Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 164

Chapter 164:
Wake 

Johnny Donnan gnawed his rough, dirty fingertips—grabbing with his teeth at the hardened, sharp points of skin which fanned out from the edges of his fingernails and tearing them off. Thin trails of blood cut through the grime on the man’s large hands.

“Ach.” He growled, trudging through the hay and dung of the stables to the spot where he’d taken “Ellen’s” body. At the rear of the cold, stone stables, in a vacant stall, Johnny had arranged the straw into a bed of sorts. In the center of it, he lowered the body of the woman he thought was his daughter.

He knelt beside her.

“Ya look like yer ma.” Johnny murmured.

He recalled the Duchess of Fallbridge. He knew he’d caught her eye. He was young and lean then. He looked, in fact, a bit like Finlay—the same cleft chin, the same sharp nose. He had been fit and strong. Of course the duchess fancied him. He rather fancied her. Sure, she seemed so high and mighty in her fine gowns and jewels. Yes, she had that stiffness that her kind always had, and, yes, she had that stony face. But, Johnny knew, she was a woman and wanted the same thing as any other woman.

They had delighted in one another—the stableman and the duchess. She liked to be struck and he liked doing the striking. They’d enjoyed their times together and, Johnny remembered, he even liked the imperious manner in which she’d order him out of the cottage once she’d finished with him.

Too bad about the baby. Johnny’d thought that the issue of the little girl had been handled. And, then, she returned. Or so he thought. He’d only seen her the once. Then, too, she’d lay in the straw in that very spot.

As Johnny gazed down at “Ellen’s” bloodied face, he had no idea that the woman who he’d so carefully arranged in the straw was not really his daughter. She did, after all, resemble the duchess, and, she even favored his side of the family a bit.

Staring at the woman’s body, he thought for a moment that he’d liked to have known her better. His other children were a disappointment. Finlay was…well, Johnny couldn’t stand to think of Finlay. The other boy had been weak, too. That’s why he died as an infant. But, this one—she seemed like a real woman—strong and determined. Perhaps she was like him.

“Lass…” Johnny whispered. “It’s yer da’. Open yer pretty eyes, then. I’ll not be havin’ no wake here—not tonight. Let’s have time, then. You’ll have a drink for yer da’ at me own wake. But, not this way. Not now.”

The woman didn’t move.

Johnny put his hand on the girl’s stomach. Was there breath in her? It had seemed that she was breathing when he had carried her from the nursery.

“No.” Johnny shook his head. “The lass is dead. Dead and gone.”

He gnashed his teeth.

“I’ll make him pay, that mad…” Johnny muttered. “Duke or no, ain’t no one take a hand to one of Johnny’s children, ‘cept him.”

There it was again—a faint movement of the girl’s stomach. Was she drawing breath?

“Open yer eyes, lass.” Johnny repeated.

Still, she did not.

Johnny frowned.

“Yer called ‘Ellen,’ then.” Johnny Donnan continued. “You came here to get what’s rightfully yers. Open yer eyes, and I’ll help ya get it, lass. If you’re dead, then all I got is Finlay. A man wants more than that. Come on then.”

Johnny leaned back on the stall’s partition and began biting at his hands again. He coughed.

“If you weren’t dead, lass, I’d go up to that house with ya and help ya tear that Duke to shreds with our own fingers.”

Johnny rubbed his eyes. Had he just seen… Then, yes…yes, it was true. The woman’s stomach rose.

“Ach.” Johnny grunted, leaning forward. “Come back, Ellen.”

The woman’s eyes fluttered, and, then, opened.

“There’s me girl.” Johnny grinned.

The slightest of smiles passed across “Ellen’s” lips.



Did you miss Chapters 1-163? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 165.