Showing posts with label Chapter 88. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter 88. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 88




Chapter 88
Teeth


"Madman!"  Lennie hissed as she pulled back her hand.  "Why on Earth would you do such a thing?"  She studied the palm of her hand.  Blood had begun to rise quickly and thickly from a small, but angry cut.

Violet rushed forward, grabbing Lennie's bleeding hand and wrapping it in her apron.  "It's a deep scratch, Miss."

"The teeth of this comb are very sharp,"  Jackson smiled, gently running them against the thin skin of his gray cheek.  "It was your mother's favorite."

"How could you do that, ya terrible old beast?"  Violet bellowed.

Jackson laughed, shaking his head.

"It's just a scratch, Vi."  Lennie whispered.

"Is it?"  Jackson smiled.  He leaned forward.  "Magic mirror in my hand..." he whispered.  

"He's a loon!"  Violet cried out.  She protectively took Lennie by the arm.  "Come, M'Lady.  We''ll wait for His Grace and His Lordship outside."

"Who is the fairest in the land?"  Jackson continued.

"I'm not leaving."  Lennie shook her head.  "This man is not welcome here.  This is my brother's estate.  I will not leave this man to roam it as he wishes--especially considering that he is undoubtedly complicit in myriad..."  She trailed off.

"M'Lady?"  Violet put her arm around Lennie's waist as Lennie's knees buckled.

"Vi..."  Lennie coughed.

"What have you done to her?"  Violet shouted, looking up.  However, Jackson was nowhere to be seen.

Gently lowering Lennie to the cold damp ground of the crypt, Violet spun about to see Jackson's shoes as they disappeared up the stairs in the chapel.

She hoped that he wouldn't make it out of the chapel without being stopped by the Duke and Lord Colinshire.



Did you miss Chapters 1-87 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 89.







Monday, July 16, 2012

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 88


Chapter 88: 
Functions and Freedoms 

Dog Toby rolled over and patted Mr. Punch with his left front paw, growling softly.

Robert tilted his head to one side. “What’s he telling you, Dear Punch?”

“Dunno.” Punch shrugged, sitting up in bed.

The terrier stood up and barked, pawing again at Punch.

“You need to go outside, dog chum?” Punch asked.

With that, Toby jumped off of the bed and ran across the bedchamber. He paused at the doorway to the nursery and began to bark.

Punch leapt from the bed. “No. He don’t need to go out. Somethin’ ain’t right.”

Punch hurried to the nursery, opening the slightly ajar door all the way. Toby trotted into the nursery and Punch followed behind.

“Here!” Punch snapped. “What are you doin’ in this room, Finlay?”

“Sir.” Finlay grinned, standing over Colin’s crib.

“What you doin’ in here?” Punch demanded, not bothering to affect Julian’s voice and mannerisms.

“I was passing by and thought that I would check on the child.” Finlay continued to smile.

“Why?” Punch narrowed his eyes. “Ain’t your place.”

Robert rushed into the room, standing behind Punch. The two stood in the darkened room in their nightshirts, their bare feet on the cold stone floor.

“What is this?” Robert asked.

“Says he wanted to look in on the baby,” Punch growled.

Robert frowned, looking around the room. “Light that lamp there.” Robert ordered, pointing to the tall oil lamp which stood on the table farthest from the crib. “I want to see our son.”

Finlay nodded, walking first to the fire and lighting a spill. He then went to the table to ignite the lamp which he carried over to the crib, illuminating Colin who had just awakened. Confused, the child began to cry.

“You woke him, you fool!” Punch spat, reaching forward to pick up his son.

“Finlay, please explain yourself.” Robert shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Halifax.” Finlay smiled. “I meant no harm. I…”

“Yes?” Robert raised an eyebrow.

“I was just making sure that the household was in order—as I do each night. And, well, Sir…I passed by the nursery and thought ‘bout the little laddie in here sleepin’. He’s such a fine lad and I…I like him so. Don’t have much to do with babies, Sir. But, I like ‘em. I imagine it’s a natural thing…a man my age. Ain’t gonna have no children, Sir. You know…”

Robert nodded.

“But, Sir, at forty, a man has paternal feelings. I…” Finlay’s smile faded slightly. “I just thought of the little nipper in here. I just wanted to look in on him. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Ain’t your place.” Punch repeated. “You’re not to come in here. Only Gamilla, and, when she’s better, Miss Barrett, should be in the nursery. You ain’t to interfere with the child!”

“Your Grace,” Finlay began. “I am sorry. It’s just that Gerard and Charles often come to the nursery. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Gerard and Charles can!” Punch snarled, cradling the child. “They know the boy. They known him since almost when he were born. He likes them. But, he don’t know you! You coulda scared him.”

“Again, Sir, I apologize.” Finlay said. “I’ve clearly upset you, and I certainly didn’t mean any harm.”

“Damn right, I’m upset!” Punch answered.

“So much so that you’re not yourself, Your Grace.” Finlay nodded.

Punch narrowed his eyes, realizing his mistake. He spoke carefully. “How I speak in my own home is not your concern, Finlay. Nor is it your place to comment on it. I realize that you’ve been without a master for quite some time, but clearly you don’t remember your place. You are here as a footman. In our household, Gerard and Charles outrank you. Charles is first footman and both he and Gerard are valets to the masters of the house. They have privileges and duties which you do not. You’re not to question their functions and freedoms. Nor are you to attempt to parrot them.”

“Your Grace, I’ve served on this estate since I could walk. You and I were boys together.”

“We were boys at the same time.” Punch scowled. “Not together. Longevity is no excuse for overstepping your bounds. And, certainly, it should indicate to me that you know better.”

“I am deeply sorry.” Finlay nodded. “I only wished to look at the child.”

“You are dismissed, Finlay.” Robert interrupted.

“Sir?” Finlay raised his eyebrows. “Do you mean I’m sacked?”

“No.” Robert shook his head. “I simply mean that you’re dismissed for the evening. You will, in the future, remember your place.”

“Yes, Sir.” Finlay nodded.

The three of them stood in silence for a moment.

“Well?” Robert bellowed.

“I…” Finlay began. “I thought I might extinguish the lamp and tidy up after you…after…”

“Finlay, leave this room at once!” Robert snapped.

“Yes, Sir.” Finlay nodded again. Hesitating slightly, Finlay walked slowly to the nursery door. He paused with his hand on the large bronze handle. “Please forgive me, Sirs. I meant no harm.”

Robert nodded as Punch turned his back on the man—still gently rocking the child in his arms.

Finlay left the room, closing the door behind him.

Robert knelt down and patted Dog Toby’s head. “You’re a good boy.” He told the terrier. “A very good boy.”

Finally, Mr. Punch smiled. “Sure he is. He loves his Colin. Always lookin’ out for ‘im.”

“I can’t believe the gall of the man.” Robert shook his head as he stood. “I can understand wanting to look at the baby, but…” Robert sputtered angrily. “To come into his nursery in the middle of the night—especially when the room adjoins the bedchamber of the master.”

Punch sighed, gently placing Colin in his cradle. “I s’pose he’s forgotten how to act when the house is occupied.” Punch frowned. “And, he heard me talkin’ like I do. I was so angry, I didn’t think…”

“Don’t let it trouble you, dear Punch. It was inevitable. This is your home. You may behave as you like without being questioned.”

“I know, but…” Punch sighed. “What if he talks to the others?”

“No doubt he will.” Robert shrugged. “It’ll all be forgotten in a day or two.”

“I hope so.” Punch mumbled, looking down at the child who had, once again, fallen asleep. He looked up at Robert. “Troubles me a bit how jealous he seems to be of Gerard and Charles.”

“That, too, is unavoidable. I suspect that Finlay rather fancies himself superior. You noticed how quick he was to remind you that he’d been on this estate all his life?”

“Yes.” Punch furrowed his brow. “But, to say we was boys together—as if that made us chums or somethin’.”

“Did the two of you…or, more accurately, did you and Julian play together as a child?”

“No.” Punch chuckled. “Julian didn’t play with no one—never.”

Robert nodded.

“You…” Punch began. “You believe him?”

“I do.” Robert said after awhile. “I don’t think he meant any harm. I believe he was definitely misguided, but I don’t think he meant to cause trouble.”

Punch thought for a moment. “Very well,” he said finally. He glanced at Colin again. “Maybe we’d ought to bring Colin in with us.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Robert smiled. “But, he’s just asleep again. Wouldn’t we wake him if we move him?”

“Prob’ly.” Punch sighed.

Robert bent down and picked up Dog Toby. “Come. Let’s go back to bed.”

Mr. Punch looked at Colin again.

“He’ll be fine.” Robert said softly. “Dog Toby obviously has a keen guard on the nursery.”

Punch nodded, walking over to extinguish the lamp.

“I’ll finish your story.” Robert grinned.

“Sure,” Punch replied as they walked back into the bedchamber. “But, let’s leave the nursery door open. Charles will be in before Gamilla, so we’ll both be up and dressed by the time she’s in.”

“Of course.” Robert said.

As Robert, Punch and Toby climbed back into bed, they were unaware that Colin still wasn’t alone in his nursery.

Behind the screen which shielded Colin’s toys and assorted paraphernalia from the rest of the room, Ellen Barrett crouched—frowning terribly. She had hidden herself when she heard the dog bark—leaving Finlay to fend for himself.

Ellen knew that should she come out from behind the screen, she’d have to walk in front of the light of the fire and that from their bed, with the door opened as it was, Robert and Punch could see her exiting the room.

She bit her lip in frustration and hoped desperately that the two men, and especially the little dog, would soon fall asleep.



Did you miss Chapters 1-87 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 89.



Thursday, November 4, 2010

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 88

Mr. Punch threw up Julian’s hands, “Lady Chum, I don’t mean to sound disrespectful only this girl is not the likes of one to be trusted.”


“Mr. Punch,” Adrienne said, without thinking, “It’s not my place to judge her. Even if she is speaking falsely, I know that deep in her heart, she must wish to be free of Iolanthe and her treachery. I can help her. I’m the only woman to escape Iolanthe and live to speak of it. It’s my duty to help this young woman.”

“Why do you call my brother, ‘Mr. Punch’?” Barbara asked, raising her eyebrows. “The doctor did the same. Why? When he speaks and acts this way, why encourage his mad behavior?”

“Oh, you’re a fine one to talk about madness.” Mr. Punch grumbled.

“Barbara, just as I will not judge you, I do not judge Mr. Punch or Julian. If you’d take the time to notice, they are, indeed, two different people. This man—that body—he’s your brother. I know that he loves you. Why else would he have come all the way across the sea to try to return you to your home and your rightful inheritance? He has shown you compassion, dear girl, the very least you could do in response is to show him the same kindness.” Adrienne answered softly. “That’s the greatest path to redemption.”

Barbara looked at Punch/Julian. Mr. Punch immediately recognized the hint of malice in her eyes. She turned her gaze back to Adrienne and said with an almost-convincing note of sincerity, “You are correct, Mrs. Halifax. I have much to learn from such a wise and thoughtful woman.”

“Adrienne,” Robert interrupted. “Don’t bring this woman into this house. It’s the same as leaving the door wide open to Iolanthe Evangeline!”

“At Christmas, all are welcome.” Adrienne said firmly. “Tomorrow we celebrate miracles. It would be vain of me to think that I was above opening my door to someone in need.” She looked at Barbara, “Now, come with me and we shall talk. Perhaps I can offer you some comfort.”

With that, Barbara and Adrienne left the room.

Robert rose and picked up Toby from the floor, placing him on the bed next to Mr. Punch. Robert sat cross-legged on the end of the bed and sighed.

“My brother’s wife is generous of spirit.” Robert said softly.

“That’s all well, I ‘spose.” Mr. Punch grumbled. “But, how can a person be gen’rous of spirit to one what ain’t got no soul?”

“Perhaps your sister can be rehabilitated.” Robert shrugged. “We did, in fact, come here for just that reason. Adrienne was correct on that point.”

“She ain’t me sister, Chum.” Mr. Punch shrugged. “Adrienne’s me sister where it counts. Barbara ain’t Julian’s sister no more neither. The girl what he held on his knee and sang songs to, she’s dead. No, she didn’t die in that fire. She died when she fell in with Arthur—maybe before. She’s too much like her mother, that one. She’s got the same coldness and ugly inside her. No, Barbara, Lady Fallbridge is dead, and what’s remainin’ is some shell of a thing what calls itself Barbara Allen. Sad, really. I s’pose she didn’t have no chance. Not with the things she had to live through. Least Julian had me.”

“What things, dear Punch?” Robert asked gently. “I’ve shared a bit of Cecil’s and my history, the pain we endured as children. Yet, neither you nor Julian has ever shared with me.”

“Julian don’t know ‘bout none of it.” Mr. Punch said, his shoulders tensing. He tickled Toby’s furry ear. “Pity, isn’t it that people ain’t more like dogs. Dogs want nothin’ only to be loved and fed and to play and have cuddles and such. Unless a dog is sick, he won’t want to do no harm to anyone. But, people, they don’t have to be sick to do awful things what hurt other people.”

“Those who hurt their fellow man are often ill, dear Punch.”

“But, not always. Seems to me that the largest lot of people will do evil just for the sake of doin’ it. Don’t seem right. They all can’t be sick.”

“Everyone is a little peculiar in his or her own way.” Robert responded.

“But peculiar ain’t the same as evil.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “If you don’t mind me sayin’ so, your mum was sick, weren’t she?”

Robert nodded.

“Only she never hurt nobody. Did she?”

“No.” Robert answered.

“So, seems to me that maybe the people that are thought to be sick might just be the right ones and then the rest—the big lot—are the ones what really are crazy. People are always callin’ me, ‘lunatic,’ or ‘barrmy,’ but is that so? Just cuz there’s two of us in here don’t mean that I’m wrong in the head nor that Julian is. Just means that he and I have a way of making a life. If more people had a ‘Mr. Punch’ to protect them, maybe there’d be less hurtin’ goin’ on.”

“You raise a valid point.” Robert smiled.

“So, then, sure, Julian’s scared a things—don’t like to go out, don’t like to be touched, don’t like to be ‘round people. No. But, he’s alive, he is. And, he’s got a mind and a soul. And, when he needs strength, he’s got me. He’s always known…always has…that he’s got me. Maybe he didn’t know like he does now that I’m what I am, but it’s all the better that he does.”

“You really care for Julian.” Robert sais gently.

“Sure, I do! He’s me master. I love him. He talked to me and trusted me. That’s why I was born in him. Without him, I’d not be. I’d just be some puppet what’s torn up in the sugar cane. Now, I’m a real man—in me own way. It’s better to be a real man some of the time than a puppet what can’t feel the softness of a pup’s ears or play with a baby or feel things like what I do. See, I learned to feel love for people other than me master. And, I learned that as much as I give him the strength what he needs, I got you to give me strength. And, I can help you, too.”

“You have on many an occasion.” Robert nodded.

“But, then you got the ones like Barbara and Arthur and that ‘Ogress’ what want to hurt all the time—just hurt. Dunno why, maybe cuz they been hurt. Barbara learned it from the Duchess, she did.”

“I’ve learned a bit about the Duchess of Fallbridge—from Julian and from things I’ve heard from other people in Belgravia.”

“She’s the one what started all the pain. And, when she grew bored of it, she hired that awful woman to make sure the pain never stopped.”

“The nanny.” Robert nodded.

“Yes—stinkin’ thing that she is.”

“What did she do to Julian?” Robert asked.

Mr. Punch shook his head. “Can’t say.”

“By saying it, you’ll release it. Perhaps it won’t weigh so heavily on both of you.”

“No, Chum.” Mr. Punch sighed. “I can’t.”

“I won’t betray your confidence.”

“Never thought you would.” Mr. Punch smiled, hugging the dog. “Only thing is, what with me master knowin’ ‘bout me and him and me gettin’ closer and closer, he might could hear what I say. Thirty years, I kept this for him. Thirty years, Chum. That’s too long to let him be hurt again.”

At that very moment, Ulrika Rittenhouse giggled as she pulled Arthur up the back staircase of the mansion.

“Quiet, then.” Arthur hissed. “Are you wantin’ your mum to hear ya?”

“Please,” Ulrika rolled her eyes. “By this point in the day, she’s passed out from her brandy.”

“Where’re you takin’ me?” Arthur whispered.

“To the nursery.”

“Don’t want to go to a nursery. What for?”

“That’s where one typically finds a nanny, isn’t it?” Ulrika laughed.

Ulrika grandly opened the nursery door and barged in, dragging Arthur by his hand.

Nanny Rittenhouse didn’t look surprised to see Ulrika, but didn’t look pleased to see her either.

“Miss Ulrika, if you’ve come for your brother, he’s in the schoolroom learning his verses. I’m afraid I can’t allow you and—that man—to stay in here. I’ve only just gotten Afton to sleep. She’s so fussy.”

“Arthur, you know my cousin, don’t you?” Ulrika said. “You were both employed by the Duchess of Fallbridge.”

“Not concurrently.” Nanny Rittenhouse sniffed. “Miss Ulrika, it’s not appropriate for you to associate with people of his class.”

“Isn’t he the same class as you?” Ulrika grinned. “And, yet, you and I share a surname. Isn’t it funny how one branch of the family tree is bare with poverty and the other is heavy with the fruits of wealth? I find it delicious that Mother employed one of Father’s distant relatives as a domestic. It’s too, too humorous, really.”

“I’m glad to amuse you,” Nanny Rittenhouse said dryly. “Now, please, Miss Ulrika, you must leave. I won’t mention to your mother that I saw you with this man, but you must go. I simply cannot risk waking Afton. She’s feverish again. Honestly, there’s nothing to interest you here.”

“Oh, yes, there is.” Ulrika shook her head.

“Do tell.” Nanny Rittenhouse sighed.

“You, my impoverished cousin. You interest me greatly. You’re in service to my family, are you not?”

“I am.” The nanny replied.

“Then, there’s something that I need you to do for me.”

“What is it?” The nanny lowered her eyebrows.

“I wish for you to help the lunatic Lord Fallbridge take his own life.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-87? If so, you can read them here.