Saturday, October 6, 2012

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 158



Chapter 158:
A Nasty Bruise



As Punch and Robert walked briskly through the upper passage, Robert slipped his arm around Punch’s. “You’ve a rather nasty bruise arising on your jaw.”

Mr. Punch nodded. “Not surprised. Charles has got a strong fist. Ain’t nothin’. Glad he did it. Gave me a chance to get…” He paused, unsure of how to describe the struggle he had endured with Scaramouche and Kasperl.

“In that event,” Robert spoke up, “I’m glad Charles struck you, too.”

“Just happy he didn’t knock loose any of Julian’s teeth.” Punch continued.

Robert sighed. “I’m…I…was quite frightened. I wasn’t certain that you’d come back to me.”

“Chum,” Punch smiled though it hurt him slightly to do so. “I’ll always come back to you. Always.”

Robert nodded, swallowing hard. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Considerin’ that I just killed a sister I didn’t know I had and that our Gerard is hurt, that our staff has been terrorized and that Mrs. North is dead, I’m just fine.”

Robert shook his head as they began to descend the stairs. “This evening certainly didn’t turn out as we planned.”

“Last evening.” Punch said softly. “It’s mornin’ now.” He frowned. “I wish we’d never come here. Ain’t it terrible? Me pa’s ancestral home. Coulda been such a joy. But, I wish we’d never come. Ain’t it awful? Dead a year now and the Duchess is still causin’ pain for us.”

“If I had any idea that Miss Barrett was…”

“How could ya?” Punch said quickly. “I didn’t know. Julian didn’t know. I just find it curious, I do, that our Pa wouldn’t have said nothin’ to Julian ‘bout it. You’d think he woulda told Julian he had another sister. Who knows? Maybe there’s more of the Duchess’ bastards roamin’ the Kingdom.”

“I’m sure that Sir Colin would have said something eventually. He was killed so suddenly, he never had a chance. Or, perhaps, he wanted to preserve what little affection or respect Julian might have had remaining for his mother.”

“There weren’t none. Just fear. That’s all that were left. With good reason, too. Sir Colin knew it. He made no show of affection for his wife. Why do ya think he went on all those expeditions? All them years in Egypt. He coulda come back with some regularity, he could. But, he couldn’t stand to be near the Duchess. I remember when Julian leased the house on Belgrave Square. Sir Colin’d said he wanted to take Julian out to luncheon—somewhere fine so the two of ‘em could talk ‘bout things. He seemed so serious, it made Julian nervous. He knew his pa were proud that Julian were leavin’ Yorkshire and Fallbridge Hall and startin’ his own life in London, but there seemed to be somethin’ what he wanted to tell ‘im. Maybe that were it. The luncheon never happened. Sir Colin sent word that he had to go to France to inspect a lot of jewels before the Reveren’ Townshend got to ‘em. He never came back.”

“I’m sorry.” Robert replied.

“Can’t be helped now.” Punch mumbled. “All we can do now is protect our Colin and Dog Toby and our chums what relies on us.”

“And one another.”

“Always that, my Robert.” Punch nodded.

Walking through the Great Hall, they were startled when Lady Constance appeared—as if from nowhere. “Your Grace,” she said quickly. She was still dressed in her gown from the ball, slightly stained with her mother’s blood.

“Lady Constance,” Robert exclaimed. He took a deep breath. “You really should retire to your room. You’ve had such an ordeal this evening. You need your rest.”

Mr. Punch quickly affected Julian’s voice and mannerisms. “Indeed, Lady Constance. If you find your accommodations unsuitable, I can ask…” he paused recalling that Speaight was still recovering on the floor of his bedchamber. “I can personally see to it that you’re made as comfortable as possible.”

“The rooms are suitable.” Lady Constance replied. “I’m unable to sleep. My head runs with images of my mother’s brutal death. To think that the person who murdered her is still in this house…”

“Lady Constance,” Mr. Punch said gently. “You needn’t fear. The person responsible has been killed herself. She is no threat to you now.”

“Herself?”

“I’m afraid that our governess…for strange reasons which I will not tire you with presently…was the culprit. She is, herself, no longer living.”

“God willing.” Robert muttered.

“She’s no longer living.” Punch repeated firmly.

“Your governess?” Lady Constance clucked her tongue. “She’s not the murderous party. Not in this instance at the least.”

“No?” Robert squinted.

“No.” Lady Constance shook her head. “It was the Baron Lensdown.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-157? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday for Chapter 159 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.
 

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