A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 74

Chapter 74
Poison


"Mr. Perkins,"  Gerard narrowed his eyes, taking the younger valet by the arm.  

"Mr. Gurney,"  Perkins rasped.  "Unhand me.  I've got to get my master's things in order before he wakes."

"You could 'ave done that if you'd 'ave awakened with the rest of us this mornin'."  Gerard answered, tightening his grip.  

"Oy!  You're hurtin' me.  What's this all about?"  Freddy snapped.

"This is all about your just now arrivin' home."  Gerard replied. 

"I don't 'ave to answer to you.  You got no authority over me."  Freddy pulled his arm away.

"I certainly do.  You're a guest, just like your master, in my masters' house."

"Your master is the the Duke's maryann, from what I understand.  Maybe I'd take orders from Mr. Iantosca, but not from you."  Freddy growled, straightening his vest.  "Now, I got me duties."

Gerard pulled back his hand and slapped Freddy soundly across the face.

"If I hear you ever speak such vile words about His Grace or Lord Colinshire again, you'll get far worse than that!"  Gerard hissed.

Freddy looked as if he might fight back, but thought better of it.  "You are mad, aren't ya?  I'd rather talk to Mr. Iantosca.  At least he's a gentleman."

"Did I hear my name?"  Charles smiled as he joined the men in the passage leading from the south end of Fallbridge Hall to the main part of the house.

"I've found Perkins."  Gerard inhaled.  "He's got some trouble listenin'.  And too much freedom in his talkin'."

"So I understand."  Charles nodded.  "Where have you been, Mr. Perkins?"

"Does it matter?  I'm here now, and I don't want to keep Lord Cleaversworth waitin'."

"It does matter."  Charles said firmly.  "First off, Gerard and I are in charge of the running of the household whilst we're away from our London home.  The staff here at the Hall is useless.  Why do you think we were brought all the way to Yorkshire?  Your visit here is no different than a visit to Belgrave Square.  You will not speak to us so rudely.  Second of all, you have been gone all night."

"What of it?"  Freddy squinted.

"What were you thinkin'?"  Gerard exclaimed.

"I'm young and I want to have a bit o' fun.  Maybe you're married and dim, but I ain't."  Freddy bellowed.  "Now, kindly let me go on about my duties."

"Not until we finish.  It's not just you who is involved."  Charles sighed.

"Who else does it concern?"  Freddy smirked.

"Well, then, the Baron Colinshire was none too pleased to hear it.  Nor will be the Duke when he learns of it."  Charles answered.

"Does my master know?"  Freddy asked, finally showing a bit of anxiety.

"He will."  Gerard and Charles answered in unison.

"Now, come on, there ain't no reason for that...it's me own business."  He rubbed his cheek which still stung from Gerard's hand.

"Not when you take our young footman with you."  Charles asked.  "Then, it becomes our business."

"So, he told you.  That boy..."  Freddy shook his head.

"He's told us nothing.  I haven't seen him.  No one has seen him!"  Gerard snarled.  "You mind tellin' us where George is, then?"

"You mean he didn't come back?"  Freddy exclaimed.

"Eh, you still stink of whiskey."  Charles turned his head.  "What do you mean by asking if he came back?  He didn't return with you from wherever you took him, idiot?"

"No...no, he left on his own well before sunrise."  Freddy said quickly.  "Said he was comin' back here.  He didn't want to stay with us."

"Us?"  Gerard asked.  "Who else was with you?"

Freddy didn't answer.

"Come on, lad!"  Charles demanded.

"I can't say."  Freddy replied, rubbing his temples.

"You got a headache?"  Gerard shouted.  "It's too bad.  But, that's what happens when you..."  He softened a bit.  "Look, mate, I been there  me-self.  Wasn't so long ago that I was doin' the same kinds of things.  Just tell us where you went and with whom, and we'll carry on in findin' George before his mother cries herself into a fit."

"I don't know, Mr. Gurney.  I told ya, he left.  Said he was comin' back here."

"Well, he didn't make it."  Charles frowned,  he glanced at his pocket watch.  "Listen, you'd best go take care of Lord Cleaversworth."

"You ain't gonna tell 'im?  Are ya?"

"I'm not."  Charles smiled.  "I have no doubt that the Duke and Lord Colinshire will--especially since you seem to have lost our George."

"I can find 'im."  Freddy shook his head.  "Just let me take care of Lord Cleaversworth, then, me and Gregory will..."  He began to blush.

"So, it was Gregory who led you astray, was it?"  Gerard sighed.

"I...I..."  Freddy stammered.

"Get out and go to the earl.  Steady on, mate, if you can.  You're still a but drunk."  Gerard grumbled.  

"However, be ready to continue this when you've finished your duties.  In the meantime, we'll be speaking with Gregory."  Charles scowled.

"Oh, Mr. Iantosca, be a mate.  Don't..."

"On with you!"  Charles ordered.

Freddy skittered off.  

"Don't that figure?"  Gerard spat.  "Now what, Charlie?"

"We talk to Gregory.  He knows he's already about to be tossed into the cold.  He'll talk if he knows what's good for him."

"What if he don't know where George is?"  Gerard asked.

"We'll find him."  Charles said confidently.  "He likely had too much to drink and found a spot where he could sleep it off somewhere on the estate."

"I hope that's all it is."  Gerard muttered.  "We'd best go tell the masters."

"Let's give them a moment's peace."  Charles smiled.  "Why don't you and I talk with Gregory first."

"Right,"  Gerard nodded.  "You know, I should have guessed he'd 'ave a hand in this.  I could hear his poison drippin' from Freddy's lips."

"I'll tell you this, Gerry."  Charles inhaled.  "If any harm has come to our George, Gregory will get that poison back a thousand fold."



Did you miss Chapters 1-73 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 75.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 74

Chapter 74: 
Wax and Wick 



“What is this place, then?” Gerard asked as he, Finlay and Charles approached a small stone cottage about a mile and a half from the main house.

“Huntin’ cottage,” Finlay explained. “Been here for centuries. First house on the land, actually. I remember the old master used to like to come out here. Funny thing is, he didn’t shoot.”

“Then, why’d he come out here?” Charles chuckled.

“To get away from the Duchess, I’d wager.”

“Never met the Duchess,” Charles shook his head.

“Gamilla did.” Gerard smiled. “Said the woman was a real terror.”

“That’s the truth, lads.” Finlay nodded. “Though last I saw her, I was a wee boy--maybe five, but I remember her like it was yesterday. She was fierce, the Duchess. I remember our pa told me to keep ‘way from her. Never could let the old master have a moment’s peace. No. Even here…” Finlay pointed to the cottage. “I recall that time she were here—just shoutin’ and eatin’ and growin’ fatter. She found the old master here one warm night. Don’t know how she made it all the way out here, she’d been stuffin’ herself so full o’ food. You could hear her screamin’ all the way up at the house. That was when she took the place over for herself. Said the Grange was too cold. Turned the whole household upside down movin’ her out here. At least, then, Sir Colin could get a little sleep in the main house on his own.”

“Did the Duchess always sleep in here after that visit?” Charles asked.

“Nah. She never came back after that time. Don’t think she ever returned to Scotland at all. Sir Colin and Lord Julian did many times. Well, he was Lord Julian, then. Still not used to callin’ him the Duke. Lady Barbara’d come sometimes, too. Not as much. She were too much like her ma.”

Charles nodded.

“Still,” Finlay continued. “She were a pretty lass. Is it true she’s dead?”

“We don’t know.” Gerard said quickly.

“But, the baby they call Colin…he’s her son?”

“Yes.” Charles replied softly.

“You…errrr…” Finlay winked at Charles. “You knew her, then?”

“I’d prefer not to talk about it.” Charles growled.

“Fine, fine. Sorry, lad.” Finlay nodded. “And, you, then, Gerry? You got eyes for the African girl, I see?”

“Maybe.” Gerard squinted.

“What about you, Finlay?” Charles smirked. “You got a girl?”

Finlay chuckled.

“Well?” Charles continued. “You seem to think you’re quite clever. Are you clever enough for a girl?”

“What do you think, Charles?” Finlay laughed.

“Don’t know, Finlay. That’s why I’m askin’. You aren’t the only one with questions.”

“Come on, Mate.” Gerard scolded Charles. “Don’t tease, ‘im. Maybe he’s like the masters, then. You know…”

“Oh, is that it?” Charles asked.

“Could be.” Finlay winked.

“Ah…” Charles and Gerard said in unison.

Finlay laughed. From his pocket he removed a large brass key which he used to open the cottage door.

“Sorry for pyring,” Charles mumbled.

“I ain’t got no secrets.” Finlay snickered. “Now, give the door a push, would ya?”

Gerry and Charles leaned on the door with their shoulders until it opened.

“Always sticks.” Finlay shook his head. “Don’t know why we bother to lock it.”

“If the door’s locked, I don’t see how Miss Barrett could have gotten in here.” Gerard grumbled. “’Specially if it’s so hard to open.”

“Aye, but if a strong-headed lass is lost out here, don’t ya think she’d find a way into a safe place like this—key or no?” Finlay responded.

“True.” Charles snorted. He stepped in the cottage and called out. “Miss Barrett?”

Hearing no response, Charles frowned. “Stupid cow. Got the whole household out lookin’ for her. Even the masters! She’s such a selfish bit of baggage, that one!”

Finlay looked at Gerard. “So, is it love or hate, then?”

“Pardon?” Gerard asked.

“All the time we been lookin’ for this lass, Charles here’s been grumblin’ ‘bout how cheeky she is and how rude and how useless. A man only says such things ‘bout a woman in two events. Either he loves her or he hates her. So, which is it?”

“Ask him.” Gerard grinned.

“Well, lad.” Finlay cocked his head to one side.

“I loathe her.” Charles growled.

“Sure ya do.” Finlay laughed.

“I do!” Charles scowled. “It’s not just me either. I know that Dr. Halifax hates her, too.”

“But, does the Duke?” Finlay asked.

“Dunno.” Gerard shrugged. “The Duke’s so nice to everyone, it’s hard to think he hates a soul. His Grace is always giving people a chance. Thankfully for both of us.”

“Sure, but Miss Barrett takes advantage.” Charles sputtered. “Look what she’s done! She’s made His Grace take care of her sick brother, but she’s rude right to his face. Right to his face! Kind as he is, too! And, she’s always doing selfish things like this. She thinks only of herself. Meanwhile, Gamilla is having to look after Colin on her own—she’s not even had a chance to get settled in her room, yet! But, does Miss Barrett care? No—she wanders out of the house all alone and, then, we all have to look for her!”

“Steady on, laddie.” Finlay chuckled. “Now, does His Grace know ‘bout this woman? Does he know she’s takin’ advantage?”

“I’m sure that the doctor’s spoken up ‘bout it.” Gerard nodded. “But, His Grace can’t imagine hurtin’ anyone’s feelin’s.”

“Killed a bloke not a month ago, though. Didn’t he?” Finlay smiled. “Maybe he don’t want to hurt no one’s feelin’s, but seems that he doesn’t mind hurtin’ a body.”

“How’d you know ‘bout that?”

“Folk talk.” Finlay shrugged. “I heard from one of the lads at Balmoral. So, did he do it? Did His Grace kill that fella?”

“He admitted to it.” Charles responded.

“That, to me, means he didn’t do it. Who’s he coverin’ for, then? That handsome doc? Is that it?” Finlay asked.

“What is it with you Scots?” Charles shook his head. “Don’t know your place.”

“Oh, look who’s talkin’!” Finlay laughed. “I saw you both with your masters—all smiles and jokes You’re more mates than you are valets. Who doesn’t know his place now?”

“Fine…” Gerard grumbled. “No, the Duke didn’t kill that fella. But, the doctor didn’t neither.”

“Gerry!” Charles spat.

“He were gonna keep at us ‘til he found out anyway.” Gerard shrugged. “Just like Mrs. North did ‘bout Colin.”

“You can trust us all.” Finlay said. “The folks in this house seen all sorts o’ things and ain’t said a word to no one. Maybe them lads at Bamoral are willin’ to talk ‘bout Their Majesties, but you’ll find us at the Grange to be a good deal more loyal.”

“I’m glad.” Charles replied, still looking around the cottage.

“She ain’t here.” Gerard shook his head. “Let’s keep lookin’.”

“Wait.” Charles squinted. He sniffed the air.

“What is it, lad?” Finlay asked.

“I smell wax and wick…” Charles walked over to a small candle stand and touched the taper. “This has been lit. It’s still soft.”

“No one’s been in here since two days ago when we readied the place for the master’s arrival.” Finlay raised his eyebrows. “Not one of us, anyway.”

“Miss Barrett has been in here.” Charles frowned. “I’m sure of it.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-73? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 75 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 74

Adrienne ignored Edward Cage’s threat and rushed to her husband who groaned on the floor.


“Cecil, mon cher.” She said, putting her hands on his face. “Are you hurt?”

“Not so terribly.” Cecil said, sitting up. He looked to Edward. “How dare you, Sir?”

“How dare I?” Edward laughed. “I’m not the one going into the home of my employer, telling tales.”

Adrienne helped Cecil to his feet.

“Now, take your whore and get out of my house.” Edward smirked. “I ought to terminate you for this, but I’ll never find another sculptor as good as you are—not quick enough, anyway.”

“Sir, you are unkind.” Cecil spat. “You may not say such things about my wife.”

“We all know what she is.” Cecil grinned. “Everyone in Marionneaux. Don’t you think we all snicker at you behind your backs? You come here with your gossip and your slander. You may want to consider how the gentlefolk in this town perceive you and your ‘wife’ before you start tossing out accusations about what goes on in other people’s families.”

“I do not deny my past, Mr. Cage.” Adrienne frowned. “You, on the other hand will not admit the truth about yourself. I would look any man or woman in Marionneaux in the eye and admit what I’ve done in my life, and I would tell them the truth about the circumstances that led me to that life. You, Sir, cannot look at anyone with anything but falseness. You deny that the child the sleeps in your nursery is one that you bought as if he were a sack of grain.”

Edward Cage narrowed his eyes. “What I do with my money is no concern of yours.”

“It is when there’s a human life involved!” Adrienne shouted.

“Your whore is feisty, Cecil.” Edward laughed.

Cecil began to charge at the man, but Adrienne held him back.

“Darling, no.” Adrienne said quickly. “His words are meaningless to me. After all that I’ve endured, he cannot cause me any pain. I know true pain. And, so will that baby when he realizes what sort of family he’s to be reared in.”

“Pain?” Edward grunted. “Look around you. This is one of the finest homes in the parish. Furthermore, I’m a wealthy man. That child will want for nothing. He will be my future. Holt is my second chance. Make no mistake. I can be honest about things. I know that my eldest boy, Orman, is a beast. I’ve seen what he does. That doesn’t mean I’m not a good father to him. Ask anyone in town if I’m a good father. Why, I’ve taken in my orphaned niece, Edolie!”

“So Orman can ill-use her!” Adrienne hissed.

“No matter what she’s here for.” Edward smiled. “She’s here, isn’t she? Better than being in some cold orphanage, I’d reckon.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Cecil growled. “What will the boy say when he’s older and learns that he was traded like some commodity.”

“He’ll never know.” Edward narrowed his eyes.

“So you admit it?” Adrienne asked.

“Yes.” Edward smiled. “You little witch, yes, I admit it. I bought the child. You’ve seen that dried out husk of a thing I call my wife! Do you think she could give me any more sons? Every man deserves a second chance and I aim to have mine. And, because I’m such a kind hearted man, I’m giving you two a second chance. Get out of my house. Get out before I kill you.”

“We are not finished!” Adrienne said, taking Cecil by the arm.

“Yes, Madame, we are.” Edward laughed. “I will see you both at the ball. Wear something saucy.”

“Come along, my dear.” Adrienne whispered to Cecil.

Cecil rubbed his jaw and nodded. They headed for the door.

“I’ll expect those figures to be finished a week before the ball, Cecil.” Edward smirked.

“You’ll have your statues.” Cecil hissed. “You’ll get everything that’s due you.”

Once outside the house, Adrienne studied her husband’s face. “You’ll be bruised.” She sighed. “Let’s go home and put a cool rag on your face to stop the blood from rising.”

“The blood has already risen, my dear.” Cecil said softly.

They walked silently down la Colline Cramoisie and returned to their own home.

“I must see how Fuller is doing. He’s been too long with Gamilla. You know how fussy he can get when he’s with her. Do come with me.” Adrienne said, climbing the stairs.

“In a moment.” Cecil said quietly. “I need a moment alone. I’ll be in the library.”

“Very well.” Adrienne sighed.

Cecil walked into his library and, once he was certain that Adrienne was upstairs, slammed his fists angrily on his desk. Furiously, he walked over to one of the tall bookshelves that lined the wall. Pushing aside a row of anatomy books, he removed a wooden case from where it had been hidden behind the tomes. He opened the case and glanced down at the pistol inside. Picking up the pistol he frowned. “Yes, Edward Cage, you’ll get all that’s due you.”

Meanwhile, at the Rittenhouse Mansion, tears rolled down Julian’s face as Mr. Punch whimpered. “Hurts, it does, Chum. Hurts bad.”

“I’m so sorry, dear Punch. I’d never wish to cause you pain. I hope you know that.” Robert said hoarsely. “I hate doing this to you, but it’s the only way.”

“Just be quick ‘bout it.” Mr. Punch whispered. “Me master’s not going to be happy when he sees what I done to his hand.”

“No, he won’t be pleased,” Robert nodded as he stitched the deep cut. “However, he’ll understand. Tell me, is Julian aware of what’s happening?”

“No.” Mr. Punch shook Julian’s hand. “I’m keepin’ it from him, I am. That’s me place, see. I keep the things what can hurt him away from him. That’s why he’s got me.”

“You’re a kind soul, Mr. Punch.” Robert said gently.

“Don’t know ‘bout that.” Mr. Punch gulped. “Here, you gotta be finished now.”

“I am.” Robert said, wrapping a bandage around Julian’s hand. “I apologize if it hurt.”

Mr. Punch wiped his eyes with Julian’s uninjured hand. He smiled at Robert. “Right. I understand. Just like me dream, it was. Body torn to shreds.”

“You should listen to your dreams, Mr. Punch.” Naasir said from the corner where he’d been standing since he’d returned with Robert’s bag.

“Not speakin’ to you,” Mr. Punch grunted.

“You mustn’t be angry with Naasir.” Robert coughed. “He had good reason to shield you from the fact that Arthur is alive. Dear Punch, he was only trying to protect you in much the same way that you protect Lord Fallbridge. In a way, you’re his master as Julian is yours.”

“Huh.” Punch grunted. He looked at Naasir. “Is that true?”

“Yes, Sir.” Naasir smiled.

“Tryin’ to keep me from getting me master in a stew of trouble by killin’ that wicked bloke?” Mr. Punch asked.

“That’s all I was doing, Sir.” Naasir nodded.

“I can ‘preciate that.” Mr. Punch smiled. “We’re still chums, then. I’d sing with you, now, I would, only I don’t feel much like singin’. Can we sing later?”

“Whenever you like, Mr. Punch.” Naasir grinned.

A faint knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

“If that’s the red-headed girl what always looks so hungry, I’ll hit her with a stick—hurt hand or no!” Mr. Punch growled.

“I suspect it’s Mrs. Rittenhouse come to chastise us for breaking one of her windows.”

“Ain’t she got no husband? Never seen him. If anyone’s gonna yell ‘bout broken windas, it outghta be him.” Mr. Punch grumbled.

“She does have a husband. I believe he’s here in the house somewhere…” Robert began.

The knocking persisted.

“Naasir.” Robert nodded.

Naasir opened the door.

Marjani entered carrying a large basket. She looked bright-eyed and pleased with herself.

“All stitched up, then?” Marjani asked.

“Yes.” Robert smiled. “He’ll be quite fine in a couple of days.”

“Good, good.” Marjani grinned. “Now, I’ve done brought somethin’ that’ll make you both smile and start to feelin’ better. But, you gotta keep it a secret. Understand? If Miss Rittenhouse finds out I done brought this in her house, she’d have an awful fit.”

The basket began to move, and a soft noise rose from it.

“Coo.” Punch’s eyes widened. “Did you bring us a baby?”

“Sorta.” Marjani laughed. “I thought you gents might like some company.”

She put the basket on the floor and opened it. From its wicker cage, a puppy jumped out and rushed to Mr. Punch, wagging its tail.

“Here!” Mr. Punch grinned. “What is it?”

“It’s a dog, Mr. Punch.” Marjani smiled. “Don’t you know ‘bout dogs?”

Punch knelt down and studied the wiggling puppy. He was the color of cream and had pointed ears.

“Gotta big head, it does.” Mr. Punch cooed.

Robert laughed.

“Looks soft.” Mr. Punch smiled.

“Dogs generally are.” Robert said softly.

“Never seen one a these up close.” Mr. Punch looked amazed at the animal. “I like it. See, there’s a dog in the panto, there is. Name is Toby.” He looked at the puppy. “What’s your name?”

“He don’t have no name.” Marjani laughed.

“Does now.” Mr. Punch grinned. “Toby.”

“Wherever did you get him?” Robert asked, his voice still rough.

“Dog over at Mr. Fontanals’ had a litter. This one was the runt. No one wanted him, so the poor thing just was always sittin’ ‘round the place, lookin’ sad. I done tol’ the overseer that I thought the two English gents might like to have him and he tol’ me I could take him.”

“Here,” Mr. Punch sat on the floor next to the dog who rolled over on his back and put his paws in the air.

“What’s he doin’?” Mr. Punch asked.

“He wants you to pet him.” Marjani smiled.

“I can touch him?” Punch asked.

“That’s what he’s there for.” Marjani chuckled. “Now, Dr. Halifax, you get yourself back in that bed. One of Mrs. Rittenhouse’s men’s gonna come up and fix this window in just a tick, but ain’t no sense in you catchin’ a chill now.”

“Was Mrs. Rittenhouse angry about the glass?” Robert asked.

“Oh, she don’t know. No reason for her to know.” Marjani winked.

Mr. Punch cautiously reached out Julian’s uninjured hand and pet the dog’s stomach.

“Say, he is soft. And, warm.” Mr. Punch grinned.

The dog wriggled as Mr. Punch pet him.

“Hullo, Toby, old chap.” Mr. Punch laughed. “You understand? Yer name is Toby, see.”

The dog rolled over and crawled onto Julian’s lap, licking his face.

Mr. Punch laughed wildly. “Here, he’s a right fine dog.” He hugged the happy creature who wagged its tail joyfully.

“Now, you play with him for awhile. But, when Mrs. Rittenhouse and her daughter get back from La Rue de la Marchands, I gotta get him outta here.”

Mr. Punch nodded.

“I’ll be bringin’ him back for to visit with you. ‘Til ya get back to your own house, he can stay with me at night.”

“Thank you, Marjani.” Robert said as she settled back into the bed. “That’s just what we needed.”

“I know.” Marjani winked.

She looked to Naasir. “You come with me. “

Naasir nodded.

“I’ll bring your man back soon, for true.” Marjani said.

“Take your time,” Robert smiled, watching Mr. Punch gleefully play with Toby.

Once outside in the corridor, Marjani shut the door and looked squarely at Naasir.

“Sendin’ me all those thoughts all mornin’, have ya?” Marjani grinned at Naasir.

“I have.” Naasir nodded.

“I’m willin’ ta help ya. But, we gotta be careful we don’t get caught.” Marjani’s smile faded as she spoke seriously.

“We must do what is written.” Naasir said softly. “We must complete what ‘The Great Man of the Rocks’ started.



Did you miss Chapters 1-73? If so, you can read them here.