Showing posts with label Chapter 71. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter 71. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 71




Chapter 71
My Lad


The smell of burning tobacco was starting to make Georgie sick as Freddy and Gregory puffed away.  Even in the moonlight, George could tell that Freddy was quite pale and also feeling a bit queasy from the cigarettes he kept smoking.  Still he smoked as many as Gregory gave him as they walked.  

"Sure you don't want one, Pepper?" Gregory smiled.  "I got plenty.  Rolled a whole lot o' 'em this mornin'."

"No, thanks."  George shook his head.

"Your loss, mate."  Gregory shrugged.  "Follow me, then."

"Ain't Fallbridge Village that way?"  Freddy pointed.

"What of it?"  Gregory laughed.

"I thought you was takin' us to the pub."  Freddy frowned.

"No.  I said I was takin' ya for a bit o' fun."  Gregory laughed.

They continued to walk for what seemed to George like an eternity.

"Cor, where are ya takin' us?"  He asked finally.

"Just over this wall, then."  Gregory said.  "Hop over."  He pointed to a stone wall just ahead of them.

"What's on the other side?"  Freddy asked.

"Freedom."  Gregory winked.

"Is this the edge of the estate?"  George shook his head.

"It is."  Gregory nodded.

"What's there to do out here?"  George squinted.  "Don't look like there's anythin' but some ol' shack out there."

"Some old shack?"  Gregory chuckled.  "Don't let the proprietress hear ya say that.  She''ll be most properly offended."

"Proprietress?"  Freddy's eyes widened.  "Cor!"

"Does His Grace know this is out here?"  George wondered aloud.

"I doubt it would interest him."  Gregory chortled.  "These are not the duke's sort of diversions."

"What of the Land Agent or his bailiff?"

"I'd wager they're here right now."  Gregory laughed.

"What are we just standin' here for, then?"  Freddy bellowed.

"Many delights await you, lads."  Gregory smirked, gesturing toward the shack.  "After you."

"Don't mind if I do."  Freddy charged forward.

"George?"  Gregory grinned.

"Sure,"  George nodded.

"That's my lad."  Gregory replied.  "You won't regret it."


Did you miss Chapters 1-70 of A Recipe for Punch.  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 72.









Monday, June 25, 2012

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 71



Chapter 71: 

Otherwise 



Ach, Girl.” Mrs. North clucked her tongue. “Your silence tells me more than any words.”

“Mrs. North,” Gamilla said quickly. “This boy here, he was adopted in New Orleans—in America. His mama and papa died from the Yellow Fever at the same time the Duchess of Fallbridge died. His Grace—he adopted the boy out of love and kindness.”

“Why do you lie to me, Girl?” Mrs. North smiled.

“It’s not a lie, Mrs. North.” Charles spoke up.

“No, Ma’am.” Gerard shook his head. “That’s the truth.”

“Aye, boys.” Finlay chuckled. “There won’t be any convincin’ of Mrs. North otherwise. Once she makes up her mind, lads, she’s unmovable. I’ll tell ya this—I’ve known this woman since I were born and there wasn’t one time, not one, then, that I can think of when she wasn’t spot on.”

Gamilla, Charles and Gerard exchanged glances.

“Look, lass, I’m only tryin’ to protect the master and the family.” Mrs. North sighed. “How’m I to do that without the whole story?”

“But, Mrs. North.” Charles began…

“You English…” She clucked her tongue again. “You and your denials.”

“I’m not English.” Charles snorted.

“Nor am I.” Gamilla smiled.

Gerard shrugged. “I am. But…”

“You’re all loyal to the master?” Mrs. North asked.

“Certainly.” Charles nodded. “We all came with him from America. You’ll not find a group of people more loyal.”

“’Cept maybe here, lad.” Mrs. North winked. “How’s this for loyalty? I spent me life in this empty house—bein’ visited by the old master maybe five times and even less by His Grace when a man. Day in and day out, we fight to keep the Grange from fallin’ into the ground. No one knows. No one cares. So, why do we do it? Loyalty! All you in your fine townhouse—you see the Duke every day. He sees how keen ya are to help him. He can thank ya for a cup of tea. He can praise ya for paintin’ the balusters. Us? We get a letter at Christmas thankin’ all of us at once. Yet, we do our jobs for we wish to see the Molliner name be one of great pride. Maybe we don’t hear the London rumors as they’re spoken, but they come to me nonetheless. You can shut the gobs of them pages and clerks in the pubs what talk of the Duke, lads. And, you, Girl, you can stop the girls at the market quick enough. Sure, and maybe you know the truth, so it’s easy for ya to stop them talkin’! What do we know? One day, we hear the Duchess is dead and the Duke is the heir. One day we hear he has a new ward. We hear he’s mad! We hear he’s all sorts of things! What do we got to fight with, then? Just our loyalty—that’s what.”

Charles bit his lip.

“Mrs. North,” Gamilla spoke up. “We don’t doubt that you’re loyal to His Grace…”

“Then, why won’t ya confirm what I can see plain ‘nough on me own?” Mrs. North growled. “This tot is a Molliner sure ‘nough.”

Mrs. Pepper stormed into the servants’ hall from the kitchen. “Now, I’ve heard enough. Mr. Speaight always tells us that it’s not our place to discuss our betters.”

“And, where’s your Mr. Speaight now, Pepper? In his room with a wet rag on his head! You English—you’re all so high and mighty.”

“I won’t be spoken to that way in my kitchen!” Mrs. Pepper barked.

“Ain’t your kitchen, woman! It’s my kitchen. You’re a guest here.”

“Any place the Duke brings me is my kitchen.” Mrs. Pepper snapped.

“Sure, it is.” Mrs. North laughed.

“Well, I never…” Mrs. Pepper snorted.

“Sure ya have.” Mrs. North howled. She pointed at Colin. “You mean to tell me, Pepper, that this boy don’t look like His Grace to you?”

“I never thought of it,” Mrs. Pepper replied stiffly.

“So, think of it now!” Mrs. North said.

“It ain’t my place, Mrs. North!” Mrs. Pepper shouted.

“Yes!” Gamilla yelled above the din of the two women arguing.

“Yes?” Mrs. North smiled.

“Yes. Colin is the child of the Duke’s sister.” Gamilla said softly.

“Gamilla!” Mrs. Pepper scolded.

“Mrs. Pepper, she’d have found out one way or another. Besides, she already done knew.”

“But, you can’t say that.” Mrs. Pepper hissed. “You don’t know.”

“I do know.” Gamilla shook her head. “I know all too well.”

“We all do, Mrs. Pepper.” Gerard shook his head. “’Specially Charlie.”

“I…” Charles grumbled. “I…had a friendship with…the lady. The child is hers.”

“Are you the father, then?” Mrs. North asked.

“Is this true?” Mrs. Pepper sniffed.

“I’m not the boy’s father, Mrs. Pepper.” Charles replied. “But, the child was born of Lady Barbara. His Grace adopted the boy in order to protect him.”

“And you three kept this secret all this time?” Mrs. Pepper nodded.

“We did, Mrs. Pepper.” Gerard mumbled.

“And, it’s fine that ya did.” Mrs. North interrupted. “And, what’s just been said in this room is still a secret—not to leave these walls. You hear me, Finlay!”

“Yes, Mrs. North.” Finlay smiled.

“I’ll make leather of ya if I hear you say a word.” Mrs. North continued.

“I understand.” Finlay replied.

“As for you, Pepper,” Mrs. North smiled. “I understand what you was sayin’. But, I gotta know the truth. It’s the only way for me to know how to best look after the master.”

Mrs. Pepper sighed. “You Scots…”

“But, ya understand?”

“I do.” Mrs. Pepper nodded.

“So, who’s the father?” Mrs. North grinned.

“No one knows.” Charles replied.

“Really?” Mrs. North nodded. “So, Lady Barbara turned out to be round-heeled?”

“She was a…” Gerard began. He stopped, thinking better of it.

“Was she paid for it, then?” Mrs. Pepper asked, blushing.

“Now, now, Pepper.” Mrs. North laughed. “I thought you didn’t ask questions about your betters.”

“Clearly, this girl was no better of mine,” Mrs. Pepper replied firmly.

“Yes, Mrs. Pepper.” Gerard said softly.

“Poor lad.” Mrs. Pepper shook her head, looking at Colin. “He must never know.”

“Aye, and he won’t.” Mrs. North announced. “Now, we’ll not speak of this again! Back to work, all of ya! The master and Dr. Halifax will be goin’ for their walk soon ‘nough. I want tea ready for them when they return—that means Finlay, you show Charles and Gerard where…”

“I know me job, Mrs. North.” Finlay grumbled.

“None o’ your cheek, boy.” Mrs. Pepper and Mrs. North said in unison. They paused, both smiling at one another.

“As for you, Pepper…” Mrs. North said after inhaling. “You’re all right. But, I don’t care for your Mr. Speaight.”

“Still, Mrs. North,” Mrs. Pepper began. “He is your equal.”

“Aye.” Mrs. North frowned. “I’ll check on him, then. And, let him know he can plan tomorrow’s outing.”

Mrs. Pepper nodded and the two women walked into the kitchen together.

“Come on, Charles,” Finlay patted Charles on the back. “I’ll show ya the pantry.”

“Sure.” Charles nodded, following the man.

Alone with Gamilla and Colin, Gerard smiled. “My sweet, you handled that really well. I’m proud of you.”

Gamilla shook her head. “Didn’t know what to do. That woman she was…she was peckin’ at me like a hungry hen.”

“Like you said, she’d already figured it out.”

“I reckon.” Gamilla shrugged.

“We can trust her, ‘Milla.” Gerard nodded. “I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so.” Gamilla sighed, hugging Colin. “Don’t know what I’d do otherwise.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-70? If so you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 72 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 71

Just how is goin’ to some fool party gonna help us with what we need to do?” Mr. Punch frowned. “’Sides, ain’t like it’s tomorrow. Not even Christmas yet for a week. Don’t fancy numbers, I don’t, but I can tell ya that the changin’ of the year happens well after Christmas. Are you sayin,’ we’re gonna stay here all that long?”


“I am.” Robert coughed. “It’s not as if we can simply depart for England whenever we wish. We wouldn’t be able to sail for the continent for at least a fortnight anyway.”

“Don’t need to go to some ball!” Punch grumbled. “Got Barbara right here in this house. I say we snatch her up, make her tell us where the diamond is, hit her with a stick, put her in a sack and drag her hulk onto a ship. See, that solves the problem, right there.”

“Does it?” Robert smiled.

“Sorta.” Mr. Punch grunted.

“How do you think Iolanthe Evageline will react when we put Barbara in a sack and take her to England? Have you forgotten that the ‘ogress’ fairly well owns Lady Barbara? We’ve seen that Miss Evangeline doesn’t care to have her possessions taken from her. We know what she tried to do to poor Naasir. She has at her disposal an army of people.”

“As the legend goes, so it is.” Naasir whispered.

“Oh,” Punch sighed. “There he goes again ‘bout the legend.”

“It’s true, Mr. Punch,” Naasir said politely.

Punch walked over the mantelpiece and leaned on it, putting Julian’s head in his hands. He began to mutter to himself as he often did. “Don’t know what’s goin’ on, I don’t. Chum wants to go to some ball. Gotta get all dressed in some bleedin’ uncomfortable thing what’s gonna pinch me neck. Got the girl right here, we do. Hit her with a stick. That’s the way to do it. Gotta stick somewhere I do. Easy to do. But, no, we gotta wait cuz we don’t want to make the ogress thing angry, we don’t. The other one’s talkin’ ‘bout stories what don’t make no sense. Oughta just hit her with a stick, bring her back to England.”

Robert sighed roughly and gestured to Naasir. “I think we’ve upset him.”

Naasir widened his eyes and looked helpless.

“Would you bring him back over here?” Robert smiled.

Naasir nodded.

“Mr. Punch, Sir?” Naasir whispered. “Dr. Halifax wants you to come to him.”

Mr. Punch grumbled, but did as requested. He flopped onto the bed next to Robert.

“Sometimes, me Chum, you’re not any fun at all. Listen, we could be doin’ all sorts o’ things. I got legs, see. Not puppet legs neither, but man legs what can do things. When you get better, you and I can live at me master’s big house in Belgravia, we could. We could walk ‘round Covent Garden and eat sweeties and see me kin what still work in the tent. Oh, and we could sing—loud like, mind. It’d be a lark! Why make ourselves wait? I got me master in here and all. He’ll come, too. All three of us could be nice and content-like.”

Robert tilted his head to one side and thought about what Punch had said. He hadn’t really considered going forward as “three of us.” He’d rather counted on just having Julian at his side. The idea of Mr. Punch also being a part of it was appealing in its way, but also more complicated than Robert had imagined. Interesting, but complicated.

Robert smiled. “Dear Punch, you know that I want to go back to London as much as you do. I’ve enjoyed being near Cecil and Adrienne, but our home is elsewhere. And, I would like very much to have that life in Belgrave Square. I’d like to see Julian return to his trade and regain the success and reputation that are so rightfully his. I want a peaceful life.”

“The three of us?” Mr. Punch asked softly.

“Inasmuch as you and Julian are individuals, yes, the three of us.” Robert nodded. “However, we won’t have the peaceful life you speak of if Iolanthe Evangeline remains a threat. Consider your plan. If we just take Barbara back to Her Grace, the ‘ogress’ will become enraged. She’ll set her henchmen on Cecil and Adrienne. She’ll stop at nothing to exact her revenge. We can’t let that happen. We can’t, in good conscience, leave for England knowing that we’ve left our family in peril.”

Julian’s eyes became moist as Mr. Punch choked back a sob. “And the little man, Fuller.”

“Correct.” Robert nodded.

“So, how’s goin’ to a ball gonna protect ‘em?”

“It’s my understanding that the elite of New Orleans will all be in attendance—as they always are—at Edward Cage’s ball. With the Rittenhouses, The Cages, The Fontanals, and all of the other wealthy, powerful people of New Orleans and its surrounding towns in one place, you can be sure that Iolanthe Evangeline will be present. It’s a masque, you know. Everyone will be in fancy dress. I’m certain she will slip in to make conquests and further line her pockets. That will be our opportunity to confront her publicly and bring her to some sort of justice in a situation where we will be protected. With Iolanthe out of the way, her influence on Barbara may fade and we can bring her back to England willingly—possibly with the Molliner Blue.”

“Without havin’ to hit her with a stick?”

“Precisely.” Robert coughed.

“Here, what ‘bout her baby what she sold?” Mr. Punch asked.

“That, dear Punch, I cannot answer.” Robert sighed.

Meanwhile, Adrienne climbed the wide stone steps to the grand front door of the Cage’s mansion. Cecil followed closely behind her.

“Darling,” Cecil whispered. “Are you quite sure you want to do this?”

“Quite.” Adrienne grinned. She caressed the small package she held in her hands. “Quite.” She repeated. She knocked on the thick door.

“We can turn back.” Cecil whispered quickly.

A liveried man with intelligent eyes opened the door.

“We’ve come to visit with Mrs. Cage.” Adrienne said. “We’ve brought a gift for the new baby.”

The man looked nervous.

“Will you announce us?” Adrienne said as she swept into the foyer. Cecil smiled anxiously and followed his wife.

“Please, wait here.” The man said formally in a voice that clearly was not his usual way of speaking, but rather one that had been trained into him.

“Of course.” Adrienne said, taking a seat on a silk-covered chair beneath the winding staircase.

Cecil shifted his weight uncomfortably while they waited.

Corliss Cage timidly emerged from an archway at the rear of the hall. She looked frail and each step she took seemed to cause her great pain.

“Mr. and Mrs. Halifax,” She said in a voice so faint, they could barely hear her. “How kind of you to come.”

“Mrs. Cage,” Adrienne began. “Carling Rittenhouse told us of your joyous news. We were so pleased. And, what a surprise; we had no idea you were expecting a blessed event.”

Corliss stiffened, her hands shook. “We did not make the news widely known.”

“A fine baby boy,” Adrienne smiled. “So, I’m told.”

“Yes.” Corliss nodded. “We thought that young Orman should have a brother. He’s too much with his cousin, Edolie, you know. We thought that having a male companion would be good for him.”

“How fortunate that you were blessed with a son, then.” Adrienne said gently.

“Yes.” Corliss whispered. “Edward is quite beside himself with happiness.”

“We’ve brought a small token to mark the arrival of your son.” Adrienne smiled, handing the package to Corliss. “It’s a silver cup. We could have it engraved for you if you like. We didn’t, however, know the child’s full name.”

“Holt.” Mrs. Cage said weakly. “Edward has called him Holt. Holt Barden Cage.”

“A fine name. Tell me, does he favor you or Mr. Cage?” Cecil asked.

“Pardon?” Corliss shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s too soon to say. He looks like himself. His eyes…such bright eyes.”

“May we see him?” Adrienne asked.

“Now?” Mrs. Cage looked startled.

“If it’s convenient.” Cecil answered quickly.

“He’s…sleeping.” Corliss said.

“We won’t disturb him.” Adrienne said. “They’re so darling when they’re asleep, aren’t they?”

“Orman wasn’t.” Corliss frowned. “He was fitful even when in slumber. This one seems calm enough.”

An awkward silence filled the hall.

“I do love babies.” Adrienne said, finally. “Their smell, their sweet softness.”

“Yes, what a delight.” Mrs. Cage responded flatly.

“Do you think we could see him?” Adrienne asked again. “We’ll be very quiet. Believe me, I know how to not wake a baby.”

Mrs. Cage looked blankly at the wall between Cecil and Adrienne. She paused there for several seconds before vacantly answering, “I don’t see any harm in it.”

Another awkward pause crept up on them.

“Shall we, then?” Cecil said.

“Allow me a moment to check on it…him, first.” Corliss whispered.

“We shall wait here.” Cecil nodded.

Corliss tentatively made her way up the steep spiral of the grand staircase, clutching the banister as she went.

Adrienne sighed once the woman was out of sight.

“My dear,” Cecil said softly to his wife. “We don’t have to do this.”

“You would leave a child with that woman?” Adrienne asked innocently. “You saw her. She’s drained of all life.”

“There are other ways.” Cecil said.

“We don’t have time for other ways.” Adrienne argued gently. “Darling, we have to take action.”

“For what, exactly?” A man’s voice boomed from the front door as Edward Cage swaggered into the house. “For what do you need to take action, my pretty, little French woman?”



Did you miss Chapters 1-70? If so, you can read them here.