A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 25

Chapter 25:
Gotta Get Out Sometime


Robert yelped a bit as he lowered himself into the bath.  "Hot."

"Baths at Fallbridge Hall are always hot."  Punch sighed, recalling the baths he/Julian had taken as a child.  "Mother made sure of it.  She had the tubs specially made to keep the water as boilin' as possible, like a kettle.  I think there's some sort ' metal core under the porcelain what keeps the water hot.  I'm sure Charlie didn't know, when he brought the water in, that it'd 'ave stayed as hot as it did."

"I don't blame Charles."  Robert smiled.

Punch slouched on the chaise across from the rub, arranging his dressing gown to keep himself warm in the cold tiled room.  "Did Charles seem a bit...not 'imself this evenin'?"

"He did."  Robert nodded.  "Gerard, too.  I suspect they're both tired.  It has been a rather long day, furthermore, I wouldn't be surprised if the peculiar...nature of the place hasn't gotten to them, too."

"I don't doubt it."  Punch replied.  "'Sides that, they gotta deal with them downstairs all the time when we oly gotta deal with 'em in little bits.  Still, Chum, I think it a bit worrisome that Charlie said he wanted to speak with us in the mornin'."

"That's not unusual."  Robert shook  his head.  "Charles often wishes to have a bit of a briefing with us at the top of the day.  As first footman, it's quite proper that he should."

"No, this is different.  He wishes to tell us somethin'...somethin' he didn't wanna bother us with tonight."

"Now that you mention it..."  Robert raised an eyebrow.  "Well, there's nothing we can do about it at the moment."

"Right."  Punch nodded slowly.  

"Dinner was quite good."  Robert changed the subject.  

"Mrs. Pepper takes good care of us."  Punch smiled.  "It were even better once we got rid of Jackson.  Strange, after dinner, that he acted so calm-like when I told 'im to see that Miss Blessum keep out o' Lennie's room.  I thought he'd give us a regular argument."

"Perhaps he's finally learning his place."

"That'd be somethin'."  Punch nodded.

"Dear Punch, what exactly does Miss Blessum do here?  I mean, since your mother's death, she's not really needed."  Robert asked.

"I know."  Punch shrugged.  "Dunno what she does."  He laughed.  "I never thought of it.  Tried me best not to think of this place at all, really.  Just let it go on the way it 'as been.  Seems she keeps busy 'nough.  I s'pose she keeps up Mother's things.  But, with Lennie in those rooms, she's gonna 'ave to wait 'til we leave."

"Jackson implied she had other duties to occupy her time.  What could they possibly be?"  Robert shook his head as he scrubbed himself.

"Dunno."  Punch shrugged again, "Ladies' things."  He wrinkled his nose.  "Let's not talk 'bout Miss Blessum anymore.  Don't like her, Chum."

"Very well."  Robert agreed.  "I agree there are more pleasant subjects."  He tilted his head to one side.  "What are you looking at?"

"You.  You're nice to look at."

"Well, now that I've gotten used to this water, I'm rather dreading getting out of it.  The room is cold."

"Gotta get out sometime, Chum."  Punch smiled.

Meanwhile, two floors above them, Gregory carried a candle to the farthest end of the attics.

"Here, Ivy!" Gregory whispered.  "What's been keepin' ya!  Mr. Jackson's gone barmy with worry!"

The candle illuminated Miss Blessum's ghastly face which she cradled in both hands as she staggered through the narrow passage.  She removed her hands.

"Cor!"  Gregory gasped.  "What happened?"

"She scratched me!"  Ivy cried.  "She scratched me, Gregory.  She knows the rules, and yet, she deliberately broke them!"

"I hope you whipped her!"  Gregory snapped.

"I couldn't."

"Well, I'll do it."

"No, you won't."  Ivy shook her head.

"Watch me."  Gregory snarled.  "I don't care what Mr. Jackson says, we can't have that thing scratchin' us no more.  Nor bitin' nor..."

"She's not there, Greogry."

"What?"  Gregory's eyes widened.

"She pushed me."  Ivy answered quickly.  "When I went to get a cloth to stop my bleeding, I turned my back to her and she pushed me."

"So...she was chained...  Yes?"

Ivy was silent.

"Jesus, Ivy!  Tell me you didn't undo its chains!"  Gregory gasped.

"Keep your voice down."  Ivy snapped.

"Don't scold me, you old bitch.  You're the one that let her loose!"  Gregory belched.  "How could you do it?"

"I felt sorry for her."

"How could you?"

"Gregory, you don't look into her face the way I do.  You don't know her as I do."  Ivy replied.

"What's to know?"  gregory spat.  "She's a..."

"Be careful what you say!"  Ivy demanded.

"You mean to tell me she's loose in the house?"

"She can't have gotten far."

"Oh really?"  Gregory shook his head.  "And with the fey Duke and his margery here, too.  And, all them dandy footmen from London.  Ain't it grand, Ivy?  It'd 'ave been one thing for this to 'appen with just us in the house, but...but..."  He turned on his heel.

"Where are you going?"

"To get Mr. Jackson!"

"Oh, no.  Don't bother him with this."

"This ain't a broken candlestick, Miss Blessum!"  Gregory said.  "She's escaped!"

"Help me find her.  Mr. Jackson need never know."

"And if we find her, what's to keep her from killin' us both?"  Greogry asked.

"She won't.  She loves me."

"I can see that."  Gregory smirked, pointing at the bleeding scratches on Ivy's face.

"Just a few minutes."

"Everyone in this house can be dead in a few minutes." Gregory said.  "I don't care so much 'bout the rest of ya, but I do care about me-self, and I'm  not so ready to be dead."

"Please."  Ivy begged.  "Or...or...or I'll tell Mr. Jackson that it was you who left the Burke's daughter with child and no husband to take care of her."

"You wouldn't."

Ivy smiled.

"I hate you."  Gregory growled.  "Fine, you old cow.  But, if that creature of yours and Mr. Jackson's so much as spits on me, I'll cut your throat and say she done it."


Did you miss Chapters 1-24 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 26.  

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 25

Chapter 25:

Just Keep Talking

After bathing and dressing quickly—and without the assistance of Gerard who remained with Charles, Ellen and Roger—Dr. Robert Halifax met Mr. Punch in his bedchamber.

“Shall we?”  Robert sighed.

“I ‘spose.”  Mr. Punch nodded hesitantly.  “Here, it’s queer, ain’t it?”

“What’s that?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Rightfully so,” Robert nodded.  “The man did try to kill you.”

“I know.  I ought not to be scared of him, though.  After all, he’s a man like me—a man what has more than one person in ‘im.  I ought to know just what to say to ‘im.  Yet, I don’t.”

“Dear Punch,” Robert said gently, “just because the man shares a similar characteristic to you…it doesn’t mean that you’re exactly the same.  You’re right to be cautious.  While you’re fortunate in that the entities in you are relatively benign, we don’t know with what we’re about to be presented from Miss Barrett’s brother.”

“But, I got others in me, I do.  Ain’t as if it’s just me and Julian what’s in here.”  He tapped his chest.  “We know I got Guignol and Scaramouche, too.  They ain’t so very pleasant, they ain’t.”

“True, but they’re creatures of anger.  I’m confident that as vitriolic as your Mr. Scaramouche is, he wouldn’t be murderous.  You and Julian wouldn’t allow it.  I understand the politics of your situation, dear Punch, but I don’t know what we’ve got in Mr. Barrett.  He could be populated by murderers and rogues where you’re composed of sensitive souls.  Furthermore, you have control.  We’ve not seen any evidence of Scaramouche or Guignol in months.  You have remained steady.  Obviously Roger is not.”

“Still, I do feel bad for the fella.”

“As do I.”  Robert agreed.  “However, sympathy does not cancel caution.”

Mr. Punch nodded.  “Think we can help him?”

“I hope so.”  Robert sighed.  “However, we can’t be sure what troubles him.  Nor can we be sure exactly what the desired end result is.  This isn’t like scrofula.  We’re not necessarily seeking a ‘cure,’ but rather a treatment.”

“How’d you treat me?”

“I didn’t.” Robert smiled.  “I saw no need.  Honestly, I’ve never sought to change you, only to understand you.  Never once have I imagined that I wanted to kill the others inside you.  I’ve never wished for you to be anything other than what you are.  I love what you are.  I love that you’re who you are.  If Roger is blessed with an entity like you within him—a creature that’s gentle and kind and intelligent—I’d hope to bring that person out.  However, what if he doesn’t?  Can we create such a creature?  Can we ‘treat’ him or ‘cure’ him?  Will we need to?  With you, I simply want to foster what you’ve become.  With him, we may need to erase it.  The two situations are quite different.”

Mr. Punch smiled.

“What?”

“I’ve sometimes wondered if you never wanted me to be different—to be like other folks.  Seems like you’re happy with me as I am, you are.”

“Very much so.”  Robert winked.  “Never doubt it.  Still, that doesn’t mean that others whose minds and souls are like yours don’t wish to be different.  Nor does it mean that others like you may not require being different.”

“You’ve thought ‘bout this quite a lot, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Robert sighed.  “Dear Punch, I have.  Cecil, in fact, before we returned home and even via post, has urged me to write a book on the subject.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I saw no need to mention it.” Robert shrugged.

“Here, why not?”

“I know that you don’t like to think about the mechanics of your situation and, truly, I know you worry about it.  I saw no  need to add to your worry.”

“But, I think it’s a good idea, I do.”

“Do you?”

“Sure, I do!” Mr. Punch replied.  “Before today, like I said, I never thought ‘bout there bein’ others who had…well, who was like me.  Always thought I was the only one.  But, if there are others, and there are folks like this poor bloke what aren’t as fortunate as I am, I think we should help them find the sort of peace what I got.  If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

“It’s us.” Robert corrected his companion.  “This is something that the two of us can do together.”

Mr. Punch grinned. 

“Now, I suppose we’d best not keep them waiting any longer.  Poor Charles and Gerard must be terribly confused.”

“They’re intelligent men, they are.” Punch said as he and Robert walked into the passage.  “I reckon they figured out what Mr. Barrett’s situation is.”

“I’m sure that’s true.”  Robert nodded as he placed his hand on the knob of his study door.  “Let’s go, then.”

Robert and Punch entered the study to find Ellen seated on the floor next to her brother who was curled up in a ball—much like a baby.  He cooed and gurgled as Ellen whispered soothingly to him.

“Charles,” Robert began.  “How long has Mr. Barrett been like this?”

“Since Miss Barrett came in, Sir.”  Charles answered softly.

“When he saw her, Sirs,” Gerard added, “he yelped and scurried there to the corner like a sick animal.”

“It’s terribly sad, Sir.” Charles shook his head.

“It is,” Robert shook his head.  “I appreciate that you two have stayed as long as you have.  As you can see, Mr. Barrett is quite ill.”

“Yes, Sir.” Gerard answered both for himself and his friend.  “Only, Sir…is he dangerous?  We don’t want him doin’ again what he did to His Grace.”

Robert sighed.  “Honestly, I don’t know what will happen.”

“We’ll stay, then, Sir.” Gerard said.  “If you don’t mind.”

“That decision is one that Miss Barrett must make.” Robert nodded.

Ellen looked up.  “I don’t mind if they stay, Sir.  In fact, I think it best.”

Robert nodded again.

“To be sure, Sir, I think we’d feel better if we did,” Charles added.

“I would also.”  Robert said softly.

During this exchange, Mr. Punch was watching Roger with wide eyes.

“Here, Charles,” Punch said after awhile.  “Would you run to me room and get me puppet?”

“Sir?”

“Don’t  know why, really,” Punch sighed.  “Only do it, please.”

“I’ll be quick about it, Your Grace.” Charles nodded, walking quickly from Robert’s study.  Roger didn’t seem to notice.  In fact, he didn’t seem aware of anything around him other, perhaps, Ellen’s voice.

“What do you have in mind?” Robert whispered to his companion.

“Not sure.”  Punch answered softly.

Charles quickly returned with the puppet of Punch and handed it to his master.

Mr. Punch placed the puppet on his hand and silently walked to the corner of the room where Ellen sat next to her brother.  He crouched down next to them and slowly showed the puppet to Roger who did, in fact, notice it right away.

“Hullo,” Mr. Punch said in his own voice.  “Look, Roger.  I got a puppet.  Ain’t he fine?”

Roger sat up, but said nothing.

“He’s Mr. Punch.” Punch continued.  “And, I am, too.”

“No you’re not!”  Roger snarled.  “You’re the Duke of Fallbridge.”

“I’m both.” Mr. Punch replied.

“You can’t be!” Roger snapped.  “That’s a puppet and you’re a man.”

“And you’re a man, too.”  Punch answered as Robert watched in fascination.  “What’s your name?”

“Victor.” Roger answered.

“Only it ain’t,” Mr. Punch shook his head.  “Who is this nice lady?”  He pointed to Ellen.

“My sister.” Roger replied.

“Well, then, if your name is Victor, how’s she your sister?”

Roger growled.  “You’re trying to trick me!”

“No.” Mr. Punch smiled.  “I’m tryin’ to tell ya that you’re like me.  See, I’m both Mr. Punch and the Duke of Fallbridge.  You’re both Roger and the bloke what you call Victor.  Maybe more.”

Roger’s eyes welled up with tears.

“Aw, listen.  It ain’t nothin’ to cry ‘bout.  I understand that it makes ya sad, but ‘stead of lettin’ that sadness make you feel worse, why not talk ‘bout what you’re thinkin’.”

“I don’t want to.” Roger said softly.

“Well, if you don’t want to talk to me, how ‘bout you talk to the puppet?  He won’t think nothin’ of it.  He’ll like it, too.”

“Will he?”

“Sure he will.” Punch said.  “Go on.”

“I’m frightened.”  Roger whispered to the puppet.

Punch made the figure nod.

“My head hurts,” Roger continued.

Mr. Punch looked up at Robert who grinned back his approval.

“Isn’t that something?”  Gerard muttered.  “What a wonderful man His Grace is.”

“Undoubtedly.” Robert said emotionally as he watched Roger continue to speak softly to the puppet.

Ellen wiped her eyes on a lace handkerchief.

“See,” Punch said gently.  “You can talk to him.  Keep talkin’.  Just keep talkin’.”

Did you miss Chapters 1-24 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 26.  

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 25

“Well, then,” Julian said softly. “Tell me.”


“Julian, you asked how I know of ‘The Elegant Ogress.’ If you’ll recall, I hesitated. I wasn’t eager to tell you because it’s a matter of my family’s honor.”

“I don’t recall that,” Julian responded, wide-eyed—unaware that the conversation had taken place between Robert and Punch.

Robert blushed. “You were quite drowsy at the time. It’s no wonder you don’t remember. We had just come back here after breakfast. You were napping while I rambled on. You had asked me why I was on this ship.” He tried to shield Julian from the reality of his lost time.

“Why don’t I remember that?” Julian sighed.

“As I told you,” Robert stalled, “I booked passage on the ship so that I could go to New Orleans to see my brother, Cecil.”

“The brother you mentioned who knows Nanny Rittenhouse’s employer?” Julian nodded.

“Yes. Cecil’s wife just bore him a son—Fuller.” Robert continued.

“Congratulations.” Julian said.

“Thank you. I’m told he’s a fine, healthy boy. But, you see, there was some concern that Adrienne—that’s Cecil’s wife—would be able to carry a healthy child.”

“Why is that?” Julian asked.

“Her life has been, shall we say, difficult.” Robert answered softly.

“How so?” Julian asked.

“You see, Julian, Adrienne had been employed…” Robert paused. “She had been one of Iolanthe Evangeline’s girls.”

“She was…”

“Yes,” Robert nodded slowly, “She managed to escape that life and fled to a town by the river—Marionneaux. The Elegant Ogress sent her henchmen after her, but Cecil managed to protect her. He fell in love with her immediately and made her his wife. I know the great lengths that this Evangeline woman will go to ensure she gets her way. She’s dangerous. Adrienne had once been a great lady herself—from a fine French family. She was unjustly…” Robert shook his head. “We don’t need to get into all of that right now. Let’s say simply that she fell into the wrong hands.”

“I see.” Julian sighed.

“Now they’re happy. They live comfortably. She takes care of their home while Cecil is sculpting. He’s a wax sculptor, you see. However, the threat of Iolanthe’s wrath is ever-present. That is how I know of the ogress.”

“I’m glad that you told me, Robert.” Julian responded. “However, that doesn’t answer my question. I asked you to tell me what is wrong with me. You’re postponing your answer.”

“Sir, nothing is wrong with you.” Robert lied. “You’re simply weary and overwhelmed by your voyage.”

“I don’t believe you.” Julian twirled the ring on his left hand.

“You must.” Robert answered, sitting next to Julian. “You must.”

“Did you give Arthur that medicine to administer to me?” Julian asked.

“No, Julian, I did not.”

“And, I suppose that’s another thing that I ‘must’ believe.”

“Yes.”

“Robert, I’m not a man who trusts easily.” Julian said plainly.

“Nor should you be.” Robert patted Julian’s knee.

“Why then, should I trust you?” Julian asked.

“Because I know pain.” Robert smiled. “I understand the agony of life.”

Julian shrugged. “In itself, I suppose that’s enough.”

“Will you rest now?” Robert asked.

“Do I have a choice?” Julian inhaled sharply.

“No, my friend. You do not.”

“Resting isn’t my strong suit.” Julian mumbled.

“I’ll help you.” Robert smiled.

They sat in comfortable silence, unaware that someone was about to shatter that comfort.

At that very moment, Arthur was bounding onto the deck of the Hyperion, panting.

“He wouldn’t take it.” Arthur hissed to a shabbily dressed man who stood by the rail.

“And why not?” The man asked.

“That Halifax bloke interrupted us.” Arthur explained.

“Try again.” The man grunted.

“No!” Arthur spat. “You’re the one what’s got all the ideas! You’re the puppet master! You find a way!”

“I don’t like your tone, boy.” The man growled. “From here on, you’ll address me as ‘Professor.’”

“Yes, Sir.” Arthur’s face turned red.

“Fine. You go make sure the letters to the Duchess are in order. I will take care of Lord Julian. I think what we need is a more feminine touch.”

“She won’t do it, Sir.” Arthur trembled.

“Oh, yes she will.” The man laughed. “She’ll do anything I say.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-24? If so, you can read them here.