Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 29

Chapter 29:

Any Such Control

Robert walked home—his mind racing with thoughts of Mr. Barrett’s situation.  He’d spent the entire day in the small, stuffy, but clean, suite of rooms which Ellen Barrett had hired for her youngest brother to share with the man she paid to look after him.  Robert had talked with the man, Scotty, for many hours and learned quite a lot about Mr. Barrett.  Robert scribbled page after page of notes and, when it was all over, told Scotty that while he had no new ideas about how to assist Mr. Barrett, he would give the matter serious thought.  Scotty seemed very relieved and confessed that he had long wished to leave the situation since he found Mr. Barrett most difficult at times.  However, Scotty confessed, knowing that he would have the support of Dr. Halifax and a man as important as the Duke of Fallbridge filled him with enough hope to allow him to remain at Mr. Barrett’s side.

This, at least, was something positive, Robert thought as he walked.  Yet, he wished he knew how to proceed.  Certainly he’d learned quite a lot from the time spent there that day, but it wasn’t enough.  Mr. Barrett—though overtaken by a similar state of mind to that of the Duke of Fallbridge—was quite a different case altogether.  Where Mr. Punch was always neatly in control of the various entities within the Duke’s body, Mr. Barrett had no persona who exhibited any such control.  Furthermore, while Mr. Punch’s humors where mostly quite steady, Mr. Barrett’s were, completely erratic.  There seemed to be no obvious pattern to the appearance of one entity over another nor were the events and thoughts which triggered these appearances given to any bit of sense or obviousness.

Robert shook his head as he walked.  He couldn’t wait to be home, to sit and rest with Mr. Punch, to feel the warmth of Colin on his lap and to pet the soft fur of Dog Toby.  Furthermore, he was quite hungry.  He refused to eat any of the meager food that Scotty had kept at Mr. Barrett’s hired rooms.  Their supplies were limited, and, in fact, Robert had promised to ask Mrs. Pepper to assemble a handsome hamper of assorted foods which he could bring on his next visit.

Ahead of Robert, Belgrave Square gleamed white and regal.  Night had begun to fall and candles, oil lamps and glimmering chandeliers could be seen twinkling through the tall windows of each home.  Footmen and maids would soon be closing the handsome drapes which surely hung on each of those windows.  The closer Robert got to the square, the more at ease he began to feel and he couldn’t help but smile when he pictured the cheerful smile of Mr. Punch, the soft, round cheeks of Colin and Dog Toby’s wagging tail.  Robert, indeed, even looked forward to the bemused twinkle in Speaight’s eye, the gentle muttering of Gamilla, the sly grin of Charles and the open, honest expression of Gerard. 

He’d never had a real home to which to return, Robert hadn’t.  As a boy, they had moved so frequently.  When he was very small, he and Cecil enjoyed living in a modest, but proud house in Wimbledon, but as their father’s debts grew, their residences grew smaller and sadder.  By the time he and Cecil were adolescents, they were living in a filthy room which they shared—for awhile, at least, with their poor mother.  While Cecil worked, Robert would do odd jobs—when not studying.  He could recall coming back to that room and dreading it.  Then, as a man, Robert put what little finds he had into his practice.  His home was clean, but nothing special and nothing comfortable—certainly not the kind of place for which a young man would yearn.  But, now, thanks to the Duke/Mr. Punch, he could return to a fine mansion filled with beautiful furnishings—soft, warm, elegant, wonderful furnishings.  And, still, the best thing of all was seeing Punch’s bright, loving eyes and broad grin, hearing his wild laughter and watching him bound about the house in that joyful manner that was entirely his own.  That was home and Robert loved it.

The challenges of the day began to melt away as, across Belgrave Square, Robert spotted No. 65.  Within lay all for which Robert had ever wished.  Someone to love, someone to love him—a child as well.  Robert pictured what must have been going on behind those tall, bright white walls.  Inside, for sure, Mr. Punch was seated somewhere with Colin and Dog Toby.  Perhaps the child was cuddled up next to the terrier while Punch sat with his sketchpad and pencils—working on the drawings of the jewels which Prince Albert had commissioned.  Speaight would be decanting the wine in his pantry while Mrs. Pepper stirred her giant pots, content yet complaining.  Violet would be setting the table in the servants’ hall so that after upstairs dinner, they could enjoy their own lovely meal.  Jenny would be flitting around, trying to respond to each of Mrs. Pepper’s barks while, forever unseen, Ether would be humming as she scrubbed in the scullery.  Gerard and Gamilla would have been lighting lamps and flirting with each other in their own private way while Charles worried over the placement of the silver on the long, shining dining room table.  Perhaps Tom would be lighting the grates or snatching the boots which needed blacking.  Ellen would be upstairs, folding blankets in the nursery or picking up the many toys which Punch and Colin had pulled down throughout the day.  Just then, Robert imagined, Punch would look up at the repeating French framed clock in the library, where he liked to sit at that time of the day, and wonder where his “chum” was.

Robert’s pace quickened.  He could almost taste Mrs. Pepper’s dinner.  He could almost feel Punch’s strong, think fingers rubbing the day from his shoulders.  He could almost smell the sweet scent of Colin’s fine auburn hair as the child drifted off to sleep.  Yes, he could almost feel Dog Toby butting his head into his shins in welcome and the gentle slap of the terrier’s tail wagging in sheer delight to see his other master.

Suddenly, nothing else mattered than setting foot into that house—his first true home.

“Robert!” A familiar voice called from across the square.

Robert tired to ignore it.  Surely, it wasn’t meant for him.  Who there would call him anything other than “Dr. Halifax?”  Even Punch rarely referred to him by his given name.  Usually Robert’s companion called him “Chum” or “Doctor Chum” or…other more affectionate things, and even when Punch did refer to him by his first name it was usually, “My Robert.”

“Robert Halifax!” The voice repeated.

Robert shook his head.  He knew who was calling and he was resolute to appear to have not heard.  No. 65 was so close, he could almost smell the lovely roast that Mrs. Pepper was preparing for upstairs dinner.

“Come on, then!” the voice shouted.  “I know you hear me!”

Robert grunted and paused to turn around.  There, behind the wrought iron fence of the square’s central garden, sat William Stover, on a low stone bench.

“How ever did you manage to gain entrance?”  Robert shook his head.

“Kind old lady let me in when I said I knew Dr. Halifax..” William smiled.  “I told her I wanted to study some of these handsome sculptures.”  William stood up and joined Robert on the street side of the garden.  “You’re looking very well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stover.”

“It’s come to this, then?” William chuckled.  “Mr. Stover, am I?  I suppose I should call you ‘Dr. Halifax,’ then?”

“I think so, yes.” Robert nodded.

William looked at the ground.  “This isn’t quite the reunion I was imagining.”

“What did you expect, Mr. Stover?”

“I thought, perhaps, you’d be somewhat glad to see me.”

Robert frowned.  “I’m not displeased.  I’m not pleased.  To be honest, Mr. Stover, my only thought is that I wish to go home.”

“And a fine home it is.  You’ve done well for yourself.” William smirked.

“Why are you here, Mr. Stover?” Robert interrupted.

“Why do you think?”

“You weren’t able to see me yesterday.  Now, you have.  You’ve seen me.  So, you can go now.”

“Steady on.”  William smiled.  “I took quite a bit of time to see you and I aim to talk.  Sure, this isn’t my first try.  I did come yesterday and failed.  I wasn’t able to see you today, either,” William winked. 

“You just have.”

“I meant when I visited earlier.”

“Pardon me?”

William walked closer.  “I went to your house earlier.  Number six-five behind them fine pillars right over there.”

“I wasn’t home.”

“I know.” William chuckled.  “However, the Duke was ever so kind to speak with me.”

“You spoke with His Grace?” Robert’s eyes flickered with anger.

“Certainly.  Since you weren’t there, I asked that good lookin’ footman with the Italian eyes if I could see the master of the house.  He was very charming to me.  I mean the master was.   And, he’s quite a treat to look at—your Duke.  Like I said, you’ve done well for yourself.  You always wanted to live like a gentleman, and now you can.  What’s more, he’s one of the wealthiest men in England, your Duke—and nice lookin’.  Good for you, Dr. Halifax.”

“If the Duke of Fallbridge was destitute and ugly, I’d still stay by his side.”

“Sure you would, Robbie.” William winked.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” Robert growled.

“My apologies, Sir.”  William bowed his head.

“Now, you listen to me, Mr. Stover.  I made my position very clear months ago.  I wish to have nothing more to do with you.  It’s nothing personal.  I just don’t think that we have similar values.  So, I’ll thank you to stay away.  I told you all of this before I left for America—many weeks before, and then, again, in a letter.”

“And on the way you found a Duke.”

“He wasn’t a Duke when we met.”

“But, he was a Lord, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.” Robert answered.  “You’re avoiding the truth, Mr. Stover.  Even if I’d never met the Duke of Fallbridge, I’d still not wish to keep company with you.”

“And, why is that?”

“You know very well why.”

“Is it because I come from dirt?”

“Your family has nothing to do with it.  I have nothing against your sister.  Dora, is it?”

“Eudora.  And, you know she’s a slut, Dr. Halifax.  I know you never approved of her though you put on quite a show of being kind to her and her five bastards.  There’s five now, you know.”

“Mr. Stover…”

“Or is it because our pa is in prison?”

“Mr. Stover, the problem is and always was you.  You’re a very intelligent and interesting man, but you…”  Robert shook his head.  “I don’t wish to go into all of this again.  I told you many months ago that I didn’t wish to see you again.  I meant it then and I mean it now.”

“Especially now that you got a fine home, a big staff downstairs and a handsome, wealthy peer to keep you.  Oh, and a child…  You always spoke of wantin’ a child.  Where’d you two get that, huh?  I guess if you got money, anything is possible.  If I’d known you’d wanted a kid, I could have gotten one for you.  I’m sure my sister wouldn’t miss one of her brats.”

Robert frowned.  “Isn’t it enough that I’m happy?  If you care for me as much as you’ve claimed to in the past, surely you can see that I’m happy and, frankly, be glad for it.  I wish you well.  I truly do.  And, I know that there’s happiness out there for you.  You have many opportunities with your business and you’re not an unkind person.  If you simply were to live your own life without trying to bend people into something they’re not, you’d be able to realize how much you already have.”

“Easy for you to say when you’ve gotten all you ever wanted.”

“What do you want of me?”  Robert snapped.

“A kind word.”

“That’s the trouble, William.  If I give you one kind word, it’s never enough.  You always want more.  You’re a bottomless pail.  I refuse to get lost in it.”

“I just wanted to see you once more,” William squinted.

“And, so you have.” Robert sighed.  “Now, I’m telling you.  Do not come to my home again.  Do not contact me again—me, nor the Duke nor anyone in our household.  Don’t even come to Belgrave Square.  There’s nothing for you here.”

“What you mean to say is that the likes of me doesn’t belong in a place like this.”

“You belong anywhere you aspire to be.  Just not with me.  Nor even near me.”  Robert said firmly.  “Now, good evening, Mr. Stover.”

“Good evening, Dr. Halifax.” William muttered.

As Robert walked off, William watched and muttered.  “You had a chance, Robbie, you did.  I gave you a chance.  All I wanted was a kind word.  If only you’d just given me a kind word.”

Charles opened the door before Robert even rang.

“Saw you coming, Sir.” Charles smiled.  “I was just passing by the window.  Are you well?”

“Now that I’m home, I’m quite well.” Robert nodded.

“I couldn’t help but notice that gentleman bothering you, Sir.  You know he came here today and spoke to his Grace? I knew him right off when I spotted him in the square.  He’s been there for about two hours, Sir.”

“I know.” Robert grumbled.  “He will not return.”

“However, should he come back, Sir…”

“Send him away.”  Robert replied plainly.  “Send him away and tell me immediately, please.”

“Yes, Sir.” Charles smiled.

“Now, Charles, I wish to relax.  How is the household?”

“Quite well, Sir.  I was just about to ring the dressing gong.”

“So, I’m just in time.” Robert began to cheer up.

“Yes, Sir.” Charles nodded.  “His Grace is in library with Dog Toby working on his sketches and Master Colin has had his dinner and Miss Ellen is giving him his bath.”

“Excellent.” Robert grinned. “Is that roast that I smell?”

“It is.” Charles smiled.  “With lovely whipped potatoes just the way you like.  And kidney sauce—for you only, Sir, since His Grace doesn’t care for it.”

“Brilliant.”  Robert sighed happily.

“I shall ring the gong, Sir.” Charles replied.

“I just want to pop in to see His Grace before…”

But, before Robert could finish his sentence, from the floor above, Robert heard the jubilant voice of his companion.  “Chum!”  Punch called over the banister.  “You’re home!”

Punch hurried down the stairs.  “I been waitin’ for ya.” He looked around to see that only Charles was listening.  “I been waitin’ hours.  But, now, you’re home, my chum.”

“I am, dear Punch.” Robert smiled as Charles rang the dressing gong.  “I am.”

Did you miss Chapters 1-28?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back on Monday for Chapter 30 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.