously. She knew that at that time of the evening, Marie was out paying calls to the wealthy women in the Garden District. She just hoped that the other occupants of the house—Marie’s so-called family—were otherwise occupied with one of their strange endeavors.
Barbara slipped cautiously into the rear of the dirty building and was relieved to find the house quiet and empty. She quickly made her way up to the corner she’d been assigned and grabbed her satchel. Gently placing the baby on the mattress, she hoped it would not begin to cry and attract attention to them. Thankfully, the baby gurgled softly, just happy not to be bouncing around in the cold air.
From her satchel, Barbara withdrew the blonde wig she’d worn when she first went to Marionneaux as Ulrika Rittenhouse’s maid. Without aid of a mirror, she arranged the wig on her head, using her fingers to feel around her hairline, hopefully ensuring that her own dark tresses were decently contained.
“I will return,” She whispered to the baby.
Slipping into the corridor, she peered around a corner and looked into Marie’s room to make sure that it was empty. As quickly as she could, she snatched a brightly-colored shawl, dripping with silk fringe, from Marie’s bed and threw it across her shoulders.
“This will have to do,” She muttered, hurrying back to her child. Placing the handle of her satchel on the crook of her arm, she lifted the child and, again, covered him with her cloak. The baby protested by kicking at her, but he soon quieted down.
“We’re off, then,” Barbara mumbled. “Jackson Square. Oh, I do hope he comes…”
With that, Barbara rushed from Marie’s house.
Little did she know that Marie Laveau saw her flee down the street—her stolen shawl fluttering the evening wind.
“What’s that girl up to now?” Marie grinned as she followed.
Meanwhile, Robert and Cecil were searching the attic with Marjani and Charles while Adrienne, Meridian and Mr. Punch remained in the nursery.
“There’s not a trace of her.” Robert grumbled.
“Brazen thing—to sneak out with Edward and Ulrika ranting in the next room.” Cecil spat.
“Charles, can you imagine where she’s gone?” Robert asked.
“I’d guess that she’s on her way to the docks, Sir.” Charles answered.
“Why would she do this?” Cecil grunted. “We had everything all nicely sorted out.”
“Sure she panicked, Sir. She’s not thinking too clearly.” Charles said softly.
“I should say not.” Cecil sighed. “We’d best go tell Mr. Punch and Adrienne.”
When the men entered the nursery, Mr. Punch stood quickly, losing his balance slightly as he did. He gripped the back of a chair to steady himself.
“Well?” He croaked.
“She’s escaped.” Robert replied gently.
“Perhaps it’s for the best.” Adrienne said reassuringly.
“It ain’t no such thing!” Mr. Punch answered. “If you’ll pardon me bein’ objectionable.”
“I understand, dear Punch.” Adrienne replied.
“Listen, Chums, I ain’t lettin’ Barbara have that child. I won’t let her do to him what she done to herself, I won’t.”
“What can we do?” Cecil asked. “She clearly wants to be independent.”
“Don’t care what she wants,” Mr. Punch said firmly. We’re gonna find her.”
“Mr. Punch, you can’t leave the house. You’re still recovering.” Robert said pleadingly.
“Maybe I can. Maybe I can’t. But, Charles certainly can!” Mr. Punch said.
“Me, Sir?” Charles asked.
“She trusts you.” Mr. Punch nodded. “Now, go and find her.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-201? If so, you can read them here.
