Friday, May 30, 2014

A Recipe for Punch, Chapter 115




Chapter 115
Worries



"Oh, Your Lordship, there you are."  Gamilla panted.  


Robert was just climbing the wide, cascading staircase.  

When he spied Gamilla, he hurried up the rest of the way to the landing.

"Gamilla, what are you doing out of bed?"  Robert frowned.  "I told you to remain in bed for the rest of the day.  Gerard is going to be beside himself when he finds that you've left your room."

"I had to see to Miss Lennie."  Gamilla confessed.  "And, I'm glad I did."

"Is she worse?  Has she lost consciousness again?"  Robert asked, alarmed.

"No, she's still awake, but she ain't in a good mind."

"How do you mean?"  Robert raised an eyebrow.

"She's talkin' nonsense, Sir.  Goin' on about how all that's happened is her fault and sayin' how she's a wicked woman because she takes after her parents."  Gamilla answered.

Robert sighed.  "Of course you told her that none of this is her doing?"

"I did."

"As for the other worry, I'm afraid that it's something which preys upon Her Ladyship's thoughts all the time.  I suppose it rather preys upon many of us--that thought that we're doomed to repeat the sins of our forebears.  I know I give it much thought.  My father was a gambler who cared more for the thrill of his games than he did for us, and, my mother...well, you know what became of her."  He pressed his hands together as he thought.  "His Grace has similar worries.  I imagine that all we can do is continue to reassure one another that such concerns are irrational.  We are each our own individual spirit.  I've had this conversation with Lennie many a time before."

"Perhaps, Sir, you can have it again."  Gamilla said softly.  "I've known Miss Lennie to have these moments when she done let herself fall into sadness with such thoughts.  But, I never seen her so lost to it before.  She even spoke of Orpha Polk.  Seems she's goin' through each memory of everything she's ever done or said in her life and makin' herself suffer for what she thinks are her mistakes."

"I'll speak with her.  I was about to fetch my boots so I might go out looking for His Grace, Charles and Lord Cleaversworth.  I'm terribly concerned that they've not returned and I'm..."  He paused.  

"I understand, Sir.  You also gotta be worried they've fallen into danger, and that Miss Morgana may be worse off than...than she was before.  Not to mention poor Mr. Perkins who's still lost."

Robert nodded.  "Perhaps you could find Gerard and have him get my boots and such at the ready."

"I will."  Gamilla nodded. 

"Then, back to bed with you."  Robert said firmly.

"Lord Colinshire, I'm not feelin' poorly no more.  Besides, Master Colin needs me.  Poor Ethel's been at my post for..."

"No."  Robert interrupted.  "If Ethel needs assistance, Violet can help her for the remainder of the day, or,  we can even pull Maudie from her post.  I want you to rest.  If you don't do it for your own good, consider the child inside of you."

"Yes, Sir."  Gamilla nodded.  "Just after I find my husband."

"Thank you.  And...thank you for letting me know about Her Ladyship.  I'll go to her anon."

Gamilla smiled with relief before hurrying off to find Gerard who was, no doubt, already in the chambers shared by His Grace and His Lordship.

Robert wound his way through the echoing corridors to Lennie's suite.  As he opened opened the door, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his thorax--a queasiness which told him that something was terribly wrong.

Upon entering the room, he knew at once that the feeling was accurate.

Gazing in panic at the pool of blood which had spread out across the floor near Lennie's bed, he gasped.  "Lennie, what have you done!"


Did you miss Chapters 1-114 of A Recipe for Punch?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back on Monday for Chapter 116.






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