Thursday, July 19, 2012

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 91




Chapter 91: 
Rolling Hills



Baron,” Robert extended his hand.

“So, you’re the oft-discussed Dr. Halifax?” The Baron Lensdown answered—his face devoid of any expression either favorable or otherwise. He shook Robert’s hand.

“I am.” Robert nodded.

“You’ve been the talk of Mayfair.” The baron continued.

“Due to my involvement with the birth of Prince Leopold?” Robert responded.

“Among other reasons.” Lensdown replied. He looked to Mr. Punch. “Are you enjoying your holiday, Fallbridge?”

“Very much so, thank you.” Punch responded, imitating Julian.

“I hear you were quite ill when you departed.”

“I was.” Mr. Punch answered. “However, I’m very well now.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Lensdown nodded. However, he didn’t look very glad. He didn’t look as if he felt much of anything. “I do hope you’ll pardon the unannounced visit, Fallbridge. You see, I was walking and happened upon your estate. I hadn’t anticipated actually seeing you. After all, you’re not known for your love of the outdoors. I didn’t think you’d mind if I trespassed on your land. I’ve not been on this estate for nearly three decades. You may not remember this, Fallbridge, but I attended several garden parties here in my youth.”

“I recall.” Mr. Punch replied.

“Do you?” The Baron Lensdown sniffed. “You were always so remote—even as a boy. I could never be sure if you actually noticed anyone who was in attendance.”

“I am prone to notice more than is obvious.” Mr. Punch smiled.

“How long have you been in Aberdeenshire, Sir?” Robert asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I only just arrived, really.”

“Is the baroness with you?”

“Yes.” The baron replied, for once his face registered an emotion—a fleeting, slight frown.

“How long will you be staying?” Punch asked.

“Until Gertrude grows weary of the place.” Lensdown answered. He paused. “I understand you’ve employed my former governess--Miss Barrett.”

“We have.” Mr. Punch nodded.

The three men stood in awkward silence for several minutes.

“Why is the child out here with you, then?” Lensdown finally asked.

“We enjoy spending time with our son.” Mr. Punch grinned.

“Your son?” Lensdown squinted. “I don’t understand. Both of you?”

“Well, yes.” Punch replied firmly.

“As I understand it, Fallbridge, he’s not even really your son, let alone the doctor’s.”

“His parentage doesn’t matter to us, Baron.” Robert replied. “He’s as much the Duke’s son as he is anyone’s.”

“And apparently yours, too.” The baron deadpanned.

“Why not?” Robert demanded.

“I mean no offense, Doctor.” Lensdown said quickly. “Honestly. I’ve always had a tendency to speak without thinking. Forgive me.”

Mr. Punch nodded. “Of course. Say no more of it.”

“My initial inquiry was actually to decipher whether or not Miss Barrett was a suitable governess for the child. Since she is not here with him, I assume that she is not satisfactory.”

“She is ill,” Mr. Punch explained. “Our parlor maid…”

“The pretty African?”

“Yes.” Mr. Punch squinted. “Gamilla. Gamilla’s taken up Miss Barrett’s duties while she recovers. However, since Dr. Halifax and I both enjoy our time with our son, we decided he should join us while we took some air this afternoon.”

“Is it serious—Miss Barrett’s illness?”

“Not terribly.” Robert answered plainly.

“She was ill once when she was in our employ.” Lensdown began. “However, the reasons for that were…” He paused again. “You see? There I go again.” He cleared his throat. “Your Grace, I don’t mean to detain you from your comfortable scene. I shall carry on.”

“Baron?” Punch interrupted. “We are hosting the Servants’ Ball this weekend. Just as my father did. Since it’s tradition to invite the families from the nearby estates, please know that you will be receiving an invitation within the day.”

“We shall be delighted to attend.” The baron nodded. Still, he showed no true emotion—his face almost mask-like. “Thank you.”

“Good day, Baron.” Robert said quickly.

“Good day to you,” Lensdown replied. He took a deep breath and walked briskly away.

Robert gently knelt on the blanket and lowered Colin to a comfortable spot before sitting down himself. Mr. Punch joined them, absent-mindedly stroking Dog Toby’s fur.

“How is it possible,” Robert began, “that a man can be simultaneously bland and offensive?”

“Dunno.” Punch shrugged, happy to be speaking in his own manner again.

“You knew him when you were boys?”

Mr. Punch shook his head.

“Or, rather, Julian knew him?” Robert corrected himself.

“It’s odd.” Punch sighed. “I’m sure Julian and he were known to one another. After all, the two estates are so close, we must have. But, I don’t remember it ‘xactly. I knew who he was, but, don’t know how.”

“That’s rather strange since you seem to remember everything which Julian ever said or did.” Robert said softly.

“Maybe he were ‘round more before I developed in Julian.” Mr. Punch shrugged.

“Unpleasant chap.” Robert shook his head.

“Sure is.” Punch chuckled. “Imagine? Miss Barrett and him…”

“I’d rather not.” Robert smiled.

“Sorry I had to invite him to the ball.” Punch muttered.

“I understand why you did. If you hadn’t, it would have meant considerable offense. We won’t worry about it. There’s no reason to spend much time with him at all. We’ve many others who will be in attendance whose company we actually enjoy.”

Punch nodded.

“Let’s not allow it to spoil our day.” Robert continued.

“Nah.” Punch shook his head. “Ain’t to reason to.”

Robert picked up Colin and cradled him—looking again to the sky—as Mr. Punch returned to his drawing. Or, at least he tried…

Instead, he gazed out into the distance. For a moment, he thought he saw the Baron walking toward the old hunting cottage. Had he gone in? No. He couldn’t have. The cottage was locked.

Punch squinted again. He saw nothing ahead except the pines and the rolling hills.

Shrugging, he returned to his work as another chill tickled his spine.



Did you miss Chapters 1-90? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 92 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.
 

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