A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Wild

"Come in,"  Morgana said shyly in response to the knock on her door.

She knew that William was on his way with her breakfast.  Violet had told her so--just before the young maid went to tend to Lennie.

Morgana was aware that being an accepted member of the family also meant that she'd have to interact with people more.  She had become unaccustomed to human contact.  For over a year, the only person she saw with any regularity was Ivy Blessum who treated her both as a beloved pet and as a wild animal.  Since she was being treated like livestock, Morgana had begun to think and act accordingly.  If Ivy thought of her as some sort of creature, that's how she was going to behave--sometimes lashing out with her pincers, scratching Ivy's thin skin with the roughness of her deformity.

Every so often, Jackson, Gregory or Hargrave, or even Causer, would look in on her in her cell.  Then, she really put on the act--the routine she'd learned so well working in curiosities shows and traveling fairs.  It had been an act--designed to separate cruel gawkers from their money.  After all, she'd been told so many times that all she had to offer was her grotesque appearance.  People weren't giving away their hard-earned coins to see a lady-like Lobster Woman.  They wanted a beast!  So, she created a wild persona to match her grotesquerie.  

Soon, however, the distinction between the "Lobster Woman" act and her own being became vague, and, when trapped in a dark cell for months on end, Morgana had no choice but to give up any shred of dignity she'd ever had.

Suddenly, in one evening, that changed.  Suddenly, she was Aunt Morgana with a doting niece and nephew and another nephew of sorts in Robert.  Suddenly, she was thrust into daily interaction with kind-hearted souls who genuinely seemed to wish to look after her--family and staff alike.  So sudden had the change occurred that Morgana wondered if she could completely bury that primitive act which had slowly become her reality.  A few days before, she was a monster mollified only by watching doll heads float in a large jar of oil.

It was easy enough to have a natural, and comfortable conversation with Punch.  Punch understood her, she knew that.  He was a curiosity of sorts in his own way.  That shared bond made their time together effortless.  So it was with Robert and Lennie, too--each of them outcasts in one way or another.

Accepting the friendships of Violet and Gamilla was also comfortable enough.  Gamilla, too, knew what it was like to be different, as well as to be trapped.  They were both new to their freedoms--more or less.  Gamilla's bright eyes and gentle manner soothed Morgana, and she also felt safe in the presence of the African woman who seemed to have powers beyond that of any other girl.  

Violet, too, afforded effortless chat.  She and Morgana had a peculiar bond, after all.  Morgana had known that immediately on the night she had carried the girl off--one of the final acts of the former wild woman who resided within her.  The two other girls--Ethel and Maude, were just as gentle as Violet.  They were no threat.  Ethel had even stayed behind to chat during one of her breaks from the nursery.  She was nothing to fear.

But, it was the men who made her nervous.  Punch and Robert had placed such faith and trust into their valets--Charles and Gerard.  If those two had earned the confidence of her nephews, Morgana could learn to do the same.  Still, she knew men looked at her differently.  

Morgana had always been aware that her face was pretty.  Though her body was mangled and upsetting to most, she could usually catch a man's eye if she was still and carefully obscured her... peculiarities.  Oh, but when they saw her body and her pincers--those few men who lent her a smile, their faces turned to looks of contempt, of disgust, of anger--as if her innocent look had somehow cheated them.

Yes, men confused and frightened her.  She'd learn to interact with Charles and Gerard, and, even with the handsome son of the cook--the poor lost young man.  

William was another thing all together.  After all, he wasn't one of the Duke's personally chosen staff.  He came with the Hall--just like that awful Gregory who had treated her so roughly.

She nodded to herself to steady her nerves.  She could do it--smile at the young man as he set down the tray.  She'd stay in her bed and hide her claws.  Surely he'd been told to be nice to her--that William.  Didn't Violet even say, "Oh, William--he ain't a bad lot"?  Yes.

Punch, Robert and Lennie had faith in her, confidence that she could be a part of the family.  Being part of the family required being part of the routine and that required that she deal with the staff.  

This knock on the door was merely a young man from downstairs come to bring her breakfast.

Or was it?

What was taking so long?  Hadn't she said that he could enter?

"Good heavens,"  Morgana whispered.  What if it was Lennie's fiance come to meet her?

No, no, she wasn't ready for that.  No, she was not ready to meet some strange earl even if he was to be wed to that lovely niece of hers.

Morgana felt her heart race.  "No.  I am part of the family."  She muttered.

"Come in,"  she repeated, certain it was surely just William with her breakfast.

Sadly, Morgana was mistaken.

William's hand did not open the door.  It was the rough hand of another man.  Another man whose contempt was all too evident.

Did you miss Chapters 1-76 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 78.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 77

Chapter 77: 

A Great Expense 



Dog Toby trotted over to join Mr. Punch and Colin. The terrier stoutly walked over to the large armchair where Punch sat with Colin on his lap. Reaching up with one paw, Dog Toby tapped the cushion of the chair, looking up with wide, expectant eyes.

“Here,” Punch smiled. “You wanna sit with us, then? You can jump.”

The terrier jumped up into the chair and, circling awkwardly a few times, wedged himself beside Punch, resting his head against the baby who gurgled happily.

“Did ya hear, Dog Toby?” Punch grinned. “Our Colin said a word today.”

Punch looked at the child. “You did, my Colin. You said ‘Punch.’ Can you say ‘Punch’ again?”

The child looked up and studied Punch’s face, extending his tiny hand to grab for Punch’s nose.

“Got me nose, did ya?” Punch chuckled.

“Puh…” Collin gurgled. “Puh…nnnn..ch.”

“Oh!” Punch whooped softly. “Oh, dear. You’re so smart, you are. So very wonderful. You’re such a good boy!”

“Punch…” Colin answered intently.

“My, my, my…” Punch grinned so broadly his face ached. “I’m so proud. You’re such a good boy.”

“Duuhhh…eeeee…” Colin squinted.

“What’s that?” Punch asked.

“Duh…eee…rrrr.” Colin said slowly.

“Dear?” Mr. Punch giggled.

“Dear Punch…” Colin cooed.

“How about that?” Punch sniffed, tears welling up in his eyes. “Dear Punch! You’re so good, my Colin. So good!”

Colin drowsily nuzzled into his father’s arms.

“You’re gonna say so many things, my boy.” Punch sniffed again. “And, I’m so proud that it’s me what was your first. We gotta teach ya how to say, ‘Father’ and ‘Uncle Robert.’ Though,” Punch paused. “He’s not really your uncle.” Punch thought about this for a moment—considering the fact that he, not Robert, was actually the child’s uncle. What a pity that the child couldn’t refer to both of them as “Father.”

“You know,” Punch began. “I used to come here with me own father.” Punch squinted for a moment. “Here, since you’re learning to talk from us, you’d best learn to talk correctly—not like I do, but more like Julian does. I’d best be careful, I’d wager, how I say things.”

Mr. Punch smiled softly. “You don’t know Julian. Will you ever understand? How’m I gonna…errr…going to explain to you that I’m so many different things. I’m your father, but your uncle. I’m Mr. Punch, but I’m also Julian, and…well…a few others.” He shook his head. “But, none of that is anything you need to know today.”

Colin yawned.

“Sleepy, then?” Punch nodded. “You had an exciting day. The air here is better for sleep than it is in London. Julian slept better here than he did in London—even in Yorkshire at Fallbridge Hall. Oh! I remember one night when we were here. Julian was about eleven years old. We come here…I mean, we came here without the Duchess—that was your grandmother. Your grandfather came here so he could treat the staff to a special day and he brought me…or Julian…but, I was there, too.”

Punch sighed. “It’s confusin’, I know.” He smiled, tickling the child’s stomach gently. “See, there was a tradition here. Don’t do it anymore. We don’t, I mean. We haven’t done it in many years, but Sir Colin always used to host the Servants’ Ball here. What a time we’d have—pipers and such wonderful food. Folks from the nearby estates would come and the servants would have a night to dance and make merry. Some years, even, they’d wear fancy dress. I remember one year where the servants dressed as lords and ladies and the lords and ladies dressed like footmen and maids. Those were good times. I’d watch from the gallery. See, Julian were too shy to go down with all them big folks.” He shook his head. “I mean with all of the adult people. Still, he’d watch and because he watched, I could, too. I’m sure you’d like it.”

Mr. Punch looked down to see that Colin had fallen asleep. Dog Toby had, too.

Punch nodded. “I wonder if maybe we ought to have a Servants’ Ball. These folk been waitin’ here for so long—all alone in this house, takin’ care o’ it. Just waitin’ for someone to come. They deserve a treat. Maybe we could bring Ethel and Jenny and Georgie and Vi from London. I don’t s’pose there’d be harm in shuttin’ up the house on Belgrave Square for a few days. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

Sinking down further into the chair, Mr. Punch looked up at the clock. “No tea, supper’s late. All cuz of Miss Barrett. Here,” he looked down at the sleeping child, “I wish you could tell me what you think of Miss Barrett. You seem to like her fine, and, I seen how nice she is to you. But, your Uncle Robert, he don’t like her so much. I don’t think the boys do either. Your chum Gamilla does.” Mr. Punch shrugged. “I thought she were a good choice. Seemed so. I know she’s got many worries, that one. Maybe this holiday will help her feel better, too. I know I already feel like me-self ‘gain.”

Chuckling softly, Punch whispered, “But, you’re sleepin’ and I’ll stop talkin’ now.”

Mr. Punch wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but after awhile, Robert came into the room.

“Well?” Punch smiled. “What of Miss Barrett?”

“She actually is ill.” Robert shrugged. “She’s feverish and her lungs are congested.”

“Would the fever make her act all strange like she is?” Punch asked.

“It very well could.” Robert nodded. “I’ve told her to stay in her room. Gamilla will take up her duties until she’s recovered.”

Mr. Punch nodded. “You still think somethin’s queer ‘bout the whole thing, don’t ya?”

“I do.” Robert frowned. “I don’t know what. But, I do. Let’s use this time while Miss Barrett is recovering to consider her continued employment with us.”

“Sure,” Punch smiled.

“How is our boy?” Robert asked, walking over to stroke Colin’s hair.

“He said ‘Dear Punch.’” Punch beamed.

“Did he?” Robert asked excitedly.

“Jus’ like you do.” Punch replied proudly.

“I wish I’d heard it.” Robert sighed.

“You will. He’s only just begun. You’re gonna hear a lot from him, I’m sure.”

Robert grinned.

“Chum, I’m hungry.” Punch whispered.

“I’ve no doubt.” Robert chuckled. “Mrs. Pepper almost has dinner ready for us. Charles, Gerard and Finlay have returned. I saw them when I passed through the servants’ hall. They were none too pleased to discover that Miss Barrett was in the house all the time. Charles looked especially put-out. He started to tell me something about a cottage on the estate, but Gerard interrupted him.”

“There’s a hunting lodge,” Punch nodded. “On the edge of the property. Been there forever—long before the Grange were built.”

“Ah.” Robert nodded. “Is that the stone building that I saw in the distance.”

“Yes.” Punch said. “Sir Colin would go there quite a lot. Funny you should mention it, I were jus’ tellin’ Colin ‘bout some of Sir Colin’s traditions.”

“Such as?”

“The Servants’ Ball.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a chance for the staff to have a bit o’ fun. Sometimes fancy dress. We’d hire folks from the town to serve and, then, the staff could have a night of their own. Usually, the gentry from the nearby estates would be invited to come. Everyone would dance and eat and drink.”

“Sounds charming.”

“It really was.” Punch smiled. “I were thinkin’, maybe we ought to do that—you know, as a reward for the folks here. We could send for the others from London.”

“That’s quite an expense.”

“True,” Punch laughed, “but, it ain’t like we don’t got ‘nough gold just sittin’ ‘round.”

“You’ll have to pardon my thriftiness.” Robert grinned. “I’m not accustomed to this sort of life.”

“It’s very Scots of you.” Punch teased.

“Actually, the staff does deserve a reward. Especially those from the London house. They’ve endured so much these few weeks and, the boys and Gamilla were especially good during your…illness.”

“So, we can do it?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Good, I’ll talk with Speaight and Mrs. North ‘bout it in the mornin’.” Punch answered excitedly.

“Still, we’d best not plan anything definite until we see how Miss Barrett comes along.”

“Right.” Punch agreed. A sly look crossed his face. “You’re gonna have to wear your kilt.”

“I rather guessed that.” Robert sighed.

From downstairs, the dressing gong rang.

“That’s for us.” Robert inhaled.

“Here, help me…” Punch looked at the child.

Robert lifted Colin from the chair and carried him to his bassinette. “Gamilla will be up in a moment.”

“I’ll stay with Colin while you get dressed. I’ll bet Gerry’s waitin’ in your room already.”

“Very well.” Robert answered. “I shall see you shortly.”

“And, we’ll eat!’ Punch said with relief.

“Yes.” Robert nodded. “I’ll be fast.” With that, he left the room.

Punch watched Colin sleep for awhile, petting Dog Toby who remained next to him.

The door from the adjoining room squeaked open as Charles entered.

“Your Grace?” Charles nodded as he came in. “It’s time to dress for dinner.”

Glancing at the child, Mr. Punch pursed his lips. “I s’pose if we leave the door open, it’ll be all right.”

“Gamilla’s on her way up, Sir.” Charles nodded. “She was just behind me.”

Punch rose from his chair and walked toward Charles.

“Did ya hear? Collin said his first words.”

“Gamilla told me.” Charles smiled. “Soon, he’ll be giving speeches in the House of Lords.”

“Not too soon, I hope.” Punch chuckled.

“Sir?” Charles said softly.

“What is it, Charles?”

“I’d like to discuss something with you.”

Punch frowned. “Sounds serious.”

“It is, Your Grace.”

“What’s it all ‘bout?”

“The safety of your family, Sir.” Charles replied.



Did you miss Chapters 1-76 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 78.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 77

Mr. Punch dropped the flannel that he’d been playing with and rushed to the recently-repaired window. Robert joined him. Together, they peered out into the dim light in the clearing below them. They could make out Marjani and Naasir running toward the edge of the property.


Mr. Punch opened the window.

“Mr. Halifax!” Marjani screamed again.

“Is she calling for me?” Robert asked, turning around to get his dressing gown from the footboard of the bed.

“Here, what do you think you’re doin’, Chum?” Mr. Punch grabbed Robert by the arm with Julian’s uninjured hand.

“I’ve got to see what’s happening.” Robert said. “What if someone’s hurt?”

“Won’t do havin’ you go out there in the cold—not in the condition you’re in.” Mr. Punch said firmly.

“Someone could have been shot, Mr. Punch.” Robert said quickly. “You heard Marjani calling for me.”

“You’re not the only Mr. Halifax ‘round here, now, are ya?” Mr. Punch shook his head.

“If it’s Cecil, then all the more reason for me to go.” Robert argued, coughing slightly.

“No. Ain’t gonna let that happen.” Mr. Punch answered. “I’ll go down.”

“Punch…” Robert began.

“Now, Chum, listen, I’ll behave me-self. Even pretend to be Julian, I will.” Mr. Punch responded. “Only, I can’t let you leave this room. I’ll come straight back and tell you what’s gone on.”

“If someone’s injured, you must come and fetch me.” Robert frowned.

“I will.” Punch said. “Now, I’d best get me-self out there.”

Mr. Punch hurried out of the room and ran through the passage. At the top of the stairs, he came upon Carling Rittenhouse who shrieked at him.

“Lord Fallbridge, did you hear that? Shots! Merciful Heavens, I don’t know what to do. My husband is in town. I’m alone here!” She cried.

“You’re not alone, Mrs. Rittenhouse,” Punch responded calmly in Julian’s voice. “I’m here. I shall go investigate. I will report back to you forthwith. I’m sure there’s nothing to alarm you.”

“Thank you, Your Lordship.” Mrs. Rittenhouse said in such a way that she seemed almost sincere.

Mr. Punch trotted down the curving staircase and slipped out the rear door of the mansion.

“Marjani!” He shouted into the clearing—using his own voice.

“Mr. Punch!” Marjani said. “Come quick!”

Marjani emerged from the darkness. She had her arm around the shoulders of Cecil Halifax who was supported on the other side by Naasir.

“Brother Chum!” Punch cried. “Say you’ve not been shot at!”

“No, no.” Cecil shook his head. “It was I who did the shooting. I tripped and turned my ankle.”

“Who were you shootin’ at?” Mr. Punch tilted his head to one side.

“I saw her.” Cecil grumbled. “I wanted to kill her.”

“Who?” Mr. Punch asked. “Me master’s sister what’s so rotten?”

“No.” Cecil shook his head, limping as he walked. “Iolanthe Evangeline.”

“Coo.” Mr. Punch gasped. “So, she is here in this strange town.”

“I saw her lurking.” Cecil panted. “I fired—three times.”

“Did you get her?” Mr. Punch asked.

“I’m not sure.” Cecil said. “She disappeared into the dark again.”

“Come on, Mr. Halifax, we’re gonna get ya up to your brother. He’ll take a look at that ankle.” Marjani said. “Naasir, you’re gonna hafta support most of his weight up them stairs. I’m not as strong as I used to be.”

“Of course, I will, Mrs. Caruthers.” Naasir nodded.

With little effort, Naasir and Marjani helped Cecil up to Robert’s room. On their way, they passed Mrs. Rittenhouse.

“Oh dear!” Carling Rittenhouse squealed.

“Mr. Halifax saw a prowler and fired his pistol.” Mr. Punch said calmly—speaking as he thought Julian might.

“Oh!” Carling gasped. “Did you catch him?”

“It was…” Cecil began.

Mr. Punch interrupted. “We’re not quite sure of that. I think we should all be thankful that Mr. Halifax is safe.”

“Yes, of course.” Carling nodded. “Thank you for looking after my property.”

“My pleasure.” Cecil panted—wishing to end the conversation.

“However, what were you doing out here in the dark?” Mrs. Rittenhouse asked.

“I was coming to see my brother,” Cecil answered quickly. “I brought the pistol along because we’ve had some trouble with prowlers lately.”

“I see.” Mrs. Rittenhouse nodded slowly.

“Miss Rittenhouse, pardon me for interuptin’, but Mr. Halifax’s ankle done got twisted and wants lookin’ at.” Marjani smiled.

“Certainly.” Mrs. Rittenhouse said. “Feel free to stay as long as you’d like. I will retire now.”

Marjani and Naasir helped Cecil into Robert’s room.

Robert gasped when he saw his brother. “Dear God, Cecil!”

“I’m fine, Robert.” Cecil said quickly, settling into a chair with Naasir’s assistance. “I’ve just turned my ankle.”

“Get his boot off.” Robert said to Naasir.

“What were you doing out there?” Robert asked, kneeling down to examine his brother’s ankle.

“I’ll tell ya what he were doin’.” Mr. Punch smiled. “He was shootin’ at the ‘ogress.’”

“Iolanthe Evageline was here?” Robert asked.

“On the Cages’ land.” Cecil winced as Robert pressed on his ankle.

“Good thing you had your pistol.” Robert muttered. “This is swelling quickly. Marjani…”

“I’ll get some cold rags.” Marjani nodded, going to the washstand.

“Cecil,” Robert began, “why were you on Mr. Cage’s land?”

“I was cutting through there to come here.” Cecil mumbled.

“When you yourself warned me not to trespass on the Cage’s property?” Robert raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you walk up the road on the red hill?”

“It would have taken longer.” Cecil said softly.

“Especially weighted down with your pistol.” Robert coughed.

“I have a right to carry my pistol if I want.” Cecil snapped. “Wouldn’t you? You know that Iolanthe’s henchmen are out there. And, now, we’ve seen the beast herself! I was correct to carry a weapon.”

“You weren’t coming here. Were you?” Robert asked.

Cecil sighed. “No.”

“Say, what were you doin’, Brother Chum?” Mr. Punch asked.

“I was going to retrieve Lady Barbara’s child.” Cecil answered flatly. “And to teach Edward Cage not to make a fool of my wife.”

“Cecil,” Robert sighed. “Didn’t you caution me just the other day about acting rashly?”

“I did.” Cecil nodded. “However, now I can understand your passion. I should have let you shoot those men when you had the chance. Now, their leader is afoot. If only I were a better aim. She just appeared out of the sugar cane. She moved too quickly for me to get a good shot.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Robert said softly, wrapping a bandage tightly around his brother’s ankle. “I’m grateful that Marjani and Naasir were out there to help you.”

“Here,” Mr. Punch grinned. “Seems like everyone but you and me, Chum, were out walkin’ in the night.” He looked to Naasir and Marjani. “Just what was it that the two of ya were doin’ out there in the cold?”

Naasir and Marjani glanced at each other quickly.

“Don’t tell me you were also trying to rescue Barbara’s child.” Robert rasped.

“We were not.” Naasir said honestly.

“What was you doin’, then? The two of ya both wantin’ to have the evenin’ to yourselves.” Mr. Punch asked.

Marjani spoke up. “We called upon the Holy One for guidance. We were going to stop the foolishness of those people for true.”

“Which people?” Robert asked.

“That man, Arthur, and Lord Fallbridge’s sister.” Marjani answered.

“How’d you aim to do it?” Mr. Punch’s eyes widened.

Naasir produced the vial of red powder from his pocket. “With this.”

“And what is that?” Robert coughed.

“Somethin’ more powerful than anything on this earth.” Marjani smiled.

“Did you use it?” Mr. Punch asked.

“Not yet.” Marjani shook her head.

“Will you show me what to do with it?” Mr. Punch asked.

She looked at Naasir who nodded.

“Yes, Great Man. It is time. The circumstances are too powerful for just the two of us.” Naasir smiled.



Did you miss Chapters 1-77? If so, you can read them here.