A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 94

Chapter 94
Fit Enough


Mr. Punch grunted and nervously dug the heel of his boot into the thick carpet of Lennie's room.

"Steady on,"  Matthew said unconvincingly.  "You know Lennie.  She's...I say, she's the strongest woman I've ever known."

Punch nodded, looking at his sister who lay on her bed, unconscious, being examined by Robert who was assisted by Violet.

"If you'd rather, I will gladly give her my blood."  Matthew volunteered.  

"No,"  Punch frowned.  "I am not bothered by that.  I would give anything for her, I would.  Also, Robert says it should come from a relative.  I'm all she's got.  Other than Colin and Morgana, who's a blood relative.  I'm the only one, I am, fit 'nough to give of me own blood."  His gaze wandered.

"We'll find your Aunt,"  Matthew continued.

Punch scratched his ear and nodded.

"I say, Punch, I can't imagine what you must...well, what you must be thinking right now.  Your house all upset as it is."

"Worry for Lennie, Matthew."  Punch answered.  "Whatever else--whatever else has happened I've brought on myself.  I should never 'ave come back here, I shouldn't.  I should never have brought Lennie here.  I should have told her that there was nothin' here for her that I couldn't have told her.  We'd finally reached a point of peace at home and..."

"Still, you found your Aunt here."  Matthew suggested.  "That's something."

"Yes."

"Punch?"  Robert called out.

"Excuse me,"  Punch nodded to Matthew who remained on the other side of the room.

Mr. Punch joined Robert and Violet.  "How is she?"

"She showed signs of coming out of it for a few seconds,"  Robert answered.  "Her eyes fluttered and her lips moved, giving me hope, but now, she's become colder and, I fear that the poison has taken hold.  I think we must act quickly."

"How do we begin, Chum?"  Punch asked emotionally.

"We must insanguinate her so that we may immediately replace her blood with yours."

Punch winced.

"I know what that means to you."  Robert said softly, putting his hands on Punch's shoulders.  "I understand what you must be thinking.  Surely you must recall how your mother died.  How she was bled, and then hanged."

Punch closed his eyes.  "She deserved it.  Lennie does not deserve this."

"It's the only way I can think to save her."  Robert answered.

"When a body is bitten by a snake, they say to suck out the poison and spit it out."  Punch said quickly.  "Maybe, Chum...maybe..."

"We can't..."  Robert shook his head.  "It's already running through her body.  It's in her veins, dear Punch."

"What do ya need me to do then?"  Punch inhaled.  

"We will need Gamilla, if she's well enough."  Robert replied.  He turned to Violet.  "Vi, will you, please, go to the nursery and see if Gamilla is able to come here.  If she's not, you'll have to assist unaided."

Violet nodded and went off on her task.

"Chum," Punch began.  "We've always...ya know..."

"My dear,"  Robert interrupted.  "I make no promise.  I love Lennie, too, as if she were my own sister as well, and I will do all that I can to preserve her."

Punch nodded.  "Only, then, tell me what to do."



Did you miss Chapters 1-93 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 95.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 94

Chapter 94: 

This Time, Louder 

“I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it.” Ethel whispered as she and Jenny followed the other staff from Belgrave Square into the Great Hall of Grange Molliner.

The two girls scanned the soaring room with its elaborate mouldings, stained glass windows, monumental staircase and dramatic vaults. At the end of the hall, seated on either side of a fireplace with a firebox so large it could have been a doorway, the Duke and the Doctor smiled as the group approached.

The mantelpiece was a majestic work of carved stone the likes of which neither Ethel nor Jenny had ever seen. A massive work of buttery yellow stone, the mantel was carved with grand figures of St. George and the dragon—one on each side of the hearth. The dragon rose behind the Duke’s throne-like chair while St. George peeked out from behind the doctor’s.

The army from Belgravia walked slowly and respectfully through the Great Hall led by Mr. Speaight. Gerard and Charles marched behind the butler with Mrs. Pepper following them. Violet walked next, with Ethel and Jenny behind as Georgie Pepper marked the end of the parade.

Punch and Robert rose and Mr. Punch cleared his throat, setting his expression into the regal visage he affected when acting as the Duke of Fallbridge. He spoke, clearly and in Julian’s voice.

“Welcome, everyone, to Grange Molliner. I’m most pleased to have all from our home in London here together in Scotland.” He looked toward Jenny, Ethel, Georgie and Violet. “I trust that the journey was not too taxing?”

“Oh, no, Sir.” Ethel spoke up. “It were lovely. Rode on a train and all, Sir. Never rode that far before. And, the countryside, Sir…it’s…”

“That’ll be enough, girl.” Mrs. Pepper whispered.

Ethel fell silent.

“Where is Hutchinson?” Dr. Halifax asked.

“Doctor,” Mr. Speaight began. “I have been informed that, for the safety of the household, Mr. Hutchinson preferred to stay behind in Belgravia to look after the house.”

Robert inhaled, nodding his head. “I imagine that was very wise.”

“Yes,” Punch nodded slowly. He wondered if something was being kept from him—some unknown danger at home. He shook his head slightly and tried to put the thought from his mind. He smiled in the manner of Julian. “I suppose you all might wonder why I’ve brought you here.”

“For a party, Sir.” Ethel chirped.

“Well, yes, Ethel.” Mr. Punch—still as the Duke—grinned aristocratically. “You see, you’ve all been so kind to Dr. Halifax, Colin and myself. So loyal. Dr. Halifax and I have long been wondering what we might do to reward you all. When we arrived at Grange Molliner, I was reminded of something that my father, Sir Colin, would do each year for the staff—The Servants’ Ball. The evening will be devoted to all of you. You will be given your choice of dress…it’s a fancy dress ball. You will have the evening to dance and eat and be merry, to join not only Dr. Halifax and me, but also the lords and ladies from the nearby estates. We will hire staff for the event so that you—as well as your counterparts from The Grange’s Staff—might feel free to relax and thoroughly enjoy yourselves.”

“We truly wish that each of you knows how much we appreciate all that you do for us.” Robert smiled.

“Cor!” Ethel giggled.

“Do you have any questions?” Robert asked.

Jenny reluctantly raised a finger.

“Yes, Jenny.” Robert nodded.

“It’s to be fancy dress, Sir?”

“That’s right.” Robert nodded.

“What shall I go as, then?” Jenny asked.

Mr. Punch smiled. “Anything you like.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” Punch nodded. “Dr. Halifax and I have agreed that tomorrow morning each of you should take some time with me—in pairs. First, Mr. Speaight and Mrs. Pepper, then, Gerard and Charles. Next, Violet and Gamilla. Then, Ethel and Jenny. Georgie, we’d planned on you coming with Mr. Hutchinson, but since he’s not here, you shall speak with me alone. During this time, you will describe your idea for your costume and I will make a sketch. I’ve hired the tailor and his wife from the village to make your costumes by the time of the ball.”

The younger people in the group all began to titter.

“Ethel?” Robert looked up, noticing a puzzled expression on the girl’s face.

“What of Miss Barrett?”

“She is too ill to attend,” Robert replied quickly.

“Who will watch the baby if Gamilla attends, Sir?” Georgie asked.

“Young Colin will stay with Dr. Halifax and me at the ball for awhile. When he becomes tired, Mrs. Pepper has graciously agreed to retire early with him. You may have noticed Gamilla’s absence this evening. She has temporarily taken up Miss Barrett’s duties in their entirety. Therefore it’s imperative that Gamilla be given the evening of the ball to enjoy herself.”

“I’d not want to be stayin’ up too late anyway.” Mrs. Pepper said modestly.

“No doubt,” Robert grinned, “that you will be quite exhausted by the end of the evening considering your important contribution to the festivities.”

“Is Mrs. Pepper gonna cook for all them folk?” Jenny asked, worried that if Mrs. Pepper was so employed, as kitchen maid, she would be as well.

“No, certainly not.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “This is as much of a treat for Mrs. Pepper as it is for the rest of you. With the help of Mrs. North—the housekeeper here whom you’ll meet shortly—we have arranged for the cooks of the neighboring estates to provide the food. However, Mrs. Pepper has graciously volunteered to create something very special for the evening as only she can.”

“Oh!” Georgie’s eyes widened. “Mum! Is it a cake?”

“You know it, my boy.” Mrs. Pepper replied proudly.

“Would you like to tell our friends, Mrs. Pepper, what you’ll be doing?” Robert asked.

“Well, Sir.” Mrs. Pepper blushed. “I been thinkin’ of a grand cake for the ball. It’ll be the biggest I ever made. Many tiers of three layers each. All butterscotch with a fine butterscotch icing, and, then, I’ll adorn the top of each with the Molliner tartan. I’m gonna call it ‘The Grange Molliner’ Cake.”

“It shall be the newest part of our my family’s tradition and I cannot express how pleased I am with this grand contribution to the history of the Molliner family.” Mr. Punch said sincerely.

“I’d like to help ya, Mrs. Pepper.” Jenny smiled.

“Good thing, too.” Mrs. Pepper winked. “You ain’t gotta choice.”

Jenny giggled.

Georgie raised a hand.

“Yes, Georgie.” Robert nodded.

“Well, Sir, if them others what work here are gonna come, too, Sir, where will they get their costumes? Is the Duke gonna help them, too?”

“We have already discussed this with Mrs. North who insists that the Grange’s staff already has fancy dress to wear from previous balls. In fact, I’m sure it’s true since most of them have been employed here since Sir Colin’s time. The newer maids, I’m told, have access to ensembles which were made for their predecessors—some of whom were their mothers and sisters.” Robert answered.

The group began to talk excitedly amongst themselves again.

Mr. Punch raised his hands to quiet them. “In addition to Mrs. Pepper’s magnificent cake, we will have all manner of wonderful food and drink for you. I’ve arranged with Her Majesty for the use of the small orchestra who often plays for Their Majesties at Balmoral. There will also be pipers, so be prepared to dance.”

“We hope that you will find this a pleasant diversion.” Robert began. “After the ball, we shall remain here for another week, and, then, we will return to London together.”

“Now,” Mr. Punch smiled. “You all must be quite tired from your journey. Mr. Speaight, thank you for taking the time to bring everyone to see us. You will now all return to the Servants’ Hall where you will be introduced to Mrs. North and her staff and, then, you will shown to your rooms. I shall see each of you at the appointed times tomorrow morning. Otherwise, until the ball, you are welcome to explore the estate at the discretion of Mr. Speaight and Mrs. Pepper. You may have some duties from time to time, but they will be light as we have agreed that you should take the time here as something of a holiday.”

“Again, we thank all of you for your sterling service. Please know how much the Duke of Fallbridge and I value each of you.” Robert smiled.

“Good night,” Punch concluded, happy to not have to speak as Julian anymore—at least for the evening.

“Good night,” the group replied—almost in unison—before filing out of the hall and heading toward their quarters.

Alone, Robert and Punch again sat in their chairs.

Robert sighed contentedly.

“Chum?” Punch asked after looking around to ensure the room was clear. “Why do ya think Hutchinson stayed behind?”

“I suspect for the reason given. I’m actually glad that he did. I’m sure that the house is more secure with him there.”

“I just wonder if maybe there ain’t more commotion from…” Punch trailed off.

“I’m sure that’s part of it, too.” Robert nodded. He smiled. “They all seemed so excited.”

“Yeah,” Punch answered. “I think that Ethel will…” He paused and squinted.

“Whatever is it, dear Punch?” Robert asked.

“Thought I heard somethin’, I did.”

“Such as?”

“Like a cry…”

Robert listened. His eyes widened as he heard a high-pitched, mournful sound arise from the distance.

“Do ya think it’s Colin?” Punch asked, standing up.

“I don’t know.” Robert shook his head, rising, too. “I couldn’t quite figure from where the sound came.”

Mr. Punch reached from Robert’s hand, pulling on his companion to follow him. As they ran to the nursery, the sound arose again—this time, louder.



Did you miss Chapters 1-93? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 95 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 94

Adrienne answered the front door since she didn’t want to disturb the servants’ celebration.


She forced herself to smile when she saw Miss Rittenhouse standing there in her pale lavender bonnet. In her hands she held a basket which was overflowing with cakes and fruit. Her withered face was bruised on her left cheek.

“Miss Rittenhouse,” Agnes said to the Nanny. “To what do we owe this visit?”

“Begging you pardon, Mrs. Halifax, I’ve brought some sweeties and things that His Lordship always enjoyed for all of you to share on this fine morning. I hope you don’t mind my coming to the front of the house. I stopped around the rear and saw that the staff was in the midst of a little party. I didn’t wish to disturb them.”

“Do come in,” Adrienne said plainly.

From within the parlor, Mr. Punch sniffed the air.

“No.” He grunted, pulling Toby closer to him and clutching his new puppet with his other hand.

“What is it, Pun…” Robert began to say as he noticed Adrienne leading the nanny into the room.

“Miss Rittenhouse has brought some gifts for us.” Adrienne said, glancing quickly at her husband to indicate that she wished him to help her hurry Miss Rittenhouse out of their home.

“How kind of you,” Cecil said. “We’ll most happily accept them.” Cecil walked hurriedly toward the woman and took the basket from her hand.

“It’s all your favorite things, Your Lordship.” Nanny Rittenhouse said to Julian/Mr. Punch who remained seated on the floor with his dog and his puppet.

Robert, who was cradling baby Fuller, raised one eyebrow at the nanny. “I’m so surprised to see you again so soon after your last visit. You’ll recall the chat we had last night.”

“Of course. Everyone was quite excited. I’m sure it owed largely to the holiday today.” Miss Rittenhouse said. “I just couldn’t miss the chance to bring these special treats to His Lordship as I used to do when he was a boy. Oh, how you used to love little puddings and cakes.”

“You know what I like?” Mr. Punch grinned. “Sausages. That’s what I like.”

Cecil chuckled.

“I suppose one’s tastes do change as one becomes a man.” Nanny Rittenhouse responded, slightly flustered. “What have you got there? Is it a Mr. Punch like the one you had when you were a laddie?”

Punch grunted. “Havin’ a good time, we were.”

“And, so we shall,” Cecil said. “Thank you so much for your gift, Miss Rittenhouse.” He took the woman by the arm and led her to the entry hall.

“Oh, I’m not in a hurry.” The nanny protested.

“I’m terribly sorry to be so abrupt, however, as you can see, our infant son is sleeping. We don’t wish to wake him. I think he’s already been tired out by the festivities.”

“I know all about sleeping, babies, Sir.”

“I’m sure you do. And, you must be eager to return to little Afton and Master Rowan. I’m sure they’re missing their nanny on this fine Christmas morning. Good day to you and Happy Christmas.”

With that Cecil opened the door and ushered the woman out.

“Happy Christmas.” The nanny replied as the door closed in her bruised face.

Cecil sighed and walked back into the parlor. “Well, then. What shall I do with these?” He held the basket aloft. “Give them to the servants?”

“No ‘less you want ‘em to die.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “No doubt the lot of it is poisoned.”

“You don’t think that she’d do anything to harm us, do you?” Adrienne asked.

“Know she would.” Mr. Punch nodded. Julian’s shoulders slumped. Mr. Punch whispered to the puppet in his lap. “You know she would, don’t you me wooden-headed chum? You know what they’re like—them folk with their secrets.”

Adrienne looked nervously at the piano. “Shall we sing some carols?”

“Sing?” Mr. Punch raised Julian’s eyebrows. “I like to sing.”

“I think you should lead us, then, Mr. Punch.” Adrienne smiled, sitting at the piano.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Mr. Punch grinned, rising from the floor—puppet in hand. “Do we need to sing ‘bout just Christmas or will anything do?”

“Let’s start with Christmas and see where it takes us.” Cecil chuckled.

And, so, they began to sing. As they did, Robert eyed the basket which the nanny had brought. That’s when he had an idea.

Meanwhile, Nanny Rittenhouse hurried through the corridors into Ulrika’s room.

“Your quick arrival must mean you’ve failed again.” Ulrika said, looking up from the book she was reading.

“I gave them the basket.” Agnes Rittenhouse said shakily.

“I suppose that’s sufficient for now.” Ulrika frowned. She pointed to the book in her lap. “Do you know what this is?”

“No.” The nanny shook her head. “It’s quite interesting, really. It’s the writings of a German physician—Franz Anton Mesmer. Fascinating. It seems there’s a Scottish surgeon named James Braid. You see, he employs Mesmer’s teaching to influence people—to alter their thinking and their minds. Mesmerism, they call it.”

“Very interesting,” The nanny nodded, unsure of what Ulrika was talking about.

“This is something that I’d very much like to try.” Ulrika grinned.

“You don’t wish to do something to me, do you?” The nanny asked.

“You?” Ulrika laughed. “You old rotten sack, what good are you to me?” She shook her head. “No, bring me Arthur. He’ll do quite nicely.”

“I wouldn’t know where to find him.” The nanny answered.

“La Rue de la Marchands—with his whore bride. Bring them both here. I think this may just be the answer to all of these annoying little problems.” Ulrika grinned.

“You’d risk bringing Miss Allen into this house with everyone thinking she died in the fire?” The nanny asked.

“You’re clever. Find a way to do it.” Ulrika shouted. “Just don’t get caught. Or you’ll find yourself with a matching purple welt on the other side of your face, you stinking hag.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-93? If so, you can read them here.