Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 130

Chapter 130: 
Folding 


Charles put a finger to his lips when the door to the nursery shook from being pounded by what sounded like a desperate fist. Mr. Punch hugged Colin close to his chest and Gamilla held her breath. Even Dog Toby was silent, not barking until he could see how Charles was going to react to the intrusion.

“Charles!” Robert shouted from the other side of the door. “It’s Dr. Halifax! Hurry!”

Quickly unbolting the door, Charles pulled it open and gasped when he saw Dr. Halifax with Gerard leaning painfully against him.

Gamilla leapt up and hurried toward the men. “What happened?”

“Gerard’s been cut.” Robert rasped. “We were in the Blue Drawing Room and when he extinguished the lamp, someone came upon him in the dark.”

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…” Punch yelped, standing up. “Gerry!”

“I fought ‘im off.” Gerard forced a smile. “Managed to get me elbow into his ribs.”

“Get him to the bed in my room Gamilla.” Punch nodded toward the door which joined his bedchamber to the nursery.

Robert and Gamilla helped Gerard stagger into the next room.

“Chum?” Punch called after them. “You ain’t hurt too?”

“No.” Robert replied.

Charles stood next to the Duke—his mouth open in shock. “My friend…” he whispered. “How could…”

“Dr. Halifax’ll fix ‘im.” Punch said quickly. “Look at all the times he’s patched me up. See—I’m just fine. Dr. Halifax can fix anythin’.”

Charles nodded absently.

“We’d best go in there.” Punch said softly to his valet.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Charles,” Punch whispered. “Will ya be all right?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Charles nodded.

“Can I ask ya to do somethin’ for me? Would ya mind?”

“Anything, Sir.” Charles replied, coming to his senses.

“Could ya bring the cradle into me room, please? I’d like to settle Colin in where we can see him, I would.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Charles nodded, quickly lifting the cradle and bringing it into the adjoining bedchamber. Dog Toby trotted behind.

As Robert and Gamilla helped Gerard onto the bed, Punch gently placed Colin in the cradle and, making sure he could see the cradle from all angles of the room, went to the bedside.

“Gamilla, we’re going to have to undress him.” Robert said softly.

Gamilla nodded.

“If you wish to leave, I understand.” Robert continued.

“I ain’t leavin’, Doctor.” Gamilla shook her head. “I ain’t leavin’ his side.”

“Very well. I could use your help.” Robert answered.

“I’ll fetch some water and the basin from the nursery.” Gamilla replied.

“And flannels! Clean!” Robert called after her. He looked at Gerard who was fading quickly. “We’ll need bandages, too, I’m afraid. Charles, I think you’ll find some in my wardrobe. There’s a parcel of bandages near my…”

“There’s some here, Sir.” Charles said. “They were in the Duke’s trunk--still from the voyage from America. We’d kept a good many of them after the Duke burnt his hands.”

“Get them for me, would you?” Robert asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Charlie…” Gerard moaned.

“He’s comin’ back, Gerry.” Punch whispered. “You ain’t gonna be alone. We’re all here with ya.”

“It hurts.” Gerard mumbled, trying to reach for his side.

“How did this happen?” Punch asked Robert softly.

“I don’t know. We had gone to investigate the scream and…” He paused.

“What did you find?” Punch asked.

Robert didn’t reply.

“Chum?” Punch demanded.

“I…I’ll tell you about it once we get Gerard fixed up.”

Mr. Punch scowled but said nothing further.

“I got ‘im right in the ribs…” Gerard mumbled.

“Someone came upon him in the dark.” Robert said again. “I didn’t know it until I heard the scuffle. Gerard, it seems, was able to fight the fellow off, but not until he’d been stabbed.”

Mr. Punch growled. “I’ll kill whoever did this. Nobody’s gonna hurt me chums!”

“Help me get his coat and shirt off,” Robert pointed, “so we can see with what we’re dealing. Then, we can kill the perpetrator of this crime together.”

Mr. Punch nodded. He paused for a moment to brush a wisp of dark hair from Robert’s sweaty forehead. “Dunno what I’d do if you’d been hurt, my Robert.”

Robert winked at Mr. Punch. “I’m quite well and intend to stay that way.”

“Dunno what I’d do.” Punch repeated.

“You’ll never have to worry about it.”

“I’d not let a thing happen to the doctor, Your Grace.” Gerard said breathlessly—clearly in pain. “Nor you nor the babe nor Gamilla nor Charlie…” He trailed off.

Robert and Punch exchanged urgent, worried glances.

Mr. Punch stepped forward. “Gerry, I gotta help ya sit up a bit. It ain’t gonna feel too good, but, you can take my arm and give it a good squeeze if sittin’ up hurts ya.”

Gerry looked up at Punch helplessly. He winced in pain as Robert and Punch helped him to a sitting position. Together, they carefully and cautiously undressed him.

Mr. Punch turned his head when he saw the wound. It was between Gerard’s spine and ribs.

“Coo.” Punch whispered. “Our poor, dear Gerry…”

“It’s not as deep as it could have been.” Robert sighed with relief.

Gamilla returned to the room and placed the basin on the table next to the bed, she wet a flannel and, without being asked, began to clean the wound.

“I’ve got the bandages, Sir.” Charles whispered.

“Thank you. Unwind several lengths for me. And, cotton wool…do we have any?”

“Uh…” Charles looked around.

“By the shaving mirror is a box.” Punch pointed. “Dunno why. Julian always set it out when he was shavin’. Kept doin’ it me-self when I took over the body.”

Charles went to fetch the box.

Gamilla looked up at Robert as she wrung out the bloody flannel—the water of the basin turning pink.

“He’ll be just fine, Gamilla. Providing we keep the wound clean, he should be just fine.”

Gamilla nodded, her eyes showing both relief and fear.

“Charles,” Punch began. “While you’re over there, get one of my nightshirts for Gerard, please. When he’s all bandaged up, he’ll want somethin’ to wear what’s warm, he will.”

“I can’t wear your…” Gerard mumbled. “It’s too nice…”

“You can.” Punch said quickly. “And, what’s more, you can keep it, Gerry. I’ll buy you a thousand nightshirts if you’ll just be well and strong.”

Gerard smiled slightly despite his pain. “That’s the way to do it.”

“Yes, it is.” Punch said firmly. “You just keep sayin’ that. ‘Member, you can beat the Devil, too, Chum.”

Charles returned with the nightshirt and wool and took Gerard’s bloody shirt and coat from the chair where Robert had thrown them.

“I don’t think there’s any saving these.” Charles muttered to himself absent-mindedly. He nervously watched Gamilla continue to clean Gerard’s stab wound. As he did, he folded Gerard’s ruined shirt. And, then, set about folding the jacket. As a matter of routine, he reached into the side pockets to remove whatever might be in there before folding the garment. Usually, when caring for the Duke’s clothes, he found the odd little bits which Punch managed to collect during a day—pebbles, bits of half-eaten biscuit, stamps, scraps cut out from books, broken pieces of charcoal and oil pastel, leaves, blades of grass, flower petals, and, once, a large snail.

Charles wasn’t sure what he’d just grasped when he reached into the coat’s pocket. Cold and hard and smooth, he could tell that he’d taken hold of many pieces.

His eyes widened as Charles withdrew his hand from the pocket. He opened his fingers and, there, on his palm was a handful of the Duke’s stolen jewelry.



Did you miss Chapters 1-129? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 131 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.