A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 89

Chapter 89
Lamb


"There now,"  Robert smiled as he watched Gerard prop up Gamilla in their bed.  "You just need to rest for awhile, and I think..."

"Your Lordship!"  Gamilla shrieked, bolting upright.

"What is it, 'Milla?"  Gerard grabbed his wife's hand.  "Is it the baby?"

"It's Miss Lennie."  Gamilla rasped, panting.  "She's hurt!"

"Gamilla..."  Robert began.

"Where?"  Gerard asked, fully believing his wife's second sight.  Robert believed, too, however, the remains of his scientific training never fully allowed him to accept such things without question.

"She's under the ground."  Gamilla answered.

"Like Miss Morgana and Georgie and William?"  Gerard asked.

"Yes, but..."  Gamilla shook her head.

"Is she with them?"  Gerard asked.

"No."  Gamilla replied.  "She's in a place with dead folk.  She's...she's in..."

Suddenly from the next room, Robert heard Punch call out wildly.  "Chum?"

"Stay here, Gerard.  Stay with your wife."  Robert nodded as he exited to the nursery.  Charles--who had returned there after helping carry Gamilla to the nursery bedroom--closed the door behind him.

Punch stood next to Charles in front of Maudie and Ethel--both out of breath, upset, and clearly frightened.

"Lennie is in the crypt with Violet."  Punch said as calmly as he could.  "And, it seems, so is Jackson."

"Your Grace, we...we was only tryin' to help."  Ethel said quickly.

"There's no time for that now."  Punch said a little more angrily than he'd intended.  He tried to soften his tone a bit.  "I know...I know...but, we must now all stay together as often as we can.  We're safer when...when we're unified, we are.  Ethel, you stay here with Colin.  Gamilla's not feelin' well.  Charles, would you come with me and Lord Colinshire at once?"

Charles nodded.  

"Ethel, you're in charge for now--in here.  Lock the door behind us and listen for Toby to let ya know if anyone's comin'."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"And, mention to Gerard where we went, if ya would."  Punch added.  "Tell 'im I want him to stay here to keep an eye on Colin and the women."

"I will."

"Where shall I go, Your Grace?"  Maudie asked quietly.

Punch's eyes flashed.  

"Stay in here, Maude."    Robert spoke up.

Maude nodded her answer, blushing.

Robert took Punch by the arm as they hurried out, followed by Charles.  "It's the oddest thing, Gamilla just now said that Lennie was endangered below the ground."

"If my sister is harmed in anyway,"  Punch growled.  "I will...I will..." He pressed his palms together as they rushed.

Suddenly, Punch stopped, causing Robert and Charles to stumble into him.  He wandered over to one of the low, consoles which lined the long walls of the passage.  

"Terribly sorry, Your Grace."

"No, no."  Punch shook his head.  "It's my fault."

"Why ever did you stop, dear Punch?"  Robert asked.

"For this."  Punch reached for a large figural bronze candlestick.  "If Lennie is harmed in any way, I shall tenderize Jackson's old flesh until he is as supple as a new lamb."



Did you miss Chapters 1-88 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 90.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 89

Chapter 89: 

Ample Opportunity 

“How could you leave me?” Ellen hissed when Finlay entered her room the following morning.

“What would you have me do, lass?” Finlay snorted. “What was I to do? Should I have said, ‘Sorry, Your Grace, but I’m going to need to get my half-sister, oh, and she’s yours, too, Sir, out of here because she’s hiding behind the screen’?” He frowned. “Or perhaps I could have just refused to leave when the doctor ordered me out of the room.”

Ellen scowled. “Do you know how long I waited?”

“Does it matter?” Finlay squinted. “Obviously ya got out, Ellen.”

“Four hours.” Ellen continued. “It took four hours for both of them to fall asleep. I could hear the lunatic Duke in there chattering to himself while the other one snored. Finally, I thought the two of them and the dog were asleep. Had they not been, they’re sure to have seen me.”

“If I recall, lass, it was your idea to go into the nursery last night anyway. Not as if you didn’t know the Duke’s room adjoined the nursery and that we were likely to be noticed. I warned ya. But, no, you couldn’t wait.”

“Wait?” Ellen snarled. “What good is there in waiting? The whole point was to listen to their insipid conversation.”

“And, did ya learn what ya wanted, Ellen?” Finlay chuckled. “All I learned is that the Duke still defends you and that he worries too much about his companion.”

“We heard him say in his own words that he was a dangerous lunatic.”

“No, lass.” Finlay shook his head. “We heard him say that when the two of ‘em met that he was wild, but that the doctor loved him anyway.”

“Hitting people with sticks. Throwing bodies into the sea.” Ellen said firmly. “That’s what he stated.”

“Well, we already knew that.” Finlay replied with exasperation.

“But, now we’ve heard him admit it himself.” Ellen smirked.

“And?”

“And,” Ellen grunted. “Now, it’s time to make the Duke into a wild man again.”

“Only he ain’t.” Finlay raised his eyebrows.

“Maybe not.” Ellen shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean that others know it. Let’s not forget, Finlay, before His Grace traveled to Aberdeenshire, he confessed to a murder.”

“A murder which he didn’t commit.” Finlay shook his head.

“Not proven.”

“But, true.” Finlay smiled. “You know all too well how true. And furthermore, Her Majesty knows that he didn’t kill that bloke. She sent word to Whitehall and made the whole affair disappear.”

“Officially.” Ellen frowned. “But, it’s still in the mind of the people. Adding fuel to the fire of rumors that the man is mad. And those who think he didn’t kill William Stover believe he lied to protect the doctor.”

“How long did it take ya to get that man’s blood from beneath your nails, Ellen?” Finlay grinned.

“Hush.” Ellen snapped. “Too long. This time, I won’t have to.”

“This time?”

“Yes, Finlay. It’s time for another mysterious death at one of the Duke’s residences.”

“Aye? Is it, then?”

“Yes.”

“Who’d ya have in mind? Charles? Gerard?”

“No.” Ellen smiled. “Closer to the family. Ha! Charles and Gerard! You’d never be able to overtake either of them.”

“I?”

“Oh, yes.” Ellen nodded. “I’ve done my piece. It’s your try now.”

“You didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout murder, lass.” Finlay shook his head. “Tryin’ to catch the eye of those two handsome blokes is one thing. That’s easy enough. Helpin’ you with your little tasks—that’s fine. But, I don’t aim to get blood on my hands.”

“You’ll do this, brother dear.”

“Will I, then?”

“I believe you will.”

“Is that so?” Finlay smiled. “How can you be sure?”

“You have no choice.”

“Don’t I?” Finlay smiled. “Do ya know who I saw when I went into the village this mornin’?”

“Don’t try to distract me.”

“I just thought you might be interested is all. Met my friend from one of the nearby estates.”

“A young footman no doubt.”

“No.” Finlay grinned. “A maid. Stupid girl and ugly as a rock, but she talks. Oh, how she talks. She was very happy to tell me how their household is at sixes and sevens preparing for the arrival of their master and mistress.”

“What’s it to me?” Ellen scowled. “What has any of this to do with your responsibility to me?”

“Not much.” Finlay shrugged. “I thought maybe my friend’s master might like to know you’re here.”

“Why?” Ellen narrowed her yes.

“Dunno.” Finlay chuckled. “It’s just that maybe the Castle Lensdown might need a governess if you decide to leave the Duke.”

“Lensdown?” Ellen’s eyes widened.

“Sure.” Finlay winked. “Oh, but you already worked for the Baron, didn’t ya? For…with…under…”

“He’s coming here?” Ellen sputtered.

“And what’s more, I mentioned it to the Duke’s favorite--Charles.” Finlay grinned. “I think he intends to tell the Duke. You know how these aristocrats are. They got a code. It would be terrible if the Duke didn’t invite the Baron and Baroness Lensdown to the Servants’ Ball.”

“How…how could you do that to me?” Ellen growled. “You know…you know what he’ll do if he sees me!”

“I know, Ellen.” Finlay barked. “So don’t be getting’ so high and mighty, dearie. You’d best remember that I’m older and smarter than you. Maybe I aon’t so educated as you, but I’m smart in my own way. I can make the invitation disappear before it’s ever written—as long as you treat me right, lass. But, if you continue to forget that we’re partners in this, I’ll open the door for the Baron, take his coat and lead him right to you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Shall we find out?” Finlay laughed. “Now, what were you sayin’ to me ‘bout murder? Surely you weren’t suggestin’ that I’d commit such a sin.”

“But, Finlay…” Ellen smiled. “This is a sin you’re sure to enjoy.”

“Oh?”

Ellen nodded. “I know you’ve been wanting to get your hands on this particular gent. What I am proposing would give you ample opportunity to fulfill your fondest fantasies.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-88 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 90.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 89

Naasir tapped gently on the warped door of the shack.


“Go ‘way!” Marjani shouted from inside. “We got sickness.”

“Marjani, it is I, Naasir. I’ve brought some gifts from Mr. and Mrs. Halifax and the doctor and His Lordship.”

The door opened a crack and Marjani peeked through. “Can’t let you in, Naasir.” She shook her head.

“I’m not afraid.” Naasir smiled warmly.

“Honey, we got sickness here. It’s not fittin’ for you to come in and risk getting’ it.”

“If it’s fitting for you to be in there, then, it’s fitting that I should be as well.” Naasir said gently.

Marjani opened the door.

“Thank you,” Naasir nodded, entering the cold shack. “There’s not even a fire in here.”

“What do we need a fire for?” Marjani answered exhaustedly. “Nontle and Kirabo are burnin’ up as it is.”

“What about you? You must be freezing.” Naasir took his coat off and placed it over Marjani’s shoulders. “Here, this will keep you warm.”

“What ‘bout you?” Marjani shook her head. “I can’t take your coat.”

“It’s my gift to you.” Naasir smiled.

“How ya doin’?” Marjani asked. “Heard you was burned in the fire when you rescued His Lordship.”

“I’m much improved, thank you.” Naasir smiled. “I will die in fire. I know that. Twice now, a fire has tried to take my life, and twice it has failed. The third time will mean my end, but not until I accomplish what has been written.”

Marjani nodded. “I understand. Mine will come in a wash of blue. I know this to be true. And, there ain’t nothin’ here that’s blue. All we got is the brown of the dirt and the red of my baby’s blood.”

“They are not improved, then?” Naasir asked, looking toward the cots where Marjani’s daughter and son-in-law lay—their chests rattling.

“No.” Marjani answered, tears welling in her eyes. “Such sufferin’. I didn’t think it possible that the Holy Mother would let such sufferin’ come to pass. Haven’t we all suffered ‘nuff? For their young lives to be cut like this…”

“Great suffering on this earth will mean that their salvation will be all the sweeter.” Naasir said, putting his arms around Marjani.

She wept into his shoulder for several minutes.

“Now,” Naasir said softly, after awhile. “Perhaps these gifts will make you all feel more comfortable.”

“Why are they sendin’ gifts?” Marjani wiped her eyes.

“Because they care for you.” Naasir smiled. “And, it is Christmas.” He pointed to the three-legged stool in the corner and gestured for Marjani to sit.

She did so, and Naasir knelt at her feet. From the large wicker basket that he’d brought with him, he produced a beautiful quilt with an intricate pattern of emerald green, gold, russet and cream.

Marjani’s eyes widened.

“Mrs. Halifax made this with her own hands.” Naasir smiled. “She told me to bring it to you with her thanks for all you did to care for the doctor and His Lordship.”

“It’s too fine,” Marjani shook her head.

“She would be offended if you did not accept it.” Naasir said firmly.

“For your children, she sent these sachets of lavender so that the room would smell sweet for them and so that their souls would be soothed.” He offered several sweet sachets to Marjani who placed them atop the quilt on her lap.

“How kind.” Marjani smiled.

“Mr. Halifax sends you a practical gift.” Naasir continued as he pulled a coin purse from the basket. “These will help you in the future.” He shook the bag so that the coins jingled. “It is his wish that you will be free one day. When you are, these will help you and your granddaughter start anew.”

“I can’t.” Marjani shook her head.

“You must,” Naasir said, placing the bag on her lap.

“Dr. Halifax has sent two things for you. The first is this medicine. He prepared it himself. It is to help clear the lungs and provide some relief in their breathing.” Naasir handed Marjani a small brown bottle. “The second is this Bible. It was his mother’s.”

“I can’t read.” Marjani said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Maybe so, but in you there are many words which will one day tell a tale of greatness and bravery. Perhaps your own hand will not write it, but your story will be told. This book is the first step in telling that tale.”

“I can never repay these kindnesses.” Marjani sniffed.

“Marjani, they are repaying you for your kindness.” Naasir smiled. “Now, Mr. Punch has sent you two things as well. The first is a gift of his own.” Naasir pulled a small brass bell from the basket—the bell that Julian had found in England before their journey.

“This bell was once worn on Mr. Punch’s hat when he was but a mere puppet. He sends it to you so that by hearing its jingle, you will know that you, too, will be free and transformed one day.”

Marjani smiled. “I miss Mr. Punch.”

“And, he misses you.” Naasir nodded. “The second is a gift of Mr. Punch’s selection based on what he thought His Lordship would want you to have.” From the basket, Naasir removed a small, red velvet box and handed it to Marjani. “Open it.”

With shaking hands, Marjani opened the box to reveal a fine cameo, set in gold and surrounded by small pearls. From the coral-colored center, a woman in profile looked regally toward the east.

Marjani gasped.

“This was made by Lord Fallbridge himself—every bit of it. Mr. Punch knows that his Lordship would want you to have this. He sends it with the heartfelt thanks of both himself and Lord Julian.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Marjani began to cry again.

“Say nothing, Marjani.” Naasir patted her knee. “I know what’s in your heart.” He rose and closed the basket. “Now, I must return to the Halifax House. Mr. Punch and the doctor will be expecting me.”

“Please tell them how…how…”

“I will.” Naasir smiled. “If you need me, you know how to reach me.”

“I do.” Marjani nodded.

Naasir gently kissed her on the forehead and started for the door. He paused. “I almost forgot.” He smiled. “This is from me.” From his pocket, he removed a red pouch. “You know what it is.”

With that, Naasir walked out into the cool evening.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Marjani placed the gifts she’d been given gently on the stool. Taking the red pouch, she tucked it under the mattress where her children lay.

“We done got some hope,” She wept.

Meanwhile, at Cecil and Adrienne’s house, Mr. Punch was absent-mindedly scratching the dog’s stomach as he watched Robert reading by the fire. Robert felt Mr. Punch’s gaze upon him and looked up, smiling.

“There are more pleasant things in this room to study than my face, dear Punch.”

“Dunno.” Punch shrugged. “You’re not so bad.”

“Is something on your mind?” Robert closed the book.

“Restless, I am.” Mr. Punch frowned. “Wanna get up outta this bed and do somethin’.”

“Remember when I was ill and you insisted that I be still and recover?”

“Hmm.” Punch grunted.

“Well, then…”

“Can we sing?”

“Not presently.” Robert chuckled. “My voice is not quite back yet. Besides, Fuller is sleeping up the corridor; we don’t wish to disturb him before Father Christmas arrives.”

“Oh.” Mr. Punch nodded as if that made perfect sense. He sighed. “Barbara and Adrienne sure been talkin’ a long time. Don’t suppose Barbara’s done nothin’ to her.”

“I don’t think so.” Robert shook his head. “If anything, Adrienne has influenced Barbara for the good.”

“Don’t know if that’s possible.” Mr. Punch frowned again.

“Well, we can hope.”

“Where’s Cecil?” Mr. Punch asked.

“I imagine he’s in the studio. He’s been trying to finish those figures he’s been working on in time for the Cages’ masquerade ball.”

“Wonder if he painted me head yet.” Mr. Punch squinted. “You know, me puppet head.”

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and see. Perhaps you’ll receive a surprise for Christmas.”

“Ohhh.” Mr. Punch cooed. “Here, someone’s comin’. Maybe it’s Adrienne.”

The door to the room opened.

Mr. Punch’s face fell. Instead of Adrienne entering, he was surprised to see Nanny Rittenhouse.

“Lord Fallbridge,” The Nanny smiled. “I’ve been so worried about you…”



Did you miss Chapters 1-88? If so, you can read them here.