A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 42

Chapter 42
A New Reign



The twelve or so members of Fallbridge Hall's staff who'd already risen for the morning and gathered in the Servants' Hall, nervously rose to their feet when the Duke of Fallbridge, the Baron Colinshire and Lady Fallbridge, freshly-dressed for the new day (though at a hideously early hour) stormed downstairs.  Would they all be dismissed as Mr. Jackson had? Rumors had been the order of breakfast--rumors and gossip which fed the nerves of the native staff and the amusement of Mrs. Pepper and Maudie who listened from the kitchens.

Miss Blessum and Gregory greeted them.

"Your Grace,"  Gregory bowed his head obsequiously.  "Is there anything with which I might help you."

"Do you have the keys to the pantry?"  Punch asked bluntly.

"The pantry, Your Grace?"

"Jackson's pantry.  The butler's pantry.  The pantry."  Punch snapped.

"I do."  Gregory nodded.  "As first footman, I..."

"Hand them over."  Punch interrupted him.

"Yes, Your Grace."  Gregory nodded, reaching for the keys.  "Am I sacked?"

Punch looked at Robert and Lennie and smiled.

"Not yet."  He said finally.

Gregory exhaled with relief. 

"Don't look so relaxed yet."  Punch grinned.  "I said, 'yet.'"

"Am I, Your Grace?"  Ivy Blessum asked.

"Nothing would please me more than to dismiss you, Miss Blessum."  Mr. Punch scowled.  "Furthermore, don't think for a moment that I didn't notice you skulking about whilst I was speaking with my family last night.  You are treacherous, and peculiar.  Typically I like peculiar people, but you are peculiar in exactly the wrong sort of way."

Ivy sniffed.

"However, for the time being, you're necessary, as much as it pains me to say it."  Punch continued.  He leaned in.  "The two of you know the most about the situation upstairs and Mr. Jackson's reasons for...all of it.  Miss Blessum, you most of all.  So, you're being given a rare chance.  You can stay, for the time being, provided two things.  The first being that you change your alliance.  Mr. Jackson is not in charge here.  You'd do well to remember that this is my house.  My mother is dead.  If you tell me the truth about what's gone on here since I've been away, there may remain a place here.  If you continue this madness, you'll find yourself out in the cold."

"What is the second provision, Your Grace?"  Ivy asked stiffly.  

"Stay away from Miss Morgana,"  Mr. Punch whispered.  

"Your Grace!"

"She will be attended to by my staff from London.  I wish you nowhere near her."  Punch said firmly.

Gregory smirked at Ivy's obvious agony.  Still, Ivy nodded her agreement.

"As for you Gregory--just stop being such a stirrer.  Mind your place and keep your wits about you."  Punch continued.

"Furthermore, if I hear anymore comments about me and His Grace or Mr. and Mrs. Gurney from you,"  Robert added, "I will personally toss you out of the house."

Gregory blushed.

"Yes, you should blush.  I've heard what you've called me under your breath."  Robert growled.  "It may be that I am what you say, Gregory, but count on this, I could still break every bone in your body and make you swallow your teeth.  So, just keep quiet."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"I dislike you both, too."  Lennie added brightly.  She smiled.  "I just don't like to be left out." She inhaled.  "Now, to the pantry."

"Maybe Mr. Jackson should be here when we go..."  Ivy said nervously.

"I can't believe I have to repeat this."  Punch sighed.  "This is MY house.  Jackson has been dismissed and he's run off.  I can go wherever I like whenever I like.  Thus far, you're not doing well keeping up your end of our bargain."

"Yes, Your Grace.  I apologize."

Gregory smiled.  "The pantry is this way."

"I know where it is."  Punch grumbled.  "We don't wish to be bothered."  With that, he, Robert and Lennie retreated to Jackson's former lair.

"Gregory, what will we do should they find her?"  Ivy moaned softly.

"I hope they do."  Gregory laughed.  "It'll give 'em a shock, it will."  He guffawed.  "Aw, buck up, Ivy, only Jackson has a key to that cupboard."

"Still...it's too close."  She wrung her hands.  "And, I can't see Morgana."

"Listen, woman, you're not out in the cold.  Count your blessings."  Gregory muttered.

"I don't like this at all."  Ivy shook her head.

"It's a new reign,"  Gregory shrugged.  "I intend to be part of it."

"I will never."  Ivy snapped.

"Stay in your grave, then."  Gregory sighed.  "And, rot, for all I care."  He walked away.

"I'll see you all rot before I do."  Ivy whispered.  "My Morgana and I...we will see you all fall at our feet."



Did you miss Chapters 1-41 of A Recipe of Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 43.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 42

Chapter 42:

Audacity

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” Punch yelped, wringing his hands as he leaned over the corpse of William Stover which was spread out on the front steps of No. 65 Belgrave Square.  “What happened?  How’d this happen?”  Punch’s panic was palpable.  Robert could feel the alarm radiate from his companion and knew that he had to calm Punch before another of the entities within him—one of those who fed on fear—took over control of the body.

“Dear Punch,” Robert said quickly.  “Remain calm, please.”

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Punch repeated.  His eyes widened.  “You don’t suppose…”

“What?”  Robert asked.

Punch rose and hurried to the door of their home, ringing the bell.  “You don’t suppose he tried to get inside and hurt Colin or one of…”

Robert took a deep breath and then exhaled.   At first he wanted to stop Punch ringing the bell, but, then, concluded that the help of Speaight or one of the footmen would be a beneficial.

“Why’d this happen?”  Punch spun around, tears in his eyes.  “Beaten all to bits.  Not the way I’d do it…”

“Punch…” Robert hissed.

“Well, it ain’t.! I’m all for one quick blow with somethin’ heavy.  Not all these sharp whacks…”  Punch snorted.  “Ain’t humane!  One good hit, that’s all ya need.”

“Don’t say those things,” Robert warned.

“Yet, for as beaten as he is, there ain’t very much blood on the steps.”  Punch continued. “Oh dear, oh dear. oh dear.”  He paused.  “Why ain’t there blood on the steps?”

“Dear Punch,” Robert shook his head.  “He was killed hours ago by the look of him.  Killed and then moved here.”

“Why’d anyone do that?”

“To implicate us in the murder.”  Robert growled.  “I don’t know.”

“But, we was at the palace.  Ain’t no better alibi than bein’ with the Queen’s husband at Buckingham Palace!  No one could possibly think we done this, chum!”

“William was killed hours ago.” Robert repeated.

“How do ya know?”

“I can tell.” Robert mumbled.

“Guess you would, bein’ a doctor an’ all.”  Punch nodded. 

Robert rose and walked over to Punch on the landing.  “Listen to me.”

“Sure,” Punch nodded nervously.

“Nothing is going to happen to us.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Robert nodded.  “This is a terrible thing, but we’re safe.  We will remain safe.  I’ll see to it.  I promise you.”

Punch nodded.

“You must stay calm.  Know that I love you and that you’re safe.” Robert continued.

“Sure, chum.” Punch said with more confidence.

The front door of the mansion opened and Charles smiled at first upon seeing the Duke, however, his smile quickly faded when he saw the grisly scene.

“My God!” Charles squawked.

“We came home to find this man—Mr. Stover—dead here, Charles.” Punch explained.  “Hutchinson went for the beadle.”

“The beadle?” Charles asked nervously.

“Certainly, the beadle.  Why not?” Robert snapped.

“I…I don’t know, Sir.”

“Charles, help me pick ‘im up.  We’ll carry ‘im in the house.  Can’t leave ‘im out here.”  Punch said.

“No!” Robert spat.

“Oh, right.  Charles’ wrist.”  Punch nodded.  “Here, go get Gerry, he can help.”

“No.  I don’t want him in our house.”

“We can bring him to the servants’ hall, Sir.  I can warn the girls to clear out.” Charles suggested.

“I don’t want him in the house!” Robert snarled.

Punch’s face fell and Charles took a step backward.

“My apologies, my dear.  I’m sorry, Charles.” Robert added quickly.  “I don’t mean to shout.  It’s…it’s too awful.  I didn’t care for the man, but…this…no one…”

“But, we can’t leave him here on the street.” Punch whispered.

Within seconds, the constable arrived with Hutchinson.  Robert worried that Punch was too rattled to perform his Julian routine, but Punch quickly surprised his companion—yet again.

“Constable,” Punch greeted the man in his best Julian voice.

“Your Grace,” The constable bowed his head for a moment.  “Looks as if we got some trouble here.”

“It’s too horrid.” Punch continued.  “We had just returned from luncheon with Prince Albert to find this poor soul…”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The constable said, bending over to examine the body.  He looked over at Robert who still stood nearby.  “You’re the doctor, yes?”

“I am.”

“How long has he been dead?”

“I would say just over an hour.”  Robert replied.

Over the constable’s head, Punch and Robert exchanged glances.  Punch wondered why Robert said “just over an hour,” when he had earlier said “hours ago.”

“Do you know the man, Your Grace?”  The policeman asked.

“We had met him,” Robert responded.

“Begging your pardon, Sir, but I was speakin’ to the Duke.” The constable frowned.

“Yes, Constable.” Punch nodded, still behaving as Julian.  “I had been introduced to the man.  I would not say I knew him beyond a basic introduction.”

“Now, Doctor,” The Constable smiled.  “What about you?”

“His name is William Stover.” Robert answered.  “We had first met in ’51.  We had a brief acquaintance, but, as is often the case, lost contact.  I hadn’t seen him in almost a year until this past week.”

“Was he comin’ here to see you.”  The constable asked.

“No.  If he was, we weren’t aware of it.  As I said, we had a luncheon appointment at Buckingham Palace.”  Punch explained.  “If he was coming here, he wouldn’t have found us home.”

“Read ‘bout that in the ‘News,’ Sir.” The constable nodded.  “What you know ‘bout it, mate?”  He pointed to Charles.

“The man has been following the Duke and Dr. Halifax, Sir.  I saw him just yesterday in Covent Garden watching us.”  Charles responded.

“It’s true,” Hutchinson added.  “I seen ‘im, too.”

Behind, the Constable, Robert’s eyes flashed with anger.  He hadn’t wanted Charles to share that.

“To be quite honest,” Punch intervened.  “I suspect that this man was eager to exploit his past friendship with my companion to gain favor with me.  No doubt he was looking for a patron for his porcelain concern.  I think he has been lurking about in order to find me alone and ask me for assistance.”

“He got any family?” The constable asked Robert.

“A sister.  Eudora, I believe.”

“Eudora Stover?” The constable grinned.  “Lots of children?”

“Yes.” Robert nodded.

“Oh, now it’s all clear.”  The constable laughed. 

“I’m afraid not for me.” Mr. Punch frowned.

“Well, Your Grace.  The deceased here comes from a bad element.  No doubt he come out here lookin’ for you and got himself knocked over by one of his sister’s…friends who was lookin’ for an easy coin.”  The officer replied, looking through William’s pockets.

“That makes sense.”  Robert said quickly.

“See, look there.  Ain’t no purse.  Bloke’s been robbed.  There ya have it.”

“Yes.”  Mr. Punch sighed.  “What a shame.”

“What should we do with him, Sir?” Charles whispered.   He pointed to the crowd which had been growing since Punch and Robert arrived.

Mr. Punch snorted softly.  He’d been so focused on what was happening right in front of him that he didn’t notice the expanding group of onlookers which ranged from scullery maids to ladies.

“Go to the area and get a sheet.” Mr. Punch said quickly.  “Something with which we might cover him.”

Charles did as instructed, and, did so surprisingly fast.

The constable helped Charles cover William Stover’s body.

“Your Grace, I’m awful sorry this happened in front of your fine home.” The constable lowered his head.  “When your driver came to fetch me, I sent me partner for the wagon.  He’ll be here quick ‘nough.  Why don’t you two gents go inside, then, Sir?  It’s clear what happened here.  We’ll get this cleared ‘way and you won’t need to worry ‘bout it no more.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Punch responded.

“And, doctor,” The constable looked at Robert.  There was a sly twinkle in his eye.  “If this man were a friend of yours, Sir, I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

“He was barely an acquaintance.”  Robert frowned.

“Well, then, Sir.  Glad to know it.”

“Good evening, Constable.”  Mr. Punch nodded as Charles opened the door for him.

“Oh, Doctor…” The constable whispered after Punch had gone inside and just as Robert was about to enter the house.

Robert turned around.

“Lucky you’re with the Duke of Fallbridge now.” The officer winked.

Robert could feel the blood rise in his face as the closed the door behind him.

“Sirs,” Charles gasped.  “This is dreadful.”

“I know, Charles.” Punch said, finally speaking as himself.  “Thanks, for helpin’.”

“I’m afraid I said too much, Sir.” Charles said softly to Robert.

“You told the truth,” Robert smiled weakly, “That’s all you could do.”

“Sirs,” Charles began haltingly.  “No one in this house had anything to do with that man’s death.”

“No.” Robert replied firmly.  “No one in this house did.”

“Charles,” Punch said, “Would you go on downstairs and ‘xplain to the others what’s happenin?”

“What should I tell them, Your Grace?”

“Just tell ‘em that a bloke met a bad end outside our house and that should anyone ask ‘bout it, it don’t have nothin’ to do with us and we don’t know nothin’ bout it.”  Punch replied.  “Give me ‘bout ten minutes with Dr. Halifax, and, then send Speaight up to the library.  Actually, you Gerry and Speaight should come up.  We’ll talk ‘bout what to do next.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”  Charles said, hurrying off.

Alone in the foyer with Robert, Punch put his hands on his companion’s shoulders and pulled the man to him.  Wrapping his arms around Robert’s waist, Punch could feel his companion relax a bit.

“Sorry, Chum.” Punch whispered.

“Why?” Robert rasped.

“I know you liked him once.”

“Not really,” Robert sighed.  “I was just lonely.  Lonely and dreaming of something which I didn’t think I’d ever have.”

“But, you got it now.” Punch pulled back, smiling.

“That I do.” Robert replied emotionally.  “And, I’ve got to protect it.”

“We both do.”  Punch whispered.  “I didn’t kill ‘im.  I woulda done, but I didn’t.”

“Did you ever say aloud that you wanted to kill him?”  Robert asked.

“Yes.” Punch nodded.  “To Dog Toby.”

Robert smiled slightly, but it passed quickly.  “I threatened him—loudly--in the middle of a crowded factory.”

“Oh.” Punch sighed slowly.  “That ain’t so good.”

“No.”

“That’s why you lied ‘bout how long he were dead?”

“Yes.” Robert nodded. 

“My Robert,” Punch began…

“I didn’t kill him.” Robert shook his head. 

“Well, I know that!” Punch frowned.

“I just wanted you to be sure.”

“Someone did.”

“I know.”

“And, it were someone what was lookin’ out for us, Chum.” Mr. Punch shook his head.  “It were one of the folks here in this house.  I know it.”

“Do you think so?” Robert sighed.  “I thought just the opposite.  I suspect someone killed him and brought him to our house to implicate us in the murder.”

“But, why?” Punch frowned.  “Why are folks always out for us?”

“Because we’re different, dear Punch.” Robert sighed.  “Because…we are different and we have the audacity to be successful and happy.”

“I ‘spect so.”

 “You know this is far from over?” Robert asked.

“Oh, I’m ‘ware.”  Punch sighed.  “I’m very aware.”

Did you miss Chapters 1-41?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 43 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.  

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 42

Punch used Julian’s hand to knock on the door of the narrow brick house on Jouet Street. He could hear spirited music and female laughter inside.


The door swung open eagerly and a homely woman—overdressed in silk in feathers—glowered out at them.

“Whatchu wantin’?” The woman growled.

Imitating Lord Julian, Punch responded. “I’d like to see the mistress of the house.”

“Got a lot of mistresses here,” The woman cackled. “Which one ya want?”

“The proprietress—Miss Evangeline.” Punch answered in Julian’s voice.

“She don’t see no people off da street.” The woman pulled back her lips to reveal a black hole where he front teeth might have been.

“She’ll see me.” Punch answered in the way he thought Julian would. “I am Julian, Lord Fallbridge.”

“I see.” The woman whistled through her missing teeth. “I am Mala. So charmed to meet ya, Mr. Fallbridge.”

“Lord Fallbridge,” Punch corrected her. “My surname is Molliner.”

“Come right on in and we’ll see about getting someone for to take care of you.” Mala cackled again.

Punch and Naasir walked through the door into a surprisingly spacious outdoor courtyard anchored by a sputtering fountain in the middle of the decorative brick floor. Three French doors lined the back wall through which a crimson room filled with velvet chairs and gold-fringed drapery could be seen.

“Your man’s gonna have to stay out here.” Mala pointed to Naasir.

“No.” Punch said. “He comes with me.”

“Can’t.” Mala spat. “’S gotta stay out here.”

“I must come with His Lordship,” Naasir spoke up.

“Dem’s the rules.” Mala argued.

“Let him come in, Mala.” A woman hissed from the center set of doors. She was the woman from the docks—dressed in purple silk with long lavender gloves which clung to her arms as if they’d been swallowed by shining violet snakes.

“We want our visitors from abroad to feel welcome.” The woman continued.

“Miss Evangeline,” Mala spoke quickly. “You know how the law feels ‘bout dese things.”

“Mala, if the law were to come in here, they’d have a damn sight more to argue about than whether or not we let a colored man in the house.” Iolanthe Evangline laughed. “Besides, we already got two policemen here. They don’t seem to have any complaints. And, I certainly don’t want my guests—who have traveled so far to come here—to think that we’re ungracious. Now, go fetch the water for my bath!”

“Yes’m.” Mala nodded before trotting off.

“Do come in, Your Lordship.” Iolanthe Evangeline wiggled a finger at Naasir and Julian/Punch.

“Your girl is very dedicated.” Punch responded in Julian’s voice.

“All my girls are loyal.” The Elegant Ogress smiled coyly as they came into the parlor.

“What do you think of my humble establishment?” She asked.

“I think it’s exactly what one might expect.” Punch answered as he thought Julian might.

“So, what brings the fine Englishman to my home? I know it’s not because you’re looking for some company.” Iolanthe smiled.

“You know very well what brings me here.” Punch answered.

“Well, I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m disagreeable. But, you aren’t goin’ to get what you want.” Miss Evangeline grinned. “Our newest girl ain’t arrived yet. She’s off on other business. So, why don’t you make yourself at home and have a nice talk with me? I’m not so bad to look at am I? Even if I am a quadroon. I’m the prettiest of my kind. And, I’m nice and soft.” She reclined on a plush, scarlet chaise and laughed.

Punch scowled.

“Though from what I can gather of you, Your Lordship, you don’t much care for soft things. Do you?” The ogress continued.

“I don’t much care for you.” Punch said, his own voice creeping into his speech. “It’s a pretty color that red. Isn’t it? The color of blood.”

“My second favorite color.” Iolanthe Evangeline whispered.

“Where’s his sister?” Punch asked.

“His?” Iolanthe laughed. “Oh, yes, I forgot, you royal men like to speak of yourselves as if you’re talkin’ ‘bout someone else.”

“Where is she?” Punch shouted.

“Sir,” Naasir interrupted. “Do calm yourself. Remember who you are.”

“Here,” Punch continued to shout. “I know bloody well who I am. I’m here for that Barbara. She’s got what’s mine. She’s got the thing what she took from me and cleaved my head for!”

Punch reached into Julian’s pocket and withdrew the carving knife he’d taken from the house on Royal Street. The blade glinted against the light of the sparkling glass chandeliers.

“Mr. Punch!” Naasir reached for Julian’s arm.

Iolanthe Evangeline clapped her hands twice—sharply.

From behind the velvet drapes, two hulking men appeared.

“Now, now,” Iolanthe clucked her tongue. “Even if you are a royal man, you can’t be rowdy in my house.”

She nodded her head at the two men. “Boys, take these two gentlemen to my rooms and make them ready for me. I’ll be along shortly.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-41? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 43 of Punch’s Cousin.