Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 264

Chapter 264 

What We Feared 



Charles was surprised to see the bell for the front door sway and jingle in the tidy row of bells above the servants’ hall archway. He looked to Mr. Speaight who shrugged.

“Now, who could be wantin’ to see His Grace at such an early hour?” Mrs. Pepper snapped from her kitchen.

“I hope it ain’t that horrible woman again.” Gamilla muttered, mostly to herself as she passed through the servants’ hall. She carried a neatly folded pile of the baby’s linens.

“Which one is that, dear?” Mrs. Pepper called to Gamilla through the pass-through. “There’s a host of ‘em these days.”

“That woman from America.” Gamilla answered. “Miss Rittenhouse.”

“You know her, then?” Violet asked from the corner where she was sewing a lace collar to one of Miss Lennie’s new tea gowns.

“Oh, we know her.” Gamilla frowned. “Don’t we, Charlie?”

“That we do.” Charles replied stiffly. “Gerard, Gamilla and I are very familiar with her.”

“I’d like to see her,” Violet said softly. “I’ve never seen an American woman before.”

“What about Gamilla?” Georgie Pepper laughed. “She’s American.”

“Are you, Gamilla?” Violet asked innocently. “I thought you were from Africa.”

“I am.” Gamilla answered quickly.

“See.” Violet smiled at Georgie.

“But, she came here from America.” Georgie replied.

“I did. I’m from everywhere and nowhere.” Gamilla nodded. “But, I’m happy to say that I’m an English woman now and gonna be a real English wife.”

“That you are, dear.” Mrs. Pepper replied firmly from her kitchen.

“While we’re all very happy about that,” Mr. Speaight said, “it doesn’t open the door, does it?”

“I’ll go, Mr. Speaight.” Charles rose from the table. “However, if it’s Ulrika Rittenhouse returned for the Duke, I’m afraid I won’t be too kind.”

“You have my permission, Charles.” Speaight replied. “Furthermore,” he set down his newspaper and scratched his thin, carrot-colored hair. “I’ll be the first to help you boot her out.”

Charles smiled. “I shall be delighted.” Putting on his coat as he climbed the stairs, Charles hurried through the foyer to the vestibule and opened the front door.

He thought for a moment that whomever had rung had already departed and then he looked down. There stood a little girl with a filthy face and stained pink dress. Her hair was disheveled about her face, cropped crudely at the nape of her neck.

Charles knew at once who the girl was.

“Fern?” He asked.

The girl nodded.

“Where’s your mummy?”

“Gone.” Fern whispered.

“Did she send you here?” Charles asked.

Again the girl nodded. She held up a letter addressed, in Lady Constance’s hand, to the Duke of Fallbridge.

Charles looked around to see that the girl wasn’t followed and said quickly. “You must come in.”

Fern entered the house, looking around with wide eyes. Charles followed her eyes as they traveled up the banisters to the sunlight streaming through the glass dome, five stories above her.

“I used to live in a house like this.” Fern said.

“Don’t you still?” Charles asked softly.

“I haven’t been there in a long time.” Fern said. “I’ve been in a dirty place.”

“I know,” Charles answered gently. “I’m glad to see that you are no longer there. We’ve all been very worried. I can take your letter for you.”

“No.” Fern shook her head. “Mummy said to give it to His Grace.”

“I’ll take it to His Grace.”

“No.” Fern repeated. “I’m to give it to the Duke of Fallbridge myself.”

“Very well.” Charles nodded. “I will go upstairs and tell the Duke that you’re here. I’m sure you must be hungry. Why not go downstairs and tell the nice lady in the kitchens that Charles said to make you a nice breakfast. Her name is Mrs. Pepper and…”

“No.” Fern sighed. “I am here to see the Duke of Fallbridge.”

“Still, I know you’ve been away from your home for…”

“Sir,” Fern shook her head. “I’ve been in a terrible place with horrible people and a mean woman who had a…baby…with…two…” She began to cry. “Two heads.”

Charles went pale.

“Now, may I please see the Duke of Fallbridge?” She asked, wiping her eyes and regaining her composure.

“Wait here, Miss.” Charles nodded, gesturing to a plush chair beside the entry hall fire. “I will bring His Grace to you.”

“And, Dr. Halifax, too?”

“Certainly.” Charles nodded before racing up the stairs.

Upon reaching the floor of the Duke’s chamber, Charles knocked softly on the Duke’s door before opening it and entering the dark room. The sun had not yet fully risen and he was sure that the masters would still be asleep.

Dog Toby looked up from the foot of the bed and barked softly.

“Dog Toby?” Punch snuffled. He bolted upright. “Charles?”

Robert, too, began to stir.

“What’s…” Robert squinted.

“I’m sorry to wake you this way, Sirs, but,” Charles began.

“Oh, no…not more trouble.” Robert rubbed his eyes.

“Fern is in the hall.” Charles explained.

“Fern?” Punch squinted.

“Lady Constance’s daughter, Your Grace.”

“Where’s her mother?”

“The girl says she’s ‘gone.’” Charles answered.

“I wonder how she managed to get free of Orpha.” Robert climbed out of the bed.

Charles hurried over with the doctor’s dressing gown.

“The child has a letter with her, Dr. Halifax. I offered to take it to the Duke, and she insisted upon giving it to His Grace herself.”

Mr. Punch also climbed out of the bed, and was given his dressing gown by Charles. “There was no sign of Lady Constance at all?”

“No, Your Grace.”

“Oh dear,” Punch muttered. “I’ve a feeling something is terrible wrong, Chum.”

“As do I, dear Punch.” Robert nodded. “Charles, tell the child to go to the kitchens and that she’s to be given her breakfast while we dress.”

“She won’t, Sir.” Charles shook his head.

“Maybe she’s shy. Poor thing’s gotta be scared. Sure, if you tell her that she’s to be our very special guest and to have all the finest we got in the kitchens…” Punch started.

“Your Grace,” Charles interrupted. “I’d thought the same thing, but this child…she’s clearly not well. She needs to see you right away. She said she was being kept in a ‘filthy place’ with cruel people and a…baby with two heads.”

Punch’s eyes widened. “Marduk!”

Robert, without a word, hurried past Charles, and to Punch whom he took by the hand.

They walked out of the room.

“Shall I come, too, Your Grace?”

“Dunno.” Punch mumbled

“Ahhh…” Robert replied as he and Punch descended the stairs. “I think not. Go downstairs and get some milk and toast for the girl. Bring on a tray. We’ll be on the morning room.”

“It’s what we feared, ain’t it, Chum?” Punch whispered.

“Yes, dear Punch, it is.” Robert nodded.



Did you miss Chapters 1-263 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 265.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 264

Julian couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of Mr. Scaramouche hanging by his miniature collar, pinched between Mr. Punch’s thumb and forefinger. The little creature emitted tiny, angry squeaks and high-pitched growls as it swatted at the air with open palms.


“Ain’t he adorable?” Punch laughed as he dangled Scaramouche in front of himself.

“In a ferocious kind of way,” Julian grinned.

“Here, what are you doin’ back in here, Master?” Mr. Punch asked. “I figured once you got out, you’d want to spend some time with our chums, you would.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Julian said as he stepped closer to Punch. “However, given the fact that we were administered a rather strong sedative tonic, I’m quite surprised that I lasted as long as I did before falling asleep.”

“True,” Punch nodded. “I’d not thought of that, but I guess it were your anger what kept you alert.”

“Anger has a way of interrupting everything else, doesn’t it?” Julian sighed as he peered at the continually wriggling miniature Scaramouche.

“Until you take the wind from its sails.” Punch laughed. “Then, it’s just a little nothin’.”

“Indeed.” Julian nodded.

“I heard what you were sayin’ to Robert.” Mr. Punch said softly. “Coo! I didn’t know you could raise such a fuss. It were real nice to hear.”

“Thank you,” Julian smiled. “It seems to have served its purpose.”

“What should we do with him?” Punch asked. “Maybe we ought to lock him up somewhere. Pity there ain’t a cabinet in here like what you used to keep me in back when we was a Fallbridge Hall. Here, you still got that wee key what Naasir gave ya? Maybe we can open up that cupboard in the wall where the memories live.”

“It’s an intriguing idea, dear Punch,” Julian nodded again. “However, it may not solve the problem.”

“Whatever do you mean, Master?” Punch asked. “When somethin’s bad, you lock it away. True? Look at Iolanthe. She were bad and they put her in a cage. So, why not do the same to Scaramouche? He’s a bad one, he is.”

“He’s only as bad as we allow him to be. Locking him away and trying to ignore him—or forget about him—might just be what allowed him to get as big and fierce as he was.”

“Oh, like hatchin’ an egg.” Punch nodded. “Before you know it, you got a chicken what’s peckin’ at your guts.”

“Something like that.” Robert said. “Certainly, that’s a decidedly more colorful way of phrasing it.”

Scaramouche chirped and groaned, still hanging from Mr. Punch’s pinch.

“I think, Punch, we should let him roam free in here. We can keep watch on him and make sure that he only gets smaller and weaker. Perhaps, one day, he’ll disappear.” Julian explained.

“I ‘spose.” Punch frowned.

“Besides, dear Punch, when the time comes for us to awaken, it’ll be you who manages the body. So, I’ll be the one who’s in here with him most of the time.”

“You ain’t goin’ back out?”

“I don’t think so.” Julian shook his head. “Not for now. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No!” Punch smiled. “I’m glad to do it.”

“I think it’s time to drop him,” Julian winked, pointing to Scaramouche. “Let him scurry off an nurse his wounds. We’ll keep an eye on him.”

“As you wish,” Punch shrugged, letting Scaramouche’s newly tiny body fall to the floor. He squeaked as he landed and skittered off like a rodent.

Punch laughed heartily.

“Well done, Punch.” Julian sighed. “Well done.”

Meanwhile, Robert and Cecil were chatting in the back parlor. Barbara Allen had wisely left the brothers to discuss all of the many matters that plagued their family. Their intimate chat was interrupted by a knock on the front door.

Cecil shook his head. “Meridian will send whoever it is away.”

But, she didn’t. Within seconds, Meridian was entering the back parlor.

“Trouble’s knockin’, Sir.” Meridian groaned as she opened the door.

“Which one?” Robert asked.

“Don’t tell me that Marie Laveau dares to come to this house!” Cecil spat.

“Not that smart.” Meridian shook her head. “It’s Arthur and his friend.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-263? If so, you can read them here.