Showing posts with label Chapter 91. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter 91. Show all posts
Friday, April 11, 2014
A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 91
Chapter 91
Silence Me
"The only way out o' this cavern, Miss," George shook his head, "is the way the brung us in, and that's closed up tight." He squinted further down the tunnel. "Unless we wanna walk further into the darkness--to 'Miss Charlotte's.'" He paused. "Beggin' your pardon, Miss, but, you're sure that's what you heard 'em say?"
"Yes." Morgana replied. "The bailiff--Causer--he spoke of 'Lottie's' place and many a 'merry night sneakin' past the whole prim lot under their sleepin' noses.' W...whatever that could mean." She sighed. "I take it that...that this is a tunnel which will lead us to the establishment of this Charlotte or Lottie or whatever she's called."
"She's a dollymop, Miss Morgana." William interrupted. He blushed. "Excuse me, please, for my coarseness."
"Oh, William, I heard worse in the traveling show." Morgana answered.
Georgie tightened the blanket around his nude body. "Miss, do you feel well enough to walk?"
"I n...never feel well enough to walk." Morgana answered. "However, I will walk."
"What's to say that this toffer is going to let us in when we go bangin' on the trapdoor to her bawdy house?" William exclaimed, letting his blanket slip a little.
Morgana snapped her pincers at him again, and he blushed, covering himself.
"Well, we can't likely stay here and wait to be flayed alive, can we, William?" Georgie barked.
"What's the difference?" William replied. "The three-penny-upright at the other end of the tunnel is a bosom friend of Causer and Hargrave, and it seems the vicar and Jackson, so why would she give us sanctuary? By now, she likely knows we're in here and to not let us out."
"Georgie," Morgana interjected calmly. "You were there, yes?"
"Yes, Miss." George answered shyly. "With Fred and Gregory last night."
"What other inhabitants has the...pl...place?"
"Women, best I recall. I don't really know. I was...I was drunk. I didn't do nothin', Miss. They'd gotten me drunk. I passed out."
"I'm not judging you, George." Morgana smiled. "I only wish to know our chances. If...if...it would be this Lottie who would greet us or some more...sympathetic soul."
"I couldn't say." Georgie shrugged.
"We're doomed." William wailed.
"Hush," George said quickly.
"But, we are, mate." William continued. "Look at us...we're all greased..."
"No, I mean, I hear something..." George whispered. "I think someone's comin'."
"Quickly boys, act...act as if you're still groggy." Morgana leaned against one of the dirty walls.
"It's too late for that, Morgana." Ivy Blessum hissed as the filthy trapdoor grated open and she descended into the cavern on the rickety make-shift ladder. "There's nothing down here to cushion the sound of these young voices."
"Ivy..." Morgana let out a sigh. "Let...Let these young men go. Th...this...this doesn't concern them. I c...c...can discern why you and your comrades want me, but..."
"Shut your gob, monster." Ivy growled. "Now's not the time to be noble. Don't you know? It doesn't suit you?"
"You can't speak to Miss Morgana that way!" George stepped forward.
"Miss Morgana?" Ivy laughed. "Two days in a fine bed and she's a lady? For all her life she was a curiosity, for a time after--my pet. Now, she's Miss Morgana? You'd do well to be quiet, lad. You know nothing of what you say."
"You will not silence me." George walked toward Ivy.
"I will." Ivy smiled, withdrawing a long knife from the pocket of her apron.
"I...I...Ivy!" Morgana screamed. "Stop!"
From Ivy's right side, William leapt forward in an attempt to grab the knife from her hand.
He toppled frail woman to the ground.
"You fool!" Ivy screamed.
"Run!" William shouted.
Ivy, however, was not keen on being defeated. Feeble and brittle though she was, she reached out with a bony hand and wrapped her fingers around Williams ankle, causing him to fall. She used his strength to pull herself up, and, towering over him, thrust the knife into his exposed chest.
Morgana and George stood, frozen in terror as William's blood mixed with the earth.
Did you miss Chapters 1-90 of A Recipe for Punch? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 92.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 91
Chapter 91:
“Baron,” Robert extended his hand.
“So, you’re the oft-discussed Dr. Halifax?” The Baron Lensdown answered—his face devoid of any expression either favorable or otherwise. He shook Robert’s hand.
“I am.” Robert nodded.
“You’ve been the talk of Mayfair.” The baron continued.
“Due to my involvement with the birth of Prince Leopold?” Robert responded.
“Among other reasons.” Lensdown replied. He looked to Mr. Punch. “Are you enjoying your holiday, Fallbridge?”
“Very much so, thank you.” Punch responded, imitating Julian.
“I hear you were quite ill when you departed.”
“I was.” Mr. Punch answered. “However, I’m very well now.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Lensdown nodded. However, he didn’t look very glad. He didn’t look as if he felt much of anything. “I do hope you’ll pardon the unannounced visit, Fallbridge. You see, I was walking and happened upon your estate. I hadn’t anticipated actually seeing you. After all, you’re not known for your love of the outdoors. I didn’t think you’d mind if I trespassed on your land. I’ve not been on this estate for nearly three decades. You may not remember this, Fallbridge, but I attended several garden parties here in my youth.”
“I recall.” Mr. Punch replied.
“Do you?” The Baron Lensdown sniffed. “You were always so remote—even as a boy. I could never be sure if you actually noticed anyone who was in attendance.”
“I am prone to notice more than is obvious.” Mr. Punch smiled.
“How long have you been in Aberdeenshire, Sir?” Robert asked, hoping to change the subject.
“I only just arrived, really.”
“Is the baroness with you?”
“Yes.” The baron replied, for once his face registered an emotion—a fleeting, slight frown.
“How long will you be staying?” Punch asked.
“Until Gertrude grows weary of the place.” Lensdown answered. He paused. “I understand you’ve employed my former governess--Miss Barrett.”
“We have.” Mr. Punch nodded.
The three men stood in awkward silence for several minutes.
“Why is the child out here with you, then?” Lensdown finally asked.
“We enjoy spending time with our son.” Mr. Punch grinned.
“Your son?” Lensdown squinted. “I don’t understand. Both of you?”
“Well, yes.” Punch replied firmly.
“As I understand it, Fallbridge, he’s not even really your son, let alone the doctor’s.”
“His parentage doesn’t matter to us, Baron.” Robert replied. “He’s as much the Duke’s son as he is anyone’s.”
“And apparently yours, too.” The baron deadpanned.
“Why not?” Robert demanded.
“I mean no offense, Doctor.” Lensdown said quickly. “Honestly. I’ve always had a tendency to speak without thinking. Forgive me.”
Mr. Punch nodded. “Of course. Say no more of it.”
“My initial inquiry was actually to decipher whether or not Miss Barrett was a suitable governess for the child. Since she is not here with him, I assume that she is not satisfactory.”
“She is ill,” Mr. Punch explained. “Our parlor maid…”
“The pretty African?”
“Yes.” Mr. Punch squinted. “Gamilla. Gamilla’s taken up Miss Barrett’s duties while she recovers. However, since Dr. Halifax and I both enjoy our time with our son, we decided he should join us while we took some air this afternoon.”
“Is it serious—Miss Barrett’s illness?”
“Not terribly.” Robert answered plainly.
“She was ill once when she was in our employ.” Lensdown began. “However, the reasons for that were…” He paused again. “You see? There I go again.” He cleared his throat. “Your Grace, I don’t mean to detain you from your comfortable scene. I shall carry on.”
“Baron?” Punch interrupted. “We are hosting the Servants’ Ball this weekend. Just as my father did. Since it’s tradition to invite the families from the nearby estates, please know that you will be receiving an invitation within the day.”
“We shall be delighted to attend.” The baron nodded. Still, he showed no true emotion—his face almost mask-like. “Thank you.”
“Good day, Baron.” Robert said quickly.
“Good day to you,” Lensdown replied. He took a deep breath and walked briskly away.
Robert gently knelt on the blanket and lowered Colin to a comfortable spot before sitting down himself. Mr. Punch joined them, absent-mindedly stroking Dog Toby’s fur.
“How is it possible,” Robert began, “that a man can be simultaneously bland and offensive?”
“Dunno.” Punch shrugged, happy to be speaking in his own manner again.
“You knew him when you were boys?”
Mr. Punch shook his head.
“Or, rather, Julian knew him?” Robert corrected himself.
“It’s odd.” Punch sighed. “I’m sure Julian and he were known to one another. After all, the two estates are so close, we must have. But, I don’t remember it ‘xactly. I knew who he was, but, don’t know how.”
“That’s rather strange since you seem to remember everything which Julian ever said or did.” Robert said softly.
“Maybe he were ‘round more before I developed in Julian.” Mr. Punch shrugged.
“Unpleasant chap.” Robert shook his head.
“Sure is.” Punch chuckled. “Imagine? Miss Barrett and him…”
“I’d rather not.” Robert smiled.
“Sorry I had to invite him to the ball.” Punch muttered.
“I understand why you did. If you hadn’t, it would have meant considerable offense. We won’t worry about it. There’s no reason to spend much time with him at all. We’ve many others who will be in attendance whose company we actually enjoy.”
Punch nodded.
“Let’s not allow it to spoil our day.” Robert continued.
“Nah.” Punch shook his head. “Ain’t to reason to.”
Robert picked up Colin and cradled him—looking again to the sky—as Mr. Punch returned to his drawing. Or, at least he tried…
Instead, he gazed out into the distance. For a moment, he thought he saw the Baron walking toward the old hunting cottage. Had he gone in? No. He couldn’t have. The cottage was locked.
Punch squinted again. He saw nothing ahead except the pines and the rolling hills.
Shrugging, he returned to his work as another chill tickled his spine.
Did you miss Chapters 1-90? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 92 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Punch's Cousin, Chapter 91
“Hurry up, Chum,” Mr. Punch giggled. “You’re chokin’ me, you are.”
“Terribly sorry, Mr. Punch.” Naasir smiled.
“Why do we have to wear these things, anyway?” Mr. Punch said frantically, tugging at his collar and cravat. “Not bloody comfortable and only slow ya down.”
“This is how a gentleman dresses.” Naasir responded, placing a ruby and pearl stickpin neatly into the folds of Punch’s crimson cravat.
Mr. Punch studied himself in the glass of the wardrobe. “Here, that’s a nice color, isn’t it?”
“Very nice.” Naasir nodded. “You look very handsome, indeed.”
“Oh,” Mr. Punch smiled. “Gotta say, that’s all Julian.”
“Nevertheless,”’ Naasir grinned. “Both of you look quite handsome.”
“You know, Chum,” Mr. Punch continued as Naasir helped him on with his olive green coat, “this’ll be me very first Christmas. Usually, Julian’s the one what gets to do the merry-making—not that he makes merry very often. Always so gloomy, me master. But, I gotta say, I’m right excited ‘bout the whole thing.”
“I can see that.” Naasir said calmly.
“Did you do what I asked?” Mr. Punch said.
“Yes, Sir, of course,” Naasir nodded.
“So, you got everythin’?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Mr. Punch sighed happily.
“I’ve even gotten the ribbon for Master Toby.” Naasir winked.
“Here.” Mr. Punch cooed. “I almost forgot. Toby!” He patted his leg and the terrier came running from his perch on the armchair by the window.
“Will you put it on him while I get me rings? Well, me master’s rings.”
“I will.” Naasir chuckled. He tied a deep green ribbon around Toby’s neck. The dog wagged his tail and tried to lick Naasir’s hand.
“Looks right proud, he does.” Mr. Punch said cheerfully.
“Be careful of your hands, Sir.” Naasir reminded Mr. Punch.
“Oh, the fingers are all right.” Mr. Punch smiled as he slipped Julian’s’ diamond ring on his left index finger and the ring set with a piece of the Molliner Blue on Julian’s right hand. “It’s just the palms what are hurt.”
“Just be cautious not to disturb the bandages.” Naasir said. “I’ve had to promise Dr. Halifax that if you’re going to come downstairs, you’re going to have to mind your wounds.”
“Worry, worry, worry.” Mr. Punch whooped. “It’s all fine, it is. Me legs itch like the devil, but it ain’t nothin’ that I can’t survive.” Mr. Punch looked around the room. “Now…”
“All of your parcels are already downstairs.” Naasir interrupted, knowing what Mr. Punch was going to ask.
“Fine.” Punch nodded Julian’s head. “Only not all of ‘em.”
“Yes, sir.” Naasir protested. “I brought them down earlier and placed them around the Christmas tree that Mr. and Mrs. Halifax decorated last night.”
“Look in the black leather case on the writing table.” Mr. Punch snickered.
“Have I forgotten something?” Naasir asked.
“No.” Mr. Punch whooped. “Only I want to make sure that you get a present for Christmas. Now, I don’t have nothin’ of me own to give. Still, I think me master would want you to have this.”
Naasir opened the case to reveal a gold pocket watch engraved with the initial “M.”
“It were me pa’s.” Mr. Punch said softly. “He gave it to Julian, and now I’m givin’ it to you.”
“Mr. Punch, it’s too fine, I can’t…” Naasir said.
“Sure you can. We want you to have it. I talked it over with me master. See, without you, we wouldn’t be here. You plucked us from that fire, you did. It’s only right that you should have somethin’ shiny to show you that we care ‘bout you.”
“I’m at a loss for words.” Naasir said, studying the watch.
“This way, you can always make sure we get to places when we’re ‘sposed to. Humans are so worried ‘bout bein’ places on time, they are.”
“I will treasure it.” Naasir gulped.
“Happy Christmas.” Mr. Punch grinned his wild grin.
A knock on the door signaled Robert’s entry.
“Well, then,” Robert said. “Mr. Punch, don’t you look fine? Are you ready to see the family?”
“I am.” Mr. Punch nodded quickly. “Only, one thing. Where’s his sister?”
“Adrienne has told me that Barbara declined the invitation to join the family this morning and prefers to stay in the servant’s hall.”
“Is that where she is now?” Mr. Punch asked.
“I don’t rightly know for certain. I spoke with Adrienne last night. Aside from Naasir, I’ve not seen anyone yet this morning. I know only that Adrienne let Barbara stay in one of the back cottages last night and that she declined Adrienne’s invitation.”
“Good enough, “ Mr. Punch nodded.
“Will that be all?” Naasir asked.
“Yes, Naasir.” Robert smiled. “I understand that the servants are making merry. You’re expected to join them.”
“Yes, Sir.” Naasir said.
“Well, then, go on and enjoy your morning. We’ll ring if we need anything.” Robert nodded.
“Thank you, Sir.” Naasir smiled. He looked at Mr. Punch. “And, Mr. Punch, please tell His Lordship that I will never forget this kindness.”
“He knows, Chum.” Mr. Punch smiled.
Naasir left the room and hurried to the servant’s hall to join the others.
“Shall we go see the tree?” Robert asked.
“Oh, please!” Mr. Punch said with the excitement of a child.
“Before we go down, I’ve something I want to give you in private.” Robert said slowly.
“Somethin’ for me?” Mr. Punch asked.
“Well, yes. It’s something for both you and Julian. Mr. Punch, I knew all along that you were different. Ever since the first day I met you at the clinic long ago when you were in need. I knew—somehow—that our paths would intersect. I didn’t know how much they would.” Robert laughed. “When I saw you again on The Hyperion, I decided that I would…help you. I hadn’t’ anticipated all of this…”
“Never heard you stumble with words before, Chum.” Mr. Punch said.
Robert chuckled. “I’m usually more eloquent than this. I’ve made my peace with the fact that, in you, I’ve got two friends—both quite different, but both somehow the same. I…” Robert reached into his pocket and removed a velvet pouch. “I want you to have this as a token of my admiration, my friend.”
Mr. Punch’s eyes widened. “It ain’t that Voodoo powder is it?”
Robert laughed, “No.” He smiled, “Here, I’ll open it for you.”
Robert opened the pouch and removed a sparkling stickpin. The tip of the pin was a gold oak leaf, set with a large diamond. “I’ve had this since I was a boy. When my father had his…troubles…he gave it to me for safekeeping. He told me that whatever I did, I was not to sell it because it had special meaning to him. You see, my mother gave this pin to him on the occasion of their wedding. It’s the finest thing I have. I’m not a wealthy man—not compared to the prestige of the Molliners and the Duchess of Fallbridge. So, this was the…well, the finest thing I could offer the finest friend I’ve ever had.”
Mr. Punch gulped.
“Will you accept it?” Robert asked.
“Sure, I will.” Mr. Punch said happily. “Only don’t you think it’s something Cecil might want to have?”
“I’ve already discussed it with him.” Robert answered. “He thinks it’s quite right for you to have it.”
“Put it on me, then.” Mr. Punch said quickly.
“You’re already wearing a pin.” Robert laughed.
“Take the other off.” Mr. Punch chortled.
“There,” Robert said, tucking the stickpin into Julian’s cravat. He removed the other and returned it to the jewel case.
“I feel like Naasir did,” Mr. Punch said, studying Julian’s reflection in the mirror. “I don’t know what to say, I don’t. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Robert nodded. “Now, everyone’s waiting for us and I can see that Toby is eager to participate in some Christmas cheer.”
“Me, too.” Mr. Punch smiled.
Robert opened the door. From downstairs, they could smell delicious foods and could hear the sound of Adrienne playing carols on the piano.
“There’s somethin’ down there for you, too.” Mr. Punch said as they walked down the hall. “Somethin’ from me and me master.”
“I’ve got everything I want.” Robert responded contentedly.
Meanwhile, a cold wind whipped across the Rue de la Marchands where Barbara waited between two brick buildings. She’d already missed the carriage that was to take her and Arthur to New Orleans. Arthur had not shown up. He was several hours late.
Barbara was fuming. “I simply cannot believe this…” She muttered to herself.
She gently set down the large bag that she was carrying. In it were her few meager possessions as well as the silver and jewelry she had stolen from Adrienne and Cecil’s house.
“No diamond, no husband, no child…” Barbara frowned. “No family.”
She considered returning to the Halifax house, but felt certain that they’d surely have discovered that she’d robbed them by then. Just as she was about to depart to find out when the next carriage would be leaving, Arthur staggered up to her—clearly intoxicated.
“Happy Christmas, Pet.” Arthur slurred.
“Where have you been?” Barbara hissed.
“Been a change of plans, Love.” Arthur laughed. “Big change of plans…”
Did you miss Chapters 1-90? If so, you can read them here.
“Terribly sorry, Mr. Punch.” Naasir smiled.
“Why do we have to wear these things, anyway?” Mr. Punch said frantically, tugging at his collar and cravat. “Not bloody comfortable and only slow ya down.”
“This is how a gentleman dresses.” Naasir responded, placing a ruby and pearl stickpin neatly into the folds of Punch’s crimson cravat.
Mr. Punch studied himself in the glass of the wardrobe. “Here, that’s a nice color, isn’t it?”
“Very nice.” Naasir nodded. “You look very handsome, indeed.”
“Oh,” Mr. Punch smiled. “Gotta say, that’s all Julian.”
“Nevertheless,”’ Naasir grinned. “Both of you look quite handsome.”
“You know, Chum,” Mr. Punch continued as Naasir helped him on with his olive green coat, “this’ll be me very first Christmas. Usually, Julian’s the one what gets to do the merry-making—not that he makes merry very often. Always so gloomy, me master. But, I gotta say, I’m right excited ‘bout the whole thing.”
“I can see that.” Naasir said calmly.
“Did you do what I asked?” Mr. Punch said.
“Yes, Sir, of course,” Naasir nodded.
“So, you got everythin’?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Mr. Punch sighed happily.
“I’ve even gotten the ribbon for Master Toby.” Naasir winked.
“Here.” Mr. Punch cooed. “I almost forgot. Toby!” He patted his leg and the terrier came running from his perch on the armchair by the window.
“Will you put it on him while I get me rings? Well, me master’s rings.”
“I will.” Naasir chuckled. He tied a deep green ribbon around Toby’s neck. The dog wagged his tail and tried to lick Naasir’s hand.
“Looks right proud, he does.” Mr. Punch said cheerfully.
“Be careful of your hands, Sir.” Naasir reminded Mr. Punch.
“Oh, the fingers are all right.” Mr. Punch smiled as he slipped Julian’s’ diamond ring on his left index finger and the ring set with a piece of the Molliner Blue on Julian’s right hand. “It’s just the palms what are hurt.”
“Just be cautious not to disturb the bandages.” Naasir said. “I’ve had to promise Dr. Halifax that if you’re going to come downstairs, you’re going to have to mind your wounds.”
“Worry, worry, worry.” Mr. Punch whooped. “It’s all fine, it is. Me legs itch like the devil, but it ain’t nothin’ that I can’t survive.” Mr. Punch looked around the room. “Now…”
“All of your parcels are already downstairs.” Naasir interrupted, knowing what Mr. Punch was going to ask.
“Fine.” Punch nodded Julian’s head. “Only not all of ‘em.”
“Yes, sir.” Naasir protested. “I brought them down earlier and placed them around the Christmas tree that Mr. and Mrs. Halifax decorated last night.”
“Look in the black leather case on the writing table.” Mr. Punch snickered.
“Have I forgotten something?” Naasir asked.
“No.” Mr. Punch whooped. “Only I want to make sure that you get a present for Christmas. Now, I don’t have nothin’ of me own to give. Still, I think me master would want you to have this.”
Naasir opened the case to reveal a gold pocket watch engraved with the initial “M.”
“It were me pa’s.” Mr. Punch said softly. “He gave it to Julian, and now I’m givin’ it to you.”
“Mr. Punch, it’s too fine, I can’t…” Naasir said.
“Sure you can. We want you to have it. I talked it over with me master. See, without you, we wouldn’t be here. You plucked us from that fire, you did. It’s only right that you should have somethin’ shiny to show you that we care ‘bout you.”
“I’m at a loss for words.” Naasir said, studying the watch.
“This way, you can always make sure we get to places when we’re ‘sposed to. Humans are so worried ‘bout bein’ places on time, they are.”
“I will treasure it.” Naasir gulped.
“Happy Christmas.” Mr. Punch grinned his wild grin.
A knock on the door signaled Robert’s entry.
“Well, then,” Robert said. “Mr. Punch, don’t you look fine? Are you ready to see the family?”
“I am.” Mr. Punch nodded quickly. “Only, one thing. Where’s his sister?”
“Adrienne has told me that Barbara declined the invitation to join the family this morning and prefers to stay in the servant’s hall.”
“Is that where she is now?” Mr. Punch asked.
“I don’t rightly know for certain. I spoke with Adrienne last night. Aside from Naasir, I’ve not seen anyone yet this morning. I know only that Adrienne let Barbara stay in one of the back cottages last night and that she declined Adrienne’s invitation.”
“Good enough, “ Mr. Punch nodded.
“Will that be all?” Naasir asked.
“Yes, Naasir.” Robert smiled. “I understand that the servants are making merry. You’re expected to join them.”
“Yes, Sir.” Naasir said.
“Well, then, go on and enjoy your morning. We’ll ring if we need anything.” Robert nodded.
“Thank you, Sir.” Naasir smiled. He looked at Mr. Punch. “And, Mr. Punch, please tell His Lordship that I will never forget this kindness.”
“He knows, Chum.” Mr. Punch smiled.
Naasir left the room and hurried to the servant’s hall to join the others.
“Shall we go see the tree?” Robert asked.
“Oh, please!” Mr. Punch said with the excitement of a child.
“Before we go down, I’ve something I want to give you in private.” Robert said slowly.
“Somethin’ for me?” Mr. Punch asked.
“Well, yes. It’s something for both you and Julian. Mr. Punch, I knew all along that you were different. Ever since the first day I met you at the clinic long ago when you were in need. I knew—somehow—that our paths would intersect. I didn’t know how much they would.” Robert laughed. “When I saw you again on The Hyperion, I decided that I would…help you. I hadn’t’ anticipated all of this…”
“Never heard you stumble with words before, Chum.” Mr. Punch said.
Robert chuckled. “I’m usually more eloquent than this. I’ve made my peace with the fact that, in you, I’ve got two friends—both quite different, but both somehow the same. I…” Robert reached into his pocket and removed a velvet pouch. “I want you to have this as a token of my admiration, my friend.”
Mr. Punch’s eyes widened. “It ain’t that Voodoo powder is it?”
Robert laughed, “No.” He smiled, “Here, I’ll open it for you.”
Robert opened the pouch and removed a sparkling stickpin. The tip of the pin was a gold oak leaf, set with a large diamond. “I’ve had this since I was a boy. When my father had his…troubles…he gave it to me for safekeeping. He told me that whatever I did, I was not to sell it because it had special meaning to him. You see, my mother gave this pin to him on the occasion of their wedding. It’s the finest thing I have. I’m not a wealthy man—not compared to the prestige of the Molliners and the Duchess of Fallbridge. So, this was the…well, the finest thing I could offer the finest friend I’ve ever had.”
Mr. Punch gulped.
“Will you accept it?” Robert asked.
“Sure, I will.” Mr. Punch said happily. “Only don’t you think it’s something Cecil might want to have?”
“I’ve already discussed it with him.” Robert answered. “He thinks it’s quite right for you to have it.”
“Put it on me, then.” Mr. Punch said quickly.
“You’re already wearing a pin.” Robert laughed.
“Take the other off.” Mr. Punch chortled.
“There,” Robert said, tucking the stickpin into Julian’s cravat. He removed the other and returned it to the jewel case.
“I feel like Naasir did,” Mr. Punch said, studying Julian’s reflection in the mirror. “I don’t know what to say, I don’t. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Robert nodded. “Now, everyone’s waiting for us and I can see that Toby is eager to participate in some Christmas cheer.”
“Me, too.” Mr. Punch smiled.
Robert opened the door. From downstairs, they could smell delicious foods and could hear the sound of Adrienne playing carols on the piano.
“There’s somethin’ down there for you, too.” Mr. Punch said as they walked down the hall. “Somethin’ from me and me master.”
“I’ve got everything I want.” Robert responded contentedly.
Meanwhile, a cold wind whipped across the Rue de la Marchands where Barbara waited between two brick buildings. She’d already missed the carriage that was to take her and Arthur to New Orleans. Arthur had not shown up. He was several hours late.
Barbara was fuming. “I simply cannot believe this…” She muttered to herself.
She gently set down the large bag that she was carrying. In it were her few meager possessions as well as the silver and jewelry she had stolen from Adrienne and Cecil’s house.
“No diamond, no husband, no child…” Barbara frowned. “No family.”
She considered returning to the Halifax house, but felt certain that they’d surely have discovered that she’d robbed them by then. Just as she was about to depart to find out when the next carriage would be leaving, Arthur staggered up to her—clearly intoxicated.
“Happy Christmas, Pet.” Arthur slurred.
“Where have you been?” Barbara hissed.
“Been a change of plans, Love.” Arthur laughed. “Big change of plans…”
Did you miss Chapters 1-90? If so, you can read them here.
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