Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 361

Chapter 361
Floor Plans



"Ma,"  Georgie squinted, "What's takin' Maudie so long?"

"Dunno, dearie."  Mrs. Pepper shook her head.  

"All she were to do was to go downstairs and grab some fresh nappies."  George shook his head.

"Poor thing don't know where to look, I s'pect."  Mrs. Pepper said.  "We ain't exactly used to the world of the nursery."

"Everyone knows where Gamilla keeps the linens."  George frowned.  "Maybe I'd best go down."

"You're to stay right here, George."  Mrs. Pepper said firmly.  "Leave Ruthy to Charles and Vi."

"That's just it, Ma."  Georgie shook his head.  "I don't want nothin' to do with Ruthy.  I'm scared maybe Maudie somehow got caught up in what's goin' on down there."

"She knows better."  Ethel spoke up from her spot in the rocking chair where she held Colin.  "Besides, she didn't even have to go through the servants' hall to get to the laundry.  Mrs. P were very clear 'bout what she were to do.  Our Maudie's no fool.  She's got a head for gettin' places.  Why, she told me that when she worked at Hamish House, she knew all the cleverest ways in and out.  She'll be right back."

"So don't worry, Georgie."  Mrs. Pepper added.

"Ain't no trick to gettin' 'round a house,"  Georgie muttered.  "'Specially here where all these big houses is just alike."

"On, that ain't true."  Ethel protested.  "Maybe they look the same on the outside, but they ain't at all alike on the inside.  No, not at all."

"Like you know."  George frowned.  "Like you been in any o' these other houses."

"Maybe she ain't, love," Mrs. Pepper smiled, "but our Ethel is right.  They're all different.  Hamish House ain't near as big as ours.  In fact, ours is the biggest on this side of the square. And, they're laid out all different."

"Is that so?"  George asked his mother.

"It is.  I've been in the servants' halls of others, and even the downstairs is all different.  Many've been done over.  Some were built a certain way for a certain family.  Take this house, dearie, ya know that bit behind my range?  Ever gone back there?"

"No."  

"You ain't?"  Ethel scoffed.

"Why would I?"  George frowned.

"Curiosity, maybe."  Ethel grinned.

"Well, son, if you ever do, you'll see there's a whole fireplace back there and a neat little row o' shelves from before His Grace bought the lease."

"Maudie says she found places in Hamish House that she didn't think no one else knew 'bout."  Ethel nodded.

"Well, clearly she don't know here way 'round this house near as well."  George stood up.  "She's been gone far too long.  I'm goin' to fetch 'er."

Mrs. Pepper squinted and sighed.  "She 'as been gone a bit too long.  Maybe you'd best go look.  But, be smart.  And, stay clear of Charles and Vi--let them take care of the traitorous Ruthy."

"I'll be back in a tick, Ma."

"Georgie!"  Ethel said quickly.  "Be safe, right?"

"I will, Ethel,"  George smiled.

George opened the nursery door, looked up and down the hallway and hurried toward the service stairs.

"I hope Maudie's all right."  Ethel frowned.

"I'm sure she is, Ethel."  Mrs. Pepper nodded.  "She's probably just listenin' to them scream at Ruthy.  Or, maybe Mr. Speaight has returned and he's put her to work.  Who knows?  Could be His Grace and His Lordship are back and are tellin' what the Queen said."

"Or Gerard and Her Ladyship.  Or even...well, dare I think it?  Gamilla."

Mrs. Pepper nodded again.  "If only."

"I feel bad, Mrs. P."  Ethel said softly.

"We all do.  We love Gamilla, each of us."

"But, also...sittin' in 'ere in 'er chair, holdin' this baby.  I feel content, and I know it's wrong."  Ethel admitted.

"Why wouldn't ya, dearie?  You're good with the child.  And, it's not often you get to be anywhere this comfortable.  If I didn't hate the thought of you not bein' downstairs with me, I'd recommend to His Grace that you'd be a good nursery maid.  Heaven knows they'll not be keepin' Ruthy after what she done."

"Me?  A nursery maid?"

"And why not?"  Mrs. Pepper replied.  "But, now ain't the time to speak of it."

"No, of course."  Ethel answered.  She glanced up at the mantle clock.  "Seems Georgie's been gone for awhile, too."

"I was just thinkin' the same thing."  Mrs. Pepper rose.  As she did, the door opened and George rushed in.

"What is it, son?"  Mrs. Pepper asked.

"Maudie's gone!"  George barked.  "Charles and Vi said she didn't even come into the servants' hall.  They been down there the hall time, right by the stairs.  They got Ruthy locked in the cupboard by the area, waitin' to see what the Duke says to do with 'er.  Maudie ain't been down there."

"Where could she 'ave gone?"  Mrs. Pepper gasped.

"Hamish House,"  Ethel shook her head.  "The fool!  I'd bet anything on it.  I wager she's gone to try to get Gamilla!"


Did you miss Chapters 1-360 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 362.  

Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 361

Gamilla sat on the floor and nervously wrung her hands together as she watched over the Duke of Fallbridge. This was the first “work” she’d done since she’d accidentally been poisoned and she was still quite tired and ill. Nevertheless, she couldn’t refuse Dr. Halifax and Marjani when they asked her to watch the Duke while they went up the street with Edward Cage’s man, Odo. So much was happening and she felt sorry for the family for whom she worked. They had always been so kind to her. The least she could do was sit with the Duke who lay unconscious on the floor beside her.


Still, she worried. What if something happened to the Duke while the doctor and Marjani where gone. Meridian was resting. Gerard had followed Mr. and Mrs. Halifax to help look for the missing children as had the other servants. She was, essentially, alone in the house with the exception of little Columbia who had been sent back to bed.

What if the Duke had some sort of fit? Gamilla wouldn’t know what to do. What if he awakened while the others were gone? What would she tell him? She studied her employer. Such an odd man. She’d long ago made her peace with the fact that he acted strangely. She accepted that he was two different people on one body. In fact, she actually preferred Mr. Punch to the Duke himself. Sure, the Duke was kind and gentle. But, he was so quiet and sad-looking. Mr. Punch, on the other hand, was full of life—jokes and laughter. He was rough, certainly, but at least he didn’t have the pained expression that the Duke always wore. That face broke her heart. Mr. Punch made her smile.

As he—or they—were, he seemed rather peaceful. He looked, mostly, just like he was sleeping. Gamilla wondered what he was thinking about, if anything. She’d spied Mr. Punch sleeping before—on a few occasions when he’d curled up in front of the fire for a nap with the dog, Toby. In fact, Mr. Punch was rather like a dog himself. He liked to eat and to play and he was always so excited to learn new things. He even slept like a dog, his hands drawn up to his chest like paws, muttering and twitching as he dreamt. But, he didn’t mutter or twitch now—he just lay there. It reminded Gamilla of when her little sister lay dead after a long illness. Her little body was so still.

Gamilla began to panic. What if the Duke was dead? Cautiously, she leaned forward and strained to listen. No. He was breathing. She took a deep breath of relief.

Doctor Halifax had told her to talk to the Duke while he lay there. What would she say?

“Sir,” Gamilla began nervously. “I don’t know what you’re doin’. But, I hope you’re comfortable. What you thinkin’ ‘bout, Sir?”

What did Dukes think about? What did men like Mr. Punch think about? The latter question was easy to answer. Mr. Punch thought about food—biscuits and sausages and warm potatoes. Gamilla could understand that. But, what of the Duke? Did he think about diamonds and gold? Did he think about important problems? Maybe that’s why he was always so sad-looking. As much as she tried, Gamilla would never have been able to guess what Julian, the Duke of Fallbridge was thinking at that moment. Nor could she imagine what was happening inside his mind.

For as his body lay on the floor of the parlor in their borrowed house on Royal Street, Julian was far away—in a vision of his estate in England, side-by-side with Mr. Punch, as they watched long-buried memories unfold before them.

“It’s suddenly gone cold,” Julian said as he and Mr. Punch walked through their imagined world.

“Sure it has,” Punch nodded. “It’s winter now. Just before Christmas.”

“What year?”

“Dunno.” Punch shrugged. “You’re about six years of age.”

“1825, then?”

“Sounds ‘bout right.” Punch nodded. “George is the King. I remember that cuz our pa talked ‘bout him a lot.”

“George IV,” Julian frowned.

“That’s the one. Coo! Ain’t you clever, knowin’ who was King and when and what number George he was, too.” Punch smiled.

“It’s not miraculous to remember the name of the Sovereign.” Julian chuckled.

“It is for me. I don’t pay no attention to such things. I only got one King, Master. And, that’s you.”

“Good heavens,” Julian groaned. “I’m the King of nothing.”

“What kind of talk is that?” Punch asked. “I won’t hear none of it.”

“My apologies,” Julian nodded. “So, it’s the winter of 1825 and we’re at Fallbridge Hall. Where are we going?”

“Here.” Punch pointed.

Suddenly, they were inside the Hall, in the Duchess’ private chambers. Julian cringed upon seeing his mother. She sat in her enormous gilt chair with the bronze mounts of swans for arms. Before her stood young Julian. Punch had been correct. He seemed to be about six years old.

“Stop sniffling!” The Duchess spat at her young son. “You are revolting.”

“I’m sorry, mummy,” Little Julian whispered.

“You’re always sorry about something, aren’t you?” The Duchess sighed.

“I’ll try to be good.” Little Julian continued.

“It makes no difference to me what you do.” The Duchess laughed. “You’re going on an adventure for a few days so that I can have some peace and quiet.”

“Is Papa going, too?”

“No!” The Duchess bellowed. “Your father has better things to do than go to London with you!”

“Oh.”

“You’ll go with Nanny.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to go away.” The Duchess grumbled. “You’ll like London. You’ll see all sorts of things. The Abbey and St. James Palace.”

“I don’t want to see things. I want to stay here.”

“Well, you can’t!” The Duchess snapped.

As they watched the scene in front of them, the adult Julian stepped backwards.

“Somethin’ troublin’ you, Master?” Punch asked quietly.

“I won’t go. Don’t go! Don’t let him go!” Julian pleaded with Mr. Punch.

“It’s too late, Master. It’s already happened.” Punch said soothingly. “All you gotta do is watch.”

“No.” Julian shook his head. “You know what’s going to happen as well as I! Don’t make me watch it.”

“You gotta,” Punch shook his head. “It’s time.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-360? If so, you can read them here.