A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 90

Chapter 90
Blood



"I say!"  Matthew shouted as Robert, Punch and Charles rushed past in him the Great Hall.  "What's all this, then?"

"Lennie is in harm's way."  Robert replied over his shoulder.

Now, Matthew, Earl of Cleaversworth could never have been described as a valiant man, nor a particularly exciting man.  He was, however, a loyal man, and furthermore, he was legitimately and truly in love with Lennie.

His long face fell--if possible--even further, and, if possible, became all the more pale.  "What?" He growled.

"It's...it's too much to explain right now, it is."  Punch panted, raising up his candlestick.  "Only, let's just say, the circumstances of finding our auntie were more complicated than we let on yesterday."

Matthew trotted after them.  "Where are you going?"

"To the family crypt."  Robert replied without breaking his stride.

"Has this anything to do with the trouble my valet got into last night?"  Matthew asked, keeping up with the other three, younger men with surprising ease.  

"Perhaps...probably, yes."  Punch answered.

"It's all rather a muddy mess at the moment."  Robert added.  "Just now, however, Lennie's safety is our priority."

They burst through the towering doors of the Great Hall and into the gnarled mist of the morning.

"I'm coming with you."  Matthew declared.

"If you wish."  Robert answered.  "The chapel is this way.  The crypt is beneath it."

The four men ran to the chapel--the only sound that passed between them was the crunch of their boots in the gravel and leaves.

When they reached the chapel, Punch's voice echoed throughout the gilded vaults.  "Lennie!"

"We're down here, Your Grace!"  Violet called out from below.

They hurried down the dusty crypt steps.

"Dear Lord,"  Matthew coughed when he saw Lennie laid out on the stone tiles of the crypt floor.

Charles went straight to Violet and unashamedly embraced her.  

"She's still breathin', but it's slow, and shallow."  Violet cried.

"What happened?"  Punch shouted.  "What did he do to her?"

"Scratched her...cut her hand..."  Violet sobbed.  "A deep cut."

"This...this is the result of a cut to the hand?"  Robert knelt at Lennie side, unwrapping the apron from Lennie's hand.  "With what did he cut her?"

"A comb.  The teeth musta been poisoned...like in 'Snow White.'"  Violet sputtered.  "He said it was the Duchess'."

"Pauline would have a poisoned comb."  Robert muttered.

"Who did this?"  Matthew bellowed with a passion that the others would never have thought him capable.

"Mr. Jackson."  Violet answered, wide-eyed.  "He was the butler, here, Sir."

"The one who was dismissed?"  Matthew inhaled.

"Where is he now?"  Charles asked softly.

"Dunno."  Violet replied.  "He ran off."

"He couldn't have gotten far."  Robert replied without taking his gaze from Lennie's hand.  "The man is older than time."

Robert finally looked up.  "This cut is already blistered and becoming infected.  I...I should have had the forethought to bring my bag.  We need to get this poison out of her."

"Chum?"  Punch began emotionally.  "Have you any idea what the poison is?"

"No."  Robert replied.

"What should we do?"  Punch choked.

"I don't...the poison is in her blood.  I can't know how much or how powerful it is.  We must extract the poison from her blood.  There are ways to do it.  However, this...this is not the most...well, this is not the most beneficial environment for it.  We need a clean place.  We should try to get her back to the Hall."

"If I could give her me own blood I would."  Punch gulped.

"As would I."  Matthew declared.

Robert squinted and nodded.

"Is that possible?"  Matthew asked.

Robert looked away cautiously.  "There have  been some successful transfusions of blood from one person to another.  I witnessed two or three at St. George's Hospital.  However, I saw many more which were abysmal failures, resulting in..."  He rose.  "Charles, dear Punch...help me carry Lennie back to the Hall, please."

"No."  Matthew stepped forward.  He bent down and lifted Lennie in his arms.  "I shall carry her."



Did you miss Chapters 1-89 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 91.  

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 90

Chapter 90: 

Real Things 

Robert sighed contentedly as he gazed at the clouds in the sky. The thick blanket which he’d laid out on the lush grass felt soft and warm under his back. Dog Toby lay next to Robert—the dog’s side resting against Robert’s.

Colin was seated between his fathers, playing with a soft toy which Gamilla had made for him. The toy—made of calico—was in the shape of a terrier. Colin cherished the little thing and felt most secure when it was with him. He would spend hours cuddling it, examining it from many angles and squeezing its cozy rag stuffing.

At the edge of the blanket, Mr. Punch sat cross-legged—a pad of paper in his lap—sketching carefully and meticulously. His tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth slightly.

“Look, Collin.” Robert said softly, pointing to the sky. “This cloud looks like your doggy. And, Dog Toby.”

Toby looked up for a moment before licking his left front paw and, then, settling his head down into the thickness of the blanket. Colin followed Robert’s hand with his eyes and gazed up at the sky. He seemed to recognize the canine shape in the clouds and gurgled in appreciation.

“Punch!” Colin chirped in his small voice.

Punch chuckled, glancing away from his drawing.

“Very good, Colin.” Robert smiled. “But, that’s not ‘Punch.’ That’s Dog Toby.”

Colin immediately lost interest in the clouds and returned his attention to his toy.

Robert sat up, expertly managing to not disturb Dog Toby.

“Julian used to do that.” Punch grinned. “Look at the clouds when we was here. He’d lie down on the roof of the tower and stare at the sky.”

“What did he see?” Robert asked.

“All sorts o’ things.” Mr. Punch answered thoughtfully. “Things what he loved and them what terrified him, too. Sometimes he’d see sweet bunnies. Sometimes there’d be horrible monsters starin’ down at him. It depended.”

“On what?”

“What real things he’d seen that day.” Punch shrugged.

Robert leaned over to look at Punch’s drawing. “Speaking of real things, what’s this?”

“Brooch.” Punch mumbled. “When Julian was ‘bout aged twenty-seven, I think, he’d planned to make a handsome brooch like a spray of flowers with a butterfly on it. All in diamonds.”

“He didn’t do it?”

“No.” Punch shook his head. “That were in the year 1840 when Julian first met Prince Albert. Her Majesty had invited Julian and Sir Colin to visit at Windsor for some such state dinner where there was to be a man what Sir Colin wanted to meet. Some bloke from Egypt what had been diggin’ for old things the way our pa used to. Her Majesty was just ‘bout to marry Prince Albert and it were then what Julian and the Prince met. Prince Albert was quite taken with Julian.” Punch chuckled. “Poor Julian were terrible nervous, but he did just fine. The Prince had seen one o’ the rings what Julian made for Her Majesty and liked Julian’s work so he asked Julian to make some fine jewels for Her Majesty what he could give her for their wedding. A fine parure of orange blossoms. Julian designed a lovely suite in gold and porcelain and from then on, the Prince always wanted Julian for special things what he didn’t want to give to Rundell and Bridge or, later, Garrard’s. Next came all them fine garter stars, and Julian used the diamonds what he planned for the floral spray brooch for a fine garter badge for Prince Albert.”

“Your memory is astounding, Dear Punch.” Robert smiled affectionately.

“Well, Chum. It’s been me job for over thirty years to be the one what remembers what happened with us.”

“And, you’ve done so well.” Robert replied. “Is this the brooch which Julian had planned?”

“Somethin’ like it.” Mr. Punch nodded. “Only I added a bit to it. See here? Instead of one butterfly, I put three. Two big and one small. It’s us. See? You and me and Colin. Like we’re butterflies what’s sittin’ on the flowers.”

Robert’s eyes grew moist.

“I’ll make ‘em tremblers. You know?” Punch continued. “On wee springs so they move like real butterflies. They’ll sparkle so. Remember them lovely diamonds what I received ‘bout a month ‘go? Fine white ones and yellow ones and blue ones and even some pink and orange. There’s two small red ones, too. I thought instead of all white like what Julian planned, we’d do this one in colored diamonds, too. That way it’ll be more…excitin’ and…modern. Them brooches of all white diamonds were quite fashionable in 1840, but these days, folk like more color.”

“You’re truly brilliant, my dear.” Robert smiled, wiping his eyes. “It’s just lovely.”

“You think?” Punch beamed proudly. “Thanks, Chum.”

“It’ll be something which Colin can one day inherit and remember this time together—if a baby can remember such things.”

“Sure he can.” Punch nodded seriously. “And, that’s what I were thinkin’, too. But, we’re gonna lend it to His Majesty first.”

“Are we?” Robert laughed.

“Well, yes.” Punch sighed. “When you was ‘xaminin’ Her Majesty before Prince Leopold were born, Prince Albert and me—since I got stuck with him—talked ‘bout the New York International Exhibition. See, them folks in America—they want to copy what Prince Albert done here with the Great Exhibition two years ‘go. His Majesty wanted to make sure that England were represented and he asked if I would design some pieces what we could send there. He asked for three. This’ll be one of ‘em. Funny thing is he didn’t give me much time. The Exhibition is in July. So, I gotta work pretty fast, I do.”

“So that’s what you’ve been laboring over?” Robert smiled. “I wondered.”

“Sorry I didn’t mention it ‘fore. Only so much happened between then and now, I guess I didn’t think of it.” Punch sighed again. “Funny, ain’t it? All them years I watched Julian from inside our body. Never thought I’d have to do any of this stuff me-self.”

“You’re incredibly good at it in your own right.” Robert praised his companion.

“You know? I really am.” Punch answered sheepishly. “I gotta confess, Chum, I got a real thrill when I saw them diamonds and, then, I recalled that brooch what Julian planned all them years ‘go. I think he’d approve.”

“I’m sure he’s very proud.”

“I hope so.” Punch answered. He frowned slightly. “I just hope that Prince Albert is good to his word. See, he promised that the jewels would be returned to me after the Exhibition. I trust they won’t be lost.”

“I’m sure they won’t.”

“I s’pect His Majesty’ll want to try to buy this one. It’ll be pretty special.”

“We won’t allow it.” Robert winked.

“He can have the other two, but this one means somethin’ to us.” Punch laughed and looked toward Colin. “I ‘specially want to use the blue diamonds cuz they been good luck for us.”

“It’s true.” Robert nodded. “Though if you’d said that when we first met, I’d have disagreed.”

“Sure, the Molliner Blue Diamond brought us sadness first. When Barbara stole it, I never thought we’d get it back. All them weeks of lookin’ for it and for her. All the pain I had from it—knowin’ it had been put in me puppet body for safe-keepin’ and then I let it be stolen. But, were it not for that diamond, you and me would never have been together. We’d not have met Gamilla or Charles or Gerry. And, then, ‘course, the diamond bought us Colin’s freedom.”

“You’d not be the man you are today.” Robert answered thoughtfully.

“No. I’d still be a lonely puppet in a cabinet and poor Julian would be locked up in his own cabinet of sorts—his fear, his uncertainty. But, now, here we are—a family. We lost the diamond, but it got is such much more.”

“Perhaps Sir Colin knew it all along.”

“Maybe he did.” Punch smiled. “Maybe our pa hid that diamond in Julian’s puppet knowin’ that one day it would be his salvation. Like all good things, we just had to suffer to get there.”

“I believe that’s true.”

“Look here,” Punch pointed to the drawing. “See this flower. It’s a lily. I put that in for Julian. It’s a peaceful thing and I think Julian’s at peace now.”

“I know that he is.” Robert nodded.

Suddenly, Punch shuddered as a breeze ruffled his dark auburn hair.

“Do you want my coat?” Robert asked.

“Nah.” Punch shook his head. “Thanks, Chum.”

“You look a little pale, Dear Punch.”

“The sun’s growin’ dim…” Punch shook his head. “I thought that…”

As Mr. Punch spoke, a shadow passed over their comfortable spot. The two men, Colin and Dog Toby looked up to see a dark-haired man standing over them.

Dog Toby began to growl as the man drew closer. He was tall and lean with thin lips and a long, sharp nose. His green eyes seemed narrow and cold and his face bore a pinched expression.

“Your Grace,” The man said stiffly.

Mr. Punch set aside his pad and colors and stood up.

“I’ve not seen you in so long.” The man continued. “Isn’t it strange? We’re neighbors in London, and, yet, I must come to Scotland to speak to you.”

Mr. Punch nodded, forcing himself to smile.

Robert rose from the blanket, too, bending over to pick up Colin.

As if by magic, Mr. Punch knew the man though he didn’t recall seeing him before—at least not in his present state.

“Dr. Robert Halifax,” Mr. Punch said—speaking in Julian’s manner. He gestured to Robert and then to the shadowy man. “May I present the Baron Lensdown?”



Did you miss Chapters 1-89? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 91 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 90

Robert rose from the bed and stood in front of it, blocking Nanny Rittenhouse’s view of Mr. Punch.


Toby pulled back his ears and growled.

“How did you get in here?” Robert asked.

“I simply told one of the girls in the kitchen that I was His Lordship’s nanny and dear companion when he was a lad. She gladly let me in when I suggested that I could bring him some comfort during his recuperation from that dreadful fire. I believe her name was Gamilla or something like that. Their names are so strange, you know. I can never keep track of which is which.”

“No doubt, our names seem strange to them,” Robert frowned. “Your sentiment is admirable—at least regarding His Lordship, however, presently, I am the only companion he needs.”

“I can help nurse him back to health.” The nanny continued. “I know all of his quirks. Of course, I do have my duties to think of, but I can come here in the evenings when the children have settled down. I do have a maid of my own at my disposal. She’ll happily take some of the responsibility if I were to spend some time here.”

“Miss Rittenhouse,” Robert said firmly, “I’m a physician. I think I’m perfectly able to look after His Lordship on my own.”

“Oh, but you’ve been so ill yourself, haven’t you? With your terrible infection… Surely, you’re as weak as a little kitten yourself.”

“We have a house full of servants at our disposal as well as His Lordship’s man, Naasir. We’ll carry on quite nicely. Thank you. And, good evening.”

“Your Lordship,” the nanny continued, straining her neck to see Julian/Punch behind Robert. “How are you feeling?”

“Believe me chum bid you ‘good evening,’ Agnes.” Mr. Punch answered.

“Agnes?” Miss Rittenhouse said as if insulted.

“That is your Christian name, ain’t it?” Mr. Punch grumbled, “If you can call anythin’ ‘bout you Christian.”

“Well, yes, but isn’t it so much nicer when we call one another by our formal names? I wouldn’t dream of calling you ‘Julian.’ Now, that’s not how I taught you to behave, is it? I don’t care how old you are, young man. You must continue to behave like a proper gentleman.”

“Ha!” Mr. Punch whooped. “Then, you’re a fool cuz there ain’t nothin’ proper ‘bout me. See, I ain’t a gentleman. Me chum is. And while he may be all polite and formal wit’ ya, I’m not against getting’ up outta this bed and hittin’ ya with something. So, you’d best do what he said only I’ll slap ya all the way back to your own house.”

“He’s fevered.” Nanny Rittenhouse exclaimed. “He always used to act like this when he wasn’t feeling well. Dr. Halifax, you see, I was correct. You need my assistance. Clearly, you’re not able to care for His Lordship properly.”

“Good evening, Miss Rittenhouse.” Robert said sternly.

“Mayn’t I stay and talk with His Lordship for awhile?” The nanny asked quickly. “It is Christmas. I think that reminiscing about his boyhood would cheer him so.”

“Bloody likely!” Mr. Punch shouted.

“Lord Fallbridge!” Miss Rittenhouse scolded him. “Such language.”

“I got more.” Mr. Punch grinned. “Bullox!”

Robert smiled. “Good evening, Miss Rittenhouse.”

“This won’t do. Dr. Halifax, it’s my understanding that you’re used to rough people—treating those poor indigents and charity cases that you do, but this sort of behavior is not acceptable in a nobleman. I can’t let you encourage it. Lord Fallbridge needs someone who understands his own kind.”

“You’re correct,” Robert nodded. “He does need someone who understands his own kind. You’re also correct, I am accustomed to rough people. I’ve learned quite a lot from them. Shall I show you what I’ve learned?”

“How dare you, Sir?” Miss Rittenhouse gasped.

“If you don’t get out of this room, I will physically remove you. I assure you that it won’t be pleasant.”

Mr. Punch laughed loudly. “That’s the way to do it.”

“I will return when the two of you are thinking more clearly.” Miss Rittenhouse responded in a quavering voice.

“Get your rottin’ carcass outta here!” Mr. Punch shouted. Toby barked.

The nanny hurried from the room.

Once she’d left, Robert smiled at Mr. Punch, “We’d best have a chat with Gamilla about whom she should and shouldn’t let in.”

“Here,” Mr. Punch grunted. “What’s she want, then? She wasn’t comin’ here outta kindness. Ain’t nothin’ kind ‘bout her.”

“No, Mr. Punch.” Robert shook his head. “This had all the makings of something Arthur has dreamed up.”

“What ‘bout that red-headed one? That Ulrika. They’re kin, she and the nanny.”

“They are. I wonder… What could Ulrika profit from having her cousin come here?”

“Dunno.” Mr. Punch shrugged. “She’s carryin’ on with Arthur, that one. Saw that they were thick as thieves when we were in the stables.”

Mr. Punch sniffed and hugged the dog closer to him.

“What’s troubling you, dear Punch?” Robert asked.

“Wanna go home.” Mr. Punch said, wiping his eyes. “Don’t like it here, I don’t. Nice big house in Belgrave Square just waitin’ for us—all me master’s things in it. Lots a room for you and me and Toby and me master to play. Just wanna go home.”

“We shall go home.” Robert said gently. “However, there’s ‘much to contend with here, first. There’s Barbara. The Molliner Blue is still missing. We must somehow find a way to retrieve Barbara’s child from those Cages. And, what of Iolanthe Evangeline? If she did, in fact, order Sir Colin’s murder, she’ll have to be dealt with.”

“I know.” Mr. Punch nodded. “Doesn’t make it feel no better.”

“I understand.” Robert said, returning to his seat at the foot of the bed.

They sat in silence for awhile until Robert cleared his throat.

Mr. Punch looked at him quizzically.

“God rest you merry, gentlemen,” Robert began in a clear voice.

Mr. Punch raised Julian’s eyebrows.

“Let nothing you dismay,” Robert continued.

“Here,” Mr. Punch smiled. “You’re singin’, you are.”

Robert nodded as he continued, “For Jesus Christ our Savior was born upon this day,”

Mr. Punch joined him.

To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray:
O tidings of comfort and joy,
comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy.

They sang together.

Toby wagged his tail.

Meanwhile, Ulirka met Nanny Rittenhouse on La Rue de la Colline Cramoisie.

“You’ve failed!” Ulrika hissed, shivering in the cold. “Arthur grab her arms!”

Arthur did as instructed—restraining the woman from behind. The nanny began to scream, but Ulrika clamped a freezing hand over the old woman’s mouth.

“I do not accept failure!”

Nanny Rittenhouse struggled, biting Ulrika’s hand.

Ulrika yelped and pulled her hand back.

“You’re a devil, Ulrika Rittenhouse!” The nanny spat. “I curse you! My prayer is that one day the fires of Hell will rise to the earth and take you—take you!”

Ulrika slapped Miss Rittenhouse sharply across the face.

“Get back in there and do as you were told!”



Did you miss Chapters 1-89? If so, you can read them here. And, come back on Monday, November 8 for Chapter 91 of Punch’s Cousin.