A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 92

Chapter 92
Mercy



"What's all the shouting?"  Mr. Quick nattered as he descended the ladder.  "I can hear you all the way in the kitch..."  He stopped mid-sentence as he Ivy standing over William's quivering, naked, bleeding body--his alabaster torso marbled with blood.

"What have you done?!"  The vicar gasped.

"I've done what we had planned to do all along, one way or another."  Ivy snapped.

"Not now!"  Quick replied.  "Not now!"

"What difference does it make?"  Ivy shrugged, wiping the knife on her apron.

"Tremendous difference!"  Quick bellowed, forgetting his own warning to keep quiet.

Suddenly coming to his senses, he climbed the ladder again, partially, and closed the trapdoor.  Descending again, he stood menacingly over Ivy.  "Have you any idea what you've done?  The skin must be fresh!"

"He's not dead yet."  Ivy poked at William's sputtering body with the toe of her boot.

"Don't!"  George shouted.

"Keep your voice down, boy."  Quick scolded.

George took Morgana by the elbow and started toward the ladder.

"Don't try it."  Quick shook his head.  "Causer and Hargrave are both up there.  They'll beat you both mercilessly, and do worse to the Lobster Woman, if they see your faces."

"Scum,"  George growled.

"Do you think you intimidate me?"  Quick laughed.   "Snarling like some beast--like a wolf or a bear?  Do you know what you are to me right now?  You're a poor, naked little boy at my mercy.  You, this dying lad and your monstrous female companion.  Now, you could overpower me and try to escape, or, you could rely on me to help you."

"Help us?"  George barked.  "You're going to skin us like fish!"

"Quiet!"  The vicar warned.  "You make it sound so cruel.  "When truly, it's an act of kindness.  Look, boy, you're just a servant.  You and this sick, little man here.  And, well...do we even need to address all that's wrong with Morgana?  We will liberate your souls so you may reside with the Lord and your bodies will be put to better use.  It's a kindness, you see.  It's a blessing.  You should be thanking us."

Quick inhaled deeply.  "Now, Ivy, please help me stop William's bleeding so that we might keep him alive until we can perform the procedure properly."

"It's too late."  Ivy smiled.

Quick frowned.

"While you were talking about the Lord, the lad gave up the ghost."  Ivy laughed.

"This won't do."  Quick stamped his foot.  "He's useless now."

"We can get another boy."  Ivy shook her head.  "Or better yet, a girl.  There are some lovely girls at the Hall.  The mandrake Duke brought some pretty ones from London."

"Don't you touch them!"  George shouted.

"We cannot use a girl, not for the skin.  I've explained this to you already, Ivy."  Quick spat.

"Well, then, we can get one of the farm lads."

"Too rough."

"Oh!"  Ivy's eyes brightened.  "There's a visitor.  He brought a man.  He's young."

"Of course..."  Quick nodded.  "I saw him.  He'll do.  I'll have Causer get him tonight.  Don't think, Ivy, that this absolves you of the sin of your mistake."

"Certainly not."  Ivy scoffed.

"Jackson will not be pleased by this."  Quick continued.

"Doubtlessly."  Ivy smirked.  "Mr. Quick, you've not even asked about me.  The lad knocked me over.  I've been injured.  I'm a sad old woman, you know."

"I know."  Quick nodded.  "And, I am concerned for you, Ivy.  This is why I've decided to take your continued safety in consideration."

"Have you?"  Ivy leaned in.

"Yes."  Quick replied.  "You shall stay down here with your dear Morgana and this lad...and this dead one.  That way, we'll have no more trouble.  And, you won't have to harm yourself climbing up and down and up and down."

"You're going to leave me here?"  Ivy hissed.

"As an act of mercy, yes."  Quick nodded.  He turned to walk to the ladder, pausing to add.  "Jackson has just returned from the crypt.  We have him nicely tucked away.  He managed to...well, let's say he managed a surprisingly poetic stab at the forgotten daughter.  However, now, the fey Duke will be all the more incensed.  He and his mary-ann are, at present, at the crypt, no doubt, wailing in grief.  Given the proximity, we must be quiet--you understand.  They're sure to be stopping by for explanations and questions etcetera.  We mustn't give them any more than is necessary.  So, Ivy, I leave the management of this...situation...in your capably bony hands."

"You can't leave me here."  Ivy pleaded.

"It's an act of mercy, as I said."  Quick smiled.  "For all of us."



Did you miss Chapters 1-91 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 93.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 92

Chapter 92:
Until the Harvest 



Finlay grinned as he opened the door to the Hunting Cottage.

“Victor,” he cooed.

“Hurry up and shut the door, Finlay.” The Baron Lensdown snarled. “Your masters are just outside. Do you want them to spot me?”

Finlay shook his head. “Those two don’t ever see anything. They’re too busy with the baby or the dog or the Duke’s puppets or whatever fool thing has preoccupied them.”

“Nevertheless.” Lensdown shrugged.

“Sit down, Victor.” Finlay smiled.

“You’re not to address me as ‘Victor.’” The baron said stiffly.

“You never minded before.” Finlay chuckled.

“I mind now.”

“When I met ya, you were called ‘Victor Geddes.’ It’s still your name. Isn’t it? Even if you are the Baron Lensdown now.”

“You’ll address me as a footman would address a Baron.” Lensdown continued.

“Will I?” Finlay winked. “We shall see.”

“If you’re going to be difficult, Finlay, I can easily leave presently.”

Finlay sighed. “When did you become so haughty?”

“When I married Gertrude.” The baron replied.

“You shoulda stayed with me.” Finlay growled.

“A footman?” Lensdown shook his head. “My appetites would not be satisfied by a footman’s wages.”

“Does Gertrude satisfy all your appetites?”

“Never mind.” Lensdown answered.

“Did my sister?” Finlay frowned.

“Ellen served her purpose.” The baron replied. “She amused me. Never did I think that she’d be so useful to me.”

“That remains to be seen.” Finlay shook his head.

“Finlay, you’re the one who summoned me. You’ve made promises, Finlay. I’ve kept my end of the bargain, now I need you to satisfy your pledge.”

“What’s your hurry?”

“You know very well what my hurry is.” The baron snapped.

“Be patient, Victor.” Finlay smiled. “We’re almost there. You spoke to the Duke, then?”

“Your masters invited me to the impending ball.”

“Good.” Finlay nodded. “There’s just one more bit remaining and you shall have your reward.”

“What’s to stop Ellen from devouring you?” Lensdown sniffed. “You know she’s quite mad.”

“I know exactly how dangerous my half-sister is. And, I also know what a lying sow she is. She thinks I’m convinced that she’ll protect me when all is said and done, but I know that the moment she has what she wants, she’ll cast me aside…or worse.”

“Worse, I’d wager.” The Baron muttered.

“With you on my side, however,” Finlay laughed, “we’ll make sure that the vicious lass gets a taste of her own poison.”

“I simply want what you’ve promised me, Finlay.”

“You can have it, and so much more.”

“I don’t desire more.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.”

“Very well,” Finlay scowled. “This evening, we’re expecting the remaining servants from Belgrave Square to arrive—a scullery maid named Ethel, a kitchen maid called Jenny, a carriage man called Hutchinson and a page by the name of Georgie. Georgie is the cook’s son…”

“What has this to do with me?”

“If you’ll shut your gob and let me finish, I’ll tell you.”

“Continue, then.”

Finlay took a deep breath. “The Duke has gone to considerable expense to bring everyone here for the Servants’ Ball. He’s quite pleased with himself, thinking that he’s continuing his idiot father’s legacy of kindness and that he’s doing something so grand for the staff. He’ll certainly be preoccupied this evening when the others arrive. No doubt, he’ll wish to welcome them himself. And, wherever the Duke goes, the Doctor goes.”

“This is all fascinating.” The baron sighed.

Finlay ignored the man. “Charles and Gerard—the valets—think that the Duke will wish to address the staff when the others from London arrive. That will mean that the African, Gamilla, will be alone with the child while everyone else is occupied. I will open the garden entrance and leave it for you.”

“Where’s the nursery?”

“It’s just next to the Duke’s bedchamber at the top of the first flight of stairs. It’s the second door on the west side.” Finlay answered.

“Where is Ellen?”

“Her room is on the lowest floor—at the far east side of the house.” Finlay grinned. “Everyone else will be in the Servants’ Hall.”

“How will I know when the Duke is out of the way?”

“I shall light a candle in the center window of second floor of the front tower.” Finlay explained.

“And, I’m to wait in the shrubbery?”

“I don’t care where you wait as long as you arrive on time.”

“What if I don’t?” Lensdown snarled.

“Your wife will receive a letter from a friend informing her that her husband is debauched.” Finlay sighed. “But, let’s not worry about that, Victor. You’ve only one little task which I’m sure you’ll find most free of difficulty, and, if I remember you correctly, most agreeable. And, then…well, you’ll never have to worry about anything again. Not Gertrude, not Ellen, nor, even the Duke of Fallbridge.”

“You know,” The baron replied. “He doesn’t seem to recall a thing. It’s as if the whole episode has been erased from his mind.”

“He’s mad.”

“I sometimes wonder if I had something to do with it.”

“What’s this?” Finlay smiled. “A conscience?”

“I shouldn’t have done it.” The baron sighed. “I knew that I should’t have done it.”

“Which part?”

“Any of it.” Lensdown shook his head. “I didn’t know the boy was watching.” He grumbled. “But, once I discovered that he’d seen the whole thing—I didn’t have a choice. How was I to know that he’d end up a lunatic?”

“It wasn’t your doing entirely.” Finlay answered gently. “After all, it was, as I recall, his nanny’s idea.”

“Rittenhouse always liked me.” Lensdown nodded. “It was she who suggested I travel to Yorkshire. I’d written her of the…incident. I wondered if the boy remembered what had happened. She told me that he had never mentioned it, but that he was a sneaky, furtive thing. She suggested that he was biding his time before he told Sir Colin. So, at her suggestion, I went to Fallbridge Hall, and, followed her instructions. Still—it pains me every so often. I can’t help , but think…” He paused. “I will always owe her a debt of gratitude. Whatever became of her?”

“She was killed.” Finlay grinned. “When the Duke was in America.”

“Did he kill her?”

“No.” Finlay shook his head. “No. It was another party.”

“How tragic.”

“One reaps what one sows, Victor.”

“Is that true of you?”

“Yes.” Finlay nodded. “But, I shall dance until the harvest.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-91 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 93.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 92

Barbara shoved Arthur against the cold brick wall.


“Why’d you want to do that, Pet?” Arthur smirked. “I’m here, ain’t I?”

“Twelve hours late!” Barbara spat. “And, what do you mean that we’ve had a change of plans?”

“I mean that we ain’t goin’ to New Orleans just yet.”

“Yes, we are.” Barbara said firmly. “I’ve promised Iolanthe. She’s expecting me!”

“She’s also expectin’ the diamond. Ain’t she?”

“She is.” Barbara narrowed her eyes. “And when I find it, I’ll give it to her—as promised.”

“How you gonna find it when you’re on your back in New Orleans?” Arthur laughed.

“I’ll come back here and look for it!” Barbara hissed. “You could help me, you know. Instead of carrying on with Ulrika, you could help me by finding the damn thing.”

“Tut, tut.” Arthur clucked his tongue. “Such language from a lady.”

“Listen, you. You’re my husband. We’re in this together.”

“That we are, Pet.” Arthur smiled. “And, I must say that I’m a little hurt that you don’t have more faith in your husband. Don’t you think I’ve been looking for that lovely diamond?”

“No.” Barbara frowned. “I think you’ve been with Ulrika.”

“And what would you say if I told you that I know where it is?”

“You lie. You couldn’t possibly.”

“But, I do.” Arthur winked. “I know exactly where it is. And, what’s more, I aim to get it. So, you just gotta be patient.”

“Patient!” Barbara growled. “What do you think I’ve been all this time? Now, tell me. Where is it?”

“Safe with Ulrika…” Arthur pointed up La Colline Cramoisie to the Rittenhouse Plantation which stood high upon the red hill. “Right there in that house.”

“How?” Barbara’s eyes widened.

“Don’t matter how.” Arthur spat. “Just matters that I know where it is and how to get it.”

“She told you? Ulrika told you that she has the diamond? Why? What does she want?”

“She thinks I’m under her spell, that one. She thinks I’m gonna do whatever it is she wants. Well, let her think it. Once, I get my hands on that rock, we’re off to our future—you and me!”

“What does she want you to do?” Barbara asked.

“Not much.” Arthur grinned. “Only make sure you and your barmy brother are kept forever quiet. But, see, what she don’t realize is that you and me—we’re the real partners. She don’t know that I’m foolin’ her.”

“Forever quiet?” Barbara’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, Pet.” Arthur smiled. “We’ve got help.”

Meanwhile at the Halifax house, Mr. Punch sat on the floor with baby Fuller on his lap and Toby curled up next to them.

“Look, little Chum,” Mr. Punch said—wide-eyed—look at all them candles and sparkly things in the tree. Ain’t it, somethin’!”

Fuller gurgled happily and slapped his tiny fists against Julian’s legs. Mr. Punch tried not to flinch. He didn’t mind that the burns still hurt. Holding the baby was worth it.

Adrienne swept past them and sat on the divan. Her shimmering green silk gown fluttered against the floor as she walked.

“I must say, I’m quite fortunate to be surrounded by all of these handsome men.” She smiled at her husband.

“You’re kind, my dear.” Cecil smiled. “My brother is the better looking of the two of us.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Adrienne flirted with her husband. “I prefer a gentleman with a little more meat on his bones.”

“Cecil’s got plenty of meat on his bones.” Robert teased. “And more to come by the smell of that breakfast in there.”

“You could do with a little nourishment, little brother.” Cecil grinned.

Gamilla hurried into the room and cleared her throat. “Beggin’ your pardon, Mrs. Halifax.”

“Gamilla, you should be in the servant’s hall enjoying your Christmas morning. We can tend to ourselves.” Adrienne said sweetly.

“I will, Mrs. Halifax. I jus’ wanted you to know that I can’t find the silver trays nor the coffee set.”

“They must be in the sideboard.” Adrienne smiled.

“No, ma’am.” Gamilla shook her head. “We can’t find them anywhere. And, what’s more, Miss Allen is gone.”

“Miss Allen?” Cecil frowned.

“Barbara.” Gamilla nodded.

“Adrienne, I told you that if we let that woman stay on our property…” Cecil began.

“It’s quite all right, Gamilla.” Adrienne said, holding up her hand. “We’ll worry about it later.”

Gamilla hurried off.

“Adrienne…” Cecil began.

“If Barbara took our silver, we’ll buy more silver. She obviously needs it more than we do.”

“She’s Lady Fallbridge!” Cecil grumbled.

“We will not worry about it on our son’s first Christmas.” Adrienne interrupted him. “It’s also Mr. Punch’s first Christmas. Let’s not forget.”

Cecil took a deep breath. “Very well. However, we shall discuss this later.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Adrienne laughed. “Now, shall we get down to the business of exchanging gifts.”

“Here!” Mr. Punch whooped. “I’m for that.”

“Since Fuller has already received his gifts, I think it’s only proper that Mr. Punch should be the first.”

“Already got a gift, I did.” Mr. Punch beamed, showing off his stickpin.

“And it looks very good on you.” Cecil winked. “But, that’s from Robert. Adrienne and I have something quite special for you.”

From behind the piano, Cecil removed a brightly-colored box which, if it were not covered in festive paper, might have resembled a casket.

“That big thing is for me?” Mr. Punch asked.

“For you and you alone, my dear Punch.” Adrienne said happily. “Cecil and I have been working on it for days.”

Cecil set the box on the floor in front of Mr. Punch.

“Shall we open it, Fuller?” Punch asked the baby who clapped his hands.

Very carefully, Mr. Punch removed the top of the box and stared inside. Tears rose in his eyes.

“I…” Mr. Punch stammered. “I…can’t believe it.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-91? If so, you can read them here.