Friday, November 12, 2010

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 95

With Fuller nestled in Adrienne’s arms and Cecil napping by the fireplace—full of the delectable breakfast that they had enjoyed, Robert surveyed the drawing room. The floor was strewn with bits of colored paper and ribbon. Mr. Punch sat in the middle of the floor playing with his new puppet and having a grand time entertaining Toby with a personal pantomime. Punch was muttering in his usual way as he played, making the puppet dance awkwardly with his injured hands. The dog didn’t seem to mind the fact that Mr. Punch’s soft chatter was barely recognizable as actual words. Toby could tell that his master was happy, and that was enough for him. Robert hoped the Mr. Punch’s master was just as joyful—wherever he was, somewhere inside the body that they shared.


So as not to disturb Mr. Punch and Adrienne, Robert rose slowly and walked to the sideboard at the rear of the drawing room where Cecil had placed the basket of “treats” that Agnes Rittenhouse had brought earlier that morning.

He studied the contents of the basket. Oranges, walnuts, hard biscuits and sticky cakes were tucked inside. Some of the contents were wrapped in tissue. The fruit gleamed with an unnatural sheen as if it had been coated in oil. Robert ran his finger across the surface of one of the oranges and sniffed it.

He was startled when a wooden head crept around his shoulder and tapped him on the neck with a cool, hard nose.

“Whatcha doin’, Chum?” Mr. Punch said either as himself or in an attempt to make the puppet talk. Robert wasn’t sure which.

“I’m just inspecting this so-called gift.” Robert smiled.

“Not thinkin’ ‘bout eatin’ it, are ya?” Mr. Punch asked.

“Hardly.” Robert grinned. “I’ve already been poisoned once in the last six weeks, I don’t fancy another go at it.”

“Let’s just get rid o’ it.” Mr. Punch shrugged, still holding the puppet aloft.

“We will,” Robert said softly. “In time. But, first, I’d like to examine it a little closer. I’m going to take it up to my room.”

“Here, what for?” Mr. Punch asked.

“Because, dear Punch, if the contents of this basket are poisoned, I’d like to discover with what they’ve been poisoned.”

“What’s it matter? Bad stuff is bad stuff.” Mr. Punch said, tapping Robert again with the puppet’s wooden head.

“That’s true,” Robert nodded slowly. “However, perhaps by figuring out what this is, we can use the same weapons to fight our enemies.”

“Not gonna do nothin’ bad, are ya?” Mr. Punch frowned. “We know how that goes, don’t we? Look at what happened with Arthur. Eaten up with pain, we both was—thinking I’d hurt him.”

“I don’t intend to harm anyone physically, dear Punch.” Robert smiled. “However, this could be just the thing we need to see that those who have harmed us are brought to justice.”

“But, we’re playin’.” Mr. Punch frowned. “It’s me first Christmas. Can’t we play for a spell?”

“We’ll play.” Robert nodded. “Just let me take this out of this room. I’ll return.”

“Good, cuz look at all them lovely toys what Fuller got for himself today. We gotta help him play with them when he wakes up. And, Toby wants some attention, too, he does. Ain’t no good just me playin’ with him, he wants his Uncle Robert, too.”

“We’ll have a grand time. I promise.” Robert said reassuringly. He picked up the basket and headed for the entry hall. “I will return forthwith.”

Mr. Punch grunted and went back to his spot on the floor.

“What is he doing?” Adrienne whispered.

“Dunno ‘xactly.” Mr. Punch said quietly so as not to wake Cecil or the baby. “Doctor stuff, I ‘spose.”

Adrienne looked concerned.

“Here, Lady Chum, while Cecil’s snorin’, let me say how sorry I am that Barbara stole them things from ya.”

“I knew the risks when I invited her into this house. I’d so hoped I could help her.”

“She always stole things, she did.” Mr. Punch continued. “When she were a little thing, Nanny took her to the village. That’s before me master moved to London and still stayed at the Hall—before our pa went on all his voyages. Me master were ‘bout twenty –somethin’ then. Barbara went into one of the shops in the village with Nanny and she stole chocolates and licorice. But, what was the shopkeep to do? Couldn’t scold little Lady Fallbridge. Just let her take what she wanted and Nanny said nothin’ ‘bout it at all. Not a word. Barbara bragged to me master, she did. Julian were ever-so angry. He scolded her, but Her Grace told him not to. That’s when it started. First licorice, then other things. Silver brushes and shiny things. Don’t know why I’m surprised she stole the diamond from her own brother. She’s always been a bad lot.”

“Even the worst of us can be redeemed.” Adrienne sighed.

“You really believe that, then, Lady Chum?” Mr. Punch asked softly.

“I have to, Punch.” Adrienne nodded.

At that very moment, Barbara Allen was growling at Agnes Rittenhouse.

“I’m not your charge anymore, Nanny.” Barbara spat. “I will not be led anywhere by you—least of all by the command of Ulrika Rittenhouse!”

“Haven’t I supported you?” Miss Rittenhouse said. “Didn’t I accompany you here? Without my assistance, you’d never have rid yourself of that child, you’d never have gotten a place in my cousin’s household. You’d not be where you are today were it not for me.”

“That’s hardly an endorsement for your kindness!” Barbara grimaced. “Look at me! I’m freezing on the streets. The diamond is missing and my husband is…” She frowned at Arthur. “All you’ve done is gotten me into a terrible spot.”

“I’ve gotten you where you wanted to be.” Agnes narrowed her eyes. “You wanted to associate with this Evangeline woman. This was your plan! I’ve helped you. Now, I have orders to bring you both with me.”

“You take your orders from that red-haired bitch now?” Barbara hissed.

“You’ve given me no choice, Lady Barbara.” Agnes responded.

“Don’t call me that!” Barbara said angrily. “My name is Barbara Allen!”

“And a fitting name it is, too.” Miss Rittenhosue responded.

“You know that woman has my…” Barbara began.

“That’s enough, Pet.” Arthur grabbed Barbara’s arm.

“Let go of me.” Barbara struggled.

“You want this to be done with, don’t you?” Arthur continued.

“I want nothing more than to return to New Orleans and to Iolanthe Evangeline—with what I’ve promised her.”

“Then kindly do as the old hag says.” Arthur grinned.

Agnes scowled.

Arthur whispered in Barbara’s ear, “You want the bloody diamond, don’t you?”

Barbara winced.

“Then, come on. This is workin’ out just as I wanted.” Arthur winked.

Meanwhile, in the mansion at the crest of La Colline Cramoisie, Ulrika Rittenhouse sat at her writing table and scribbled furiously on a piece of paper. She tried to disguise her handwriting, making deliberate, child-like letters.

When she’d finished, she grinned and read her work aloud.

Dear Mother,


This madness is too great a burden for me to carry. I am a lost soul. Nothing can save me. You will be comforted to know that I will suffer no more.


With affection.


Julian, Lord Fallbridge



Did you miss Chapters 1-94? If so, you can read them here.

4 comments:

Dashwood said...

Besides the intrigue that continues to develop, you've done a very nice job of showing a 19th Century Christmas. Thank you.

Joseph Crisalli said...

Thank you, Dashwood! Many of our Christmas traditions became standardized during this period. For as much as people think of the Victorian era as being "a long time ago," it really wasn't THAT long ago. Much of our collective culture developed during that period. By keeping those ideals alive, we can move forward and grow from strong roots.

Darcy said...

I'm glad our "chums" got to enjoy a beautiful Christmas morning, because they'll need all their energy to fight what ever comes next.

Joseph Crisalli said...

How true, Darcy. Not only will there be a good deal of fireworks at the New Years Masquerade, but there's also a nasty epidemic of the Yellow Fever in store for 1853. They'd best enjoy the peace and quiet while they can. Thanks for reading!