A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 96

Chapter 96
A Battle


"Miss Lennie,"  Gamilla leaned over Lennie's pale body.  "Can you hear me?"  She patted Lennie's hand.

From a distance, Robert and Gerard watched.

Gerard scratched his head nervously, messing up his dark blond hair.  "Gamilla says she's strong enough for this."

"I believe that she is, Gerard."  Robert replied.  "You must trust me, I'd not do anything that would put Gamilla or your child in danger."

"Oh, Sir, I do trust you.  I know...only..."

"I understand.  This is your wife, and you're about to be a father.  Gamilla has just fainted and you're concerned."  Robert replied.

"Don't think I'm not sick with worry about Lady Fallbridge, too."

"I think we're all sick with worry about everyone."  Robert sighed.

"How is His Grace?"  Gerard asked.

"He's trying his best to remain strong."  Robert answered.  "I've sent him to our rooms to rest a bit before...before this procedure.  I..."

"Your Lordship?"  Gamilla called out, waving for Robert.

He came over, leaving Gerard behind.

"Pardon me,"  Matthew addressed Gerard from the fireplace.  

"Yes, Lord Cleaversworth."  Gerard replied.

"On your way here, did you happen to notice my man?"  Matthew asked.

"Perkins, Sir?"  Gerard shook his head.  "No.  I've not seen him since early this morning when he..."

"I know about the trouble."  Matthew nodded.  "He seems to have disappeared again."

"I apologize, Sir.  I wish I knew more.  If anyone knows where Perkins has gotten to, I'd guess it'd be Gregory.  Shall I look for him?"  Gerard asked.

"No, no.  It's not terribly important."  Matthew shook his head.  "I know you're concerned for your wife and for Lady Fallbridge.  Your place is here until Lord Colinshire tells you otherwise."

"Thank you, Sir." Gerard nodded, retreating to get a better view of what was transpiring between Gamilla and Robert.  He went to stand in the corner where Charles and Violet were waiting for instructions.

"I don't think," Gamilla whispered, "that it's a poison that's taken hold of Miss Lennie."

"No?"  Robert asked.

"No,"  Gamilla shook her head.  "I put my hands on her.  I think it's more than that.  I felt somethin', and saw somethin' in my...in my head.  She's at battle, Sir."

"Battle?"  Robert raised an eyebrow.  "With whom?"

"With her mother."  Gamilla replied.

"How can that be?"

"Whatever got into her body through that cut--it was some kind of potion, it made her sleep. It made her body sleep but left her mind open so that the duchess' spirit could prey upon it.  I...I think the duchess is countin' on makin' Miss Lennie's body weak so she can take Miss Lennie's spirit."

Robert inhaled.

"I know what you must be thinkin'."  Gamilla said quickly.  "Only, by doin' so, by takin' her spirit, it would make the duchess more powerful."

Robert nodded.  "Still, by making Her Ladyship's body stronger, wouldn't we be helping her?"

"Only you wouldn't be makin' her stronger.  Not with that battle goin' on inside her.  No matter what ya done..."

"How do we stop this...this battle?"

"I think I could do it, Sir."  Gamilla replied.



Did you miss Chapters 1-95 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back on Monday for Chapter 97.  

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 96

Chapter 96: 

Locking the Door 



Mr. Punch rolled over, being careful not to upset Dog Toby who lay in between his masters, and whispered to Robert, “Chum? Are ya sleepin’?”

“No,” Robert responded softly.

“Why not?” Punch asked.

Robert chuckled. “I don’t know, dear Punch. I’ve just not fallen asleep yet.”

“Are ya worried, Chum?” Punch asked quietly.

“Not so much worried as I am perplexed.”

Punch sighed.

“We searched this whole house.” Robert sat up, arranging his pillows behind his back.

“Want me to light a candle?” Punch asked.

“No need. Unless you want to.”

“No.” Punch muttered.

“We looked all over,” Robert continued. “Yet, we found nothing out of the ordinary.”

“It’s real dark in here, it is, Chum.” Punch muttered. “Maybe Dog Toby wants a candle lit.”

“Maybe he does.” Robert smiled in the darkness. “I’ll get one.” He began to get out of the bed.

“Where ya goin’?” Punch asked quickly.

“To the fire to get a spill.” Robert paused.

“Oh.” Punch mumbled. “You don’t gotta do that.”

“I thought Dog Toby…”

“What’s he know?” Punch interrupted. “He’s asleep. He don’t know if he wants a candle lit or not.”

Robert settled back onto the bed.

“We both heard that cry, we did.” Punch grumbled.

“I know. And, Gamilla did as well. So did Toby.”

“So somethin’ had to make the noise.” Punch frowned.

“Yes.” Robert replied, reaching over the terrier to take Punch’s hand. “But, it could have been anything. Parts of this castle are over eight-hundred years old. It’s entirely conceivable that we heard some bird, an owl…or some kind of animal which has gotten into the house.”

“Animals don’t hold knives.” Mr. Punch grunted.

“Not typically.” Robert sighed. “However, Dear Punch, the passage was quite dark and Gamilla must be exhausted. Haven’t your eyes ever played tricks on you in the dark?”

“Everythin’ I got plays tricks on me all the time.” Punch replied. “But, Chum, what Gamilla saw was just the way Nanny Rittenhouse described the haint what wanders the Grange. It ain’t like Gamilla’s thoughts was influenced by the story since she ain’t never heard no such story ‘fore. She described it without knowin’, Chum.”

“I know.” Robert replied gently.

“Now, I know you ain’t one to believe in such things as haints and shades, but you gotta admit that you seen some things in the last year what don’t got no answer what you can ‘xplain with your science.”

“This is true.” Robert answered.

“See? I do. I do believe in spirits and such since I seen ‘em before. And, I mean me—Mr. Punch-not Julian who sees all sorts of things what ain’t there. I mean me! When I was usin’ the body. When I was in control of the thoughts and what we saw. I seen Naasir after he died—several times. And, I seen the ghost of Nanny Rittenhouse and Julian’s ma and all.”

“I know that you have, my dear.”

“So, it’s quite possible what Gamilla saw were really the ghost of Lucas Molliner.”

“I suppose it is possible.” Robert squeezed Punch’s hand.

“Listen, I ain’t scared me-self, I ain’t. Only it worries me for Colin. I don’t want nothin’ to upset him, Chum. Not our little boy. And, what of the girls? Now, I ‘spect that the maids what live and work here is used to it—to seein’ such things. But, Ethel and Jenny and Vi—they just came. And, Mrs. Pepper! Ain’t no good scarin’ them. Even Gerry and Charles and such. Bugger, even ol’ Speaight is a jumpy creature. We brought ‘em out here for a holiday, not to be haunted by some ol’ dead ancestor o’ mine…er…Julian’s.”

“My love,” Robert smiled. Punch could see his eyes and teeth even in the darkened room and felt comforted by the grin. “You say it’s possible that it’s the ghost of Lucas Molliner, but it’s also possible that it’s a living human being who is trying to fool us.”

“Who’d want to do that?”

“Who’d want to kill William Stover and leave him in our property so that we’d be blamed for his death?” Robert shrugged. “Why has anyone ever tried to torture us?”

“Dunno.” Punch grumbled. “Greed? Jealousy? Madness?”

“Or both.” Robert nodded.

“But, the folks what’s here is our friends.”

“All of them?” Robert asked. “We know our own people, of course. But, what of the Grange’s staff?”

“Well…” Punch answered thoughtfully. “Most of ‘em have been ‘round since our pa were alive. Mrs. North and Johnny and Finlay.”

“But, there are others whom we don’t know.”

“Yes.”

“Similarly, by now, I’m sure most of London knows we’ve left for Scotland. It’s not impossible to think that one or more of the very people we wished to escape have come to torment us further.”

“But, they’d have to be someone who knew the story of Lucas Molliner’s haint!”

“Who else knew the story?”

“Just me and Barbara.” Punch replied. “We’re all that’s left. Everyone else what I can think of that knew ‘bout that is dead. It were a story what Nanny Rittenhouse told us. Don’t think she ever saw anyone else.”

“She’d had to have learned it from someone. My dear, didn’t Nanny Rittenhouse accompany the family on their visits here? Especially when your mother stopped coming. She must have heard the tale from one of the staff here. Possibly even Mrs. North or that bearded groundsman, Johnny Donnan.”

“Hadn’t thought of that.”

“I’m sure that the story is legend in these parts.” Robert continued. “Furthermore, anyone from any of the nearby estates could have heard the tale from someone here and passed it on.”

“I s’pect so.” Punch nodded. “Still, ghost or not ghost, I’m still worried that someone or somethin’ is walkin’ ‘round the house where our son is—with a knife.”

“I’m concerned, too.” Robert sighed. “However, we needed worry about Colin. The door to the nursery has been locked and the only other entrance to that room is through ours. No one will get to him.”

“But, shades can go through walls and such.” Punch frowned.

“Would you like for me to bring his bassinette in here?”

“Yes, please.” Punch nodded.

“Very well.” Robert replied, getting out of bed.

“I’ll come, too.” Punch scurried out of the bed.

“You can carry Colin.” Robert nodded. He paused. “You do understand that as long as there’s breath in my body no one will ever harm you? Not ever again. When you were poisoned, I vowed that I would be more vigilant.”

“You don’t gotta tell me that, Chum.” Punch embraced Robert. “I know. You always looked out for me—even before we was chums. Ever since the day you doctored up Julian’s body after that terrible day in Covent Garden—I knew you’d protect us. And, then, there you was on the ship and…”

“I failed you.” Robert gulped. “I let harm come to you while we lived in the same house. I’m supposed to be caring for you.”

“We’re supposed to be caring for each other…and for Colin and for Dog Toby and for them folks what live in our house. But, Chum, we can’t stop the world from goin’. We can’t make folk stop bein’ evil. We just gotta do what we can.”

Punch chuckled.

“What is it, Dear Punch?”

“I s’pose I jus’ taught me-self a lesson. Here I been worried ‘bout protectin’ Colin from somethin’ what we don’t know ‘bout. But, I only just realized that the best we can do is guard against what we know and, then, take everythin’ else as it comes.”

“Do you want to leave Colin in his room?” Robert asked.

“No. Not at all.” Punch laughed. “Even if we take everythin’ as it comes, don’t mean we gotta open the door for it to enter.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-95? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 97.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 96

Ulrika Rittenhouse grinned at Arthur and Barbara as they walked into her bedroom with Agnes Rittenhouse.


“We shouldn’t be here.” Barbara whispered. “Your mother and father are downstairs with the children. They almost spotted me. Don’t you understand? They think I’m dead.”

“They’ll find out soon enough that you’re not dead.” Ulrika laughed. “I know you were with your lunatic brother. Don’t you think that the little French woman is going to mention to Mother that you were in her home? Our servants are already talking about how that wicked Barbara Allen is rumored to have stolen some expensive silver from the Halifaxes. You know how subordinates talk…”

“I still shouldn’t be here.” Barbara frowned. “Iolanthe is expecting me.”

“She can wait.” Ulrika spat. “She may own your body, but I own your soul.”

“The only thing of mine that you have possession of is my diamond!” Barbara snarled.

“Pet, please.” Arthur grabbed Barbara by the wrist.

“So, you told your whore bride that I have the diamond?” Ulrika smirked. “Arthur, I knew you would. You don’t really think that I trusted you?”

“I had to tell ‘er.” Arthur said defiantly.

“Did you tell her how important it is to me to see that she and her daft sibling live no longer?”

“Why?” Barbara asked angrily.

“You signed your life away to me. Remember? We have an arrangement. As my maid, any of your property reverts to me upon your death as long as you have no living family. Who remains? Your father is dead—murdered because of your careless intimacy with that ogress. Who else? Just loony Lord Julian.”

“My mother.” Barbara said. “She is alive and well.”

“Are you so sure?” Ulrika grinned. “Can you be certain that the Duchess of Fallbridge isn’t slumped over her Christmas pudding as we speak?”

Barbara lunged toward Ulrika, but Arthur held her back.

“Let her at me,” Ulrika rose from her chair. “She’d regret it if she came near me.”

Ulrika looked at Nanny Rittenhouse. “Agnes, cousin, get the box.”

Agnes walked to the chiffarobe and retrieved a small silver box from the lowest drawer. She handed it to Ulrika who opened it and removed two small pieces of some organic material—a woody substance of yellowish green.

“I want you both to chew on this.” Ulrika said.

“No.” Barbara struggled to break free of Arthur’s grasp. “Why should we?”

Ulrika laughed and sat down in her chair again, removing a pistol from behind the cushion which leaned against the arm of the chair.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll shoot you both in the heart.” Ulrika smiled. “Nanny, dear, didn’t these two monsters break into our house to try to steal from us as they did from Mr. and Mrs. Halifax?”

“Yes, Miss, they did.” The Nanny nodded her head.

“That’s all I’d have to say.” Ulrika wagged the pistol at them. She rose from the chair and extended her left hand, offering the hunks of foul-smelling wood to them.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

“It’s a root.” Ulrika said. “St. Dymphna’s Root—very powerful. Chew on it.” Ulrika’s eyes widened. “Take it!”

Arthur took a piece and forced it into Barbara’s mouth. He put the other in his own mouth.

“Now, you, Agnes.” Ulrika grinned. “Leave us.”

“Yes, Miss.” Agnes nodded.

“I want you to take this note to The Halifax House.” Ulrika handed a folded page to the nanny.

“They won’t let me in again, Miss Ulrika.” Agnes shook her head.

“Find a way!” Ulrika snapped. “Take it to Lord Fallbridge’s room and leave it somewhere out of sight. And, be quick about it!”

“Yes, Miss.” Agnes said, taking the page and hurrying from the room.

“I want the two of you to sit on the bed.” Ulrika motioned to the bed with the pistol.

“This tastes vile.” Barbara said.

“It won’t for long.” Ulika winked. “Soon, you’ll grow to like it.”

Meanwhile, down the red hill, Mr. Punch lay sprawled out on the floor in the parlor of the Halifax house. His new puppet lay across his stomach. On his right, Toby nestled against his master and on his left, Fuller lay with his head on Julian’s arm.

“You’re quite popular, Mr. Punch.” Robert smiled at his friend.

Mr. Punch nodded. “Never thought I’d have a day like this one.”

“Nor I.” Robert sighed. “We’ve weathered quite a lot, haven’t we, Punch?”

“Sure.” Mr. Punch answered.

“Here, we got all this happiness. So many other people don’t.” Mr. Punch said.

“True. We should count our blessings.”

“Don’t like to count.” Mr. Punch grunted.

“It’s a figure of…” Robert shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We won’t count anything. We’ll just enjoy the moment.”

“Chum,” Mr. Punch began. “You know how you humans like to worry ‘bout things?”

“Yes.” Robert chuckled.

“Well, I got a worry, I do. Least, I think that’s what it is.”

“You’re worried about Barbara and Arthur?”

“Well, I ‘spose. And, that Iolanthe woman, too. And, ‘bout that poor child what’s in the Cages’ house. ‘Spose I got a lot of worries. Only none o’ them are what I were just thinkin’ ‘bout.”

“What were you thinking about, dear Punch?”

“Marjani.” Mr. Punch said, careful not to move so as not to disturb neither dog nor baby. “She’s been so kind to us, but she’s sufferin’ awful what with her daughter and her daughter’s husband bein’ so sick.”

“Naasir was just there yesterday with our gifts.” Robert said. “She knows we’re thinking of her. Sadly, there’s not much we can do to help her. I’m afraid that the illness that they have isn’t curable.”

“I don’t understand why that’s gotta be so. Seems to me that if a person’s sick, he oughta get better like what you did.”

“My illness, though serious, wasn’t as grave as the fever Marjani’s family has contracted.” Robert explained.

“Just ain’t right.” Mr. Punch frowned.

“No, dear Punch. It isn’t.” Robert nodded.

Mr. Punch sighed. “Here, when are Adrienne and Cecil comin’ back?”

“Soon, I’m sure. They’ve just gone to give their gifts to the staff. Apparently, they don’t keep the tradition of Boxing Day around here.” Robert responded.

“Good, cuz, I think Toby and Fuller want to sing more songs and we need Adrienne to play the piano.”

“Is that so?” Robert laughed. “And, they told you this?”

“Yep.” Mr. Punch grinned. “You oughta know by now that somethin’ don’t have to talk to say somethin’.”

“Just one of many things I’ve learned from you.”

Mr. Punch sniffed the air. He wrinkled Julian’s nose.

“What is it? Does Fuller need some attention? Babies do that, you know.”

“No.” Mr. Punch shook his head. “Ain’t that. I smell rotten roses. You know who smells like that…”

“I do.” Robert stood up. “Stay here with the baby.”

“Where you goin’?” Mr. Punch asked.

“If that woman is in this house, I’m going to make sure that she leaves.” Robert said firmly.

Robert followed the scent of old rose water toward the back staircase. He spotted a flicker of lavender fabric and heard light footsteps on the stairs.

“She is here.” Robert muttered to himself, racing up the stairs.

Several minutes passed. Mr. Punch lay on the floor motionless with Fuller and Toby. He strained to hear if Robert was safe.

He heard footsteps walk into the parlor—a woman’s footsteps. He didn’t smell the nanny’s scent, so when he looked up, he expected to see Adrienne standing over him.

“Lady Chum,” Mr. Punch began. “I think that nanny has…” He paused.

“Hello, lunatic.” Iolanthe Evangeline smiled, looming over Mr. Punch and his charges. “Merry Christmas.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-95? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday, November 15 for Chapter 97 of Punch’s Cousin.