Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 81

Chapter 81: 

If Need Be 

“Come sit by me,” Ellen scowled.

“I don’t think I’d better,” her visitor smirked. “What with your ‘terrible’ fever. Won’t do for me to catch it.”

“Finlay!” Ellen snapped. “You are like a needle in my eye. Do as I say.”

“That’s no way to speak to your older brother.” Finlay teased.

“Half-brother.” Ellen growled.

“Still.” Finlay continued. “You wouldn’t speak to the Duke that way. He’s your half-brother as well.”

“But, he’s the brother with all the gold.”

“Are you always so mercenary?” Finlay chuckled, sitting down. “You know, I used to think about you—dream of my lost sister. I never imagined that you’d be such a sow, lassie.”

“How could I be anything else?” Ellen spat. “You have no idea what I’ve had to endure. While you were here breathing the crisp air off of the moors, I was in London, fighting for my life.”

“How exactly were you fighting for your life, my dear sister? There was food on your table. You had ‘brothers’ to protect you. You had education and, then, employment.”

“Is that how it was?” Ellen frowned. “I’m impressed with your authority.”

“Am I mistaken, lass?” Finlay smiled.

“Very.”

“Seems to me you had the better life, Ellen. You got away from our pa. You didn’t have to stay here and have your skin bloodied at his hand. It wasn’t until I could fight back that he stopped.”

“You don’t think I was beaten?”

“No.” Finlay smirked. “Aunt Tess was a gentle soul. She was an angel. Not at all like her brother, our da’.”

“What of her husband? What of the man I was forced to call ‘father.’ What of Mr. Barrett?”

“Please, he was a lamb.” Finlay scoffed. “When the Duchess of Fallbridge came to him with her scheme, he dutifully obeyed and stood silently by as he and Auntie Tess adopted her bastard.”

“I don’t like that word.”

“That’s what you were.” Finlay grinned. “That’s what you are. Funny, isn’t it? The fool Duke is a lot like my Uncle Barrett, isn’t he? Adoptin’ his sister’s bastard. Funny that he hired a bastard to be the governess of a bastard.”

“I’d advise you to keep silent.”

“You can advise all you want, then, Ellen. But, I’m in this with you. Equal partners, you said—as long as I helped you. And, help you I have.”

“Yes,” Ellen nodded slowly. “You have. However, I don’t wish to hear your opinions about my life. You weren’t there. You don’t know.”

“I was there.” Finlay laughed. “Or have you forgotten, little sister? I was nigh on ten years old when you were born to the Duchess of Fallbridge after her many, many, many trysts with our da’. I was the one who lied to me ma when pa was out in the cottage wrapped in the duchess’ arms. I was there when my auntie agreed to take the bastard child of her dear brother and the Duchess of Fallbridge. I was there when you were born and I was there when the midwife handed you to Auntie Tess without the duchess even lookin’ at ya. I watched ya. Whenever I went to the village, I kept me eyes open to catch a glimpse of my sister. I saw ya. I saw ya grow up. I saw ya throwin’ stones in the loch. I knew when you stole the button candy from Mr. MacMillan’s place. I knew when you was caught by the loch with young Billy Dooley….showin’ him your…”

“You forget, that I know about you, too, Finlay. Do you remember the time when you and my ‘brother’ were found trading familiarities in the mulberry grove?”

“Ay, I remember it well.” Finlay grinned. “What was to stop me?”

“He may not have really been my brother, but he was my cousin, and, therefore yours. Your dear auntie’s son.”

Finlay shrugged. “You make my point for me, Ellen. You grew up with three male cousins who looked after you like you were their own real sister. Who knows? They were so young when it happened, maybe they really thought you were their sister. Do they? I never spoke to Lonnie ‘bout it.”

“No, you were too busy doing other things.” Ellen snorted. “You know nothing. Everything changed when we saw what Roger was like. And, then we moved. You seem to think you’re quite an expert about my life, but, there’s a good twenty years which we spent in London—without your precious Aunt Tess to protect me.”

“Ach.” Finlay nodded gravely. “Shall we continue this way? Would you like to know how your Auntie Tess—the woman who took you in and mothered you—met her end?”

Ellen frowned.

“No, I don’t think you would.” Finlay glared. “You were too involved in your schoolin’. You complain to me? You got schoolin’! You got to live in London while I was here—alone! Oh, sure you suffered! Livin’ in the homes of the wealthy. Sleepin’ in the bed of the Baron Lensdown! You were blissful, you were! Didn’t even know you was a bastard ‘til you were grown!”

“Keep your voice down!” Ellen snapped. “Do you want the whole house to hear you?”

“I remember when I got the letter from Uncle Birk—tellin’ me he was dyin’, tellin’ me that he finally let you know who you were! And once you did, what happened, Ellen? Did you help the man who raised ya? The man who paid for your schoolin’? Who made sure you had food in your belly and clothes on your back? No. You turned your back on him. Birk Barrett died alone while the girl he adopted was on her back with the Baron Lensdown! You never knew her, girl, but you’re the spit and image of the Duchess of Fallbridge. If we ever needed proof of who you are, you just need to look in your heart, you filthy bitch. How I hate you.”

“If you hate me so much, why are you helping me?”

“Because I hate our pa even more.” Finlay grumbled. “Struttin’ ‘round this estate like it was his own. The great Johnny Donnan. He’s a pig. For every tear I shed at his hand, I’ll see a drop of his blood soak the ground. And, if not blood, then his own tears. When he discovers that his lost daughter is here and that…”

“You delight me, Finlay.” Ellen smiled, interrupting. “You’re thrilling.”

“I been thrilled this week to see our pa. Trudgin’ ‘round readyin’ the place for the master when all the while his bastard daughter is here. He has no idea! You know what he said when he saw ya? He turned to me and said that you were a fine, lookin’ girl and told me what he’d like to do to ya.”

Ellen shivered.

“That’s right.” Finlay nodded. “And, while the household was out lookin’ for ya, our pa joked that he hoped he’d be the one to find ya so he could…” Finlay laughed. “You get my meanin’, lass.”

“I do.”

“I hope you got what you wanted from the cottage. I had a hell of a time stallin’ them boys—Gerard and Charles--on the way there. Almost caught ya.”

“Yes. And, thanks so much for leaving the key for me as you said you would.” Ellen snarled sarcastically. “I had to crawl through a window.”

“Good for ya.” Finlay smirked. “You’re a little round, ain’t ya? The exercise did ya good, I’m sure. So, did ya find it?”

“I couldn’t find the record of my birth.” Ellen shook her head. “I need more time. But, I did find the Duchess’ journals. This one is from the year of my birth and Her Grace was quite graphic.”

“So, what now?”

“We keep to our scheme.”

“You got what you want. Why not just go to the Duke and tell ‘im.”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?” Finlay groaned. “You nigh on killed the man with poison tryin’ to get ‘im here. Just tell him you’re his sister! From all I’m told though he’s potty, he’s a gentleman and as kind a man as you’d ever want to know. I’m sure he’d embrace you and give you your due.”

“I don’t just want a portion. I want it all.”

“You’ll never get it all.” Finlay shook his head.

“Why not?”

“To begin with, you ain’t a Molliner, my dear. You’re a bastard with the Fallbridge bloodline.”

“As you’re so fond of reminding me.”

“Point is, Ellen, you may have Fallbridge blood in ya, but the Duke is still the heir. He’s older. And, he’s legitimate. The real son of the Duchess and Sir Colin Molliner. And, there’re a couple of other things.”

“Such as?”

“The boy.” Finlay smiled. “Young Colin. He’s the rightful heir should anything happen to the Duke.”

“A minor inconvenience.” Ellen smiled.

“You wouldn’t?”

“I’ll do what I need to.”

“What of your sister?” Finlay asked.

“Pardon?”

“The other legitimate child of the Duchess and Sir Colin. Lady Barbara.” Finlay grinned. “The Duke may claim that she died in America, but we know otherwise. She’s quite alive and livin’ as a whore.”

“She’s changed her name.” Ellen shrugged. “She’s disowned herself. As good as dead.”

“So what do you aim to do?” Finlay asked.

“You already know.”

“Why draw it out, then?” Finlay sputtered. “Do it and be done with it!”

“It’s not time.”

“You want him to suffer—this poor, sweet, lovin’, sick man.”

“Perhaps.”

“Did you ever think that maybe he’s got documents in place naming the doctor as his heir?” Finlay asked. “Sure, not to the title, but to the estate.”

“That won’t be an issue.” Ellen laughed. “Thanks to you.”

“He’ll never go for it.” Finlay shook his head.

“How can you be sure?” Ellen sniffed.

“You’ve seen the two of ‘em together. There’s no wedge big enough.”

“You’re just the right size, brother, dear.” Ellen smiled. “Just the right size…”

“And if it don’t work?” Finlay muttered.

“Have you forgotten William Stover?”

“No.” Finlay smiled. “And, I’ve not forgotten that that little scheme o’ yours didn’t work out so well neither. I don’t see Dr. Halifax rottin’ in jail for murder.”

“An unfortunate turn of events.” Ellen sighed. “I’d thought it would be so convenient. That fool man was already being used by his own people. I was just fortunate enough to stumble into it. But, as easily as I disposed of that Stover fellow, I can dispose of the doctor if need be.”

“You would. Wouldn’t you?”

“If need be.” Ellen repeated. “I don’t want it to come to murder again. But, I’ll do it if I must.”

“So the man’s life depends on what I do next?” Finlay took a deep breath.

“Precisely.” Ellen smiled. “So, you’d better hope that he takes the bait.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-80 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 82.