Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 221

Chapter 221 

Needing a Place 



“Do you require something, My Lady?” Charles asked from his spot beneath the sweeping staircase. He’d spied Lady Constance from his station in the foyer of the grand townhouse. Instructed by the Duke of Fallbridge to keep watch in case Lady Constance tried to leave the house, Charles was not shocked when he heard her dainty footsteps from three floors above him.

“Who said that?” Constance grumbled, leaning over the banister.

“It is I, Your Ladyship, Charles.”

“Ah, the footman.” Constance muttered as she descended the stairs. “Spying, are you?”

“Not exactly,” Charles smiled politely. “His Grace asked if I would keep watch tonight.”

“For what? Desperate ladies?”

“No, My Lady.” Charles shook his head. “Simply because, as I understand it, there are forces outside of the house who wish harm upon its occupants, both permanent and visiting.”

“The Duke told you I might try to go out on my own.” Constance sighed.

“He suggested that you might.”

“Do you know what it’s like?” Constance asked.

“My Lady?”

“Knowing your own child is out there somewhere, in the grip of someone who is, at her best, demented?”

“No, not personally. However, I once had a friend who was the mother of a child. She fretted that she had not made the best decisions for her son and feared that she’d put him in the hands of someone who might, ultimately, do him harm. I helped her as best I could, and, in the end, she did her part to liberate that child. I know such a venture can be grueling, but, that it also takes time.”

“Lady Fallbridge? The Duke’s ‘dead’ sister. You and she…”

Charles’ eyes widened in shock.

“Don’t look so surprised, Charles.” Lady Constance shook her head. “London is a large city and a very small town.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“So, this man who had the boy…he was bad?”

“Yes.” Charles nodded.

“Bad enough that Barbara would have preferred him to be raised by…two such different men.”

“It’s my masters’ differences which make them so magnanimous. They have suffered for their differences and, therefore, have the greatest compassion for all.”

“You’re very loyal.” Constance smiled. “I didn’t mean to impugn the names of your masters. I’m rather fond of them.” She leaned against the gilt newel post. “Did you know…no, of course you didn’t. My mother had a scheme. She insisted that I should give Fern—that’s my daughter—to His Grace and his companion. She absolutely loathed them both. You see, that’s the rub, Charles. She hated them. Utter contempt and damnation. However, she hated Fern more. And, me.” She shook her head. “She thought it best to give her own granddaughter to two men she loathed than to keep her…”

“Is that why you killed your mother?” Charles asked bravely.

“In part.” Constance nodded. She grinned. “I can’t believe that I told you that—you, a footman.”

“I shan’t say a word, My Lady.” Charles replied. “Nor, shall I judge you.”

“I believe that you won’t. You’ve kind eyes. I trust you. I imagine that it’s your lack of condemnation which caused His Grace to take you on?”

“No.” Charles smiled. “The Duke took me on, despite the doctor’s protestations, because I needed a place. I’d been estranged from my family. I couldn’t return to Italy. No familyin New Orleans would take me after I’d betrayed my mistress. I had nowhere to go. I needed a place—there was nothing. His Grace took pity on me even though I had been quite unkind to him previously. Terribly unkind. You see, My Lady, I had been known to condemn, and condemn I did. The Duke showed me that such behavior was only going to condemn me in the end.”

“Interesting.” Lady Constance replied softly, looking into Charles’ eyes. “I can see what Lady Barbara saw in you.”

“She was not Lady Barbara when I knew her.” Charles answered quietly.

“Barbara and I were often together when the Duchess came to London. Barbara never cared for me much. She thought I was plain and looked down on me for it.”

Charles was silent.

“Do you think that I’m plain, Charles?”

“No, Lady Constance, I do not.”

“I find you very handsome, Charles.” Constance smiled slightly. “If I’m doomed to stay in this evening, perhaps…perhaps I can find a way to amuse myself.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-220 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 222.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 221

Mr. Punch frowned, “Coo! I’m getting’ a wee bit worried, I am. Where’s Marjani?”


“I don’t know,” Robert grunted. “She should have been here by now. You don’t suppose Edward Cage has delayed her?”

“Must have done.” Punch shook his head. “I don’t see why he won’t leave us alone.”

“Well, to be fair, we do have his son.” Robert shrugged.

“No.” Mr. Punch answered quickly. “We got our son. He’s got Molliner blood in his veins, he does. Ain’t no part of him a Cage.”

“I don’t think that Edward would agree with you.” Robert rose and walked to the window of the dusty hotel room.

“Here, what’s he want with Colin anyway?” Mr. Punch scowled.

“He wants a son.” Robert sighed.

“He’s already got a son—that slick, little Orman. Remember? The boy what was throwing stones at them nice birds?”

“I remember.” Robert shuddered. “An awful child, that one. Perhaps that’s why he wants another son, one that isn’t clearly demented.”

“Well, he can’t have this one.” Punch snorted.

“It’s not our place to decide what anyone’s motives are. As long as we understand our own, we’re in good standing.”

“I know me own motives, I do.” Punch said. “I even know me master’s--mostly. But, I don’t know yours. You never did answer my question, Chum.”

“Didn’t I?” Robert turned around, smiling.

“Not really. You just gave some vague answer like what you always do.”

“Don’t you trust me, dear Punch?” Robert asked.

“’Course I do!” Punch replied. “I trust you with me life and with the life of my nephew and me dog. Even me puppet! You’re me chum and I love you. But, I worry that perhaps you put yourself in a rough place and that you might…what’s the word?”

“Regret it?”

“That’s it.” Mr. Punch nodded.

“I don’t regret anything. I’d not trade my time with you for anything in the world. You know how I feel about you. And, about Julian.”

“I do.” Punch answered. “But, I don’t understand why you keep putting yourself in danger for us. Anyone else would walk away, they would.”

“True.” Robert chuckled. “But, I’m not anyone else.”

“Right.” Punch said softly.

“Listen to me, dear Punch,” Robert began. “When we met on the ship, I remembered you from your visit to my practice. I know who you were, and I was curious as to why a nobleman behaved as you do when you’re Mr. Punch. Yes, I confess, there was a bit of scientific curiosity to my initial interest in you. I wanted to help you. As a doctor, I wanted to help. But, also as a man. You see, I was never able to help my mother. The way she suffered and the way she died, well, I’ve always blamed myself for not being more helpful, for not saving her somehow.”

“But, you were just a boy.”

“Nevertheless, I’ve always felt as though I could have saved her. So, that’s why I followed in the family path of being a physician. I vowed I’d help people in a way that I couldn’t provide to my own mother. When I declared that I was your champion, that was what motivated me. But, then I got to know you—both of you. I realized that what my life was lacking was your companionship. And, then, selfishly—I admit—I decided to stay by your side. You give me so much, Mr. Punch, your loyalty, your bravery, your cleverness, you wildness, your devotion and affection. And from Julian, I have learned an elegance and dignity that I never knew before.”

“Coo.” Mr. Punch puffed.

“You seem to think that you’re some kind of burden on me. But, you’re not. This is what you do when you feel affection for someone. The good far outweighs the bad. I made a promise to you, and I aim to keep it. We’re a team, you and I. To walk away now would mean the death of me. I would be empty. Dear Punch, your devotion has saved my life. The least I can do is help you with yours.”

“Here,” Mr. Punch muttered. “You don’t talk much, but when you do, you say a lot.”

“Those of us who are quiet often have the most to say.” Robert smiled.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Mr. Punch laughed. “I ain’t quiet. Am I? I say a lot, but I don’t say nothin’ much at all.”

“You say more than you realize,” Robert winked.

A knock on the door interrupted them. It was Marjani’s knock, in the pattern that they’d agreed upon.

“Finally!” Robert said, rushing to the door, and being careful to walk quietly past the baby who was sleeping.

Robert flung open the door and his shoulders sagged.

“Did I get the knock right?” Iolanthe grinned.

“I remembered the little signal your girl used when she came yesterday.” Ulrika added.

“Good to see that you’re both still here.” Iolanthe growled, sashaying into the room. “I’d hate to think what I’d have done if you’d have tried to flee.”

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Ulrika said with false respect.

“Ginger sow.” Mr. Punch nodded.

“Oh, someone’s feisty this morning.” Ulrika cooed.

“We’ve come for our payment,” Iolanthe interrupted. “I do hope you’re prepared.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-220? If so, you can read them here.