Monday, August 13, 2012

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 112



Chapter 112: 
A Note of Discomfort 


Your Grace,” Countess Hamish croaked as she approached the Duke who, still holding their son, stood next to his companion. She made a point of not addressing Robert. “What an interesting speech. One wonders what the Duchess of Fallbridge would have thought.”

“I imagine that my mother would not have been pleased.” Punch smiled slightly, affecting Julian’s shy mannerisms.

“For a variety of reasons, I’m sure.” The countess hissed.

“I think it was a very sweet address, Mummy,” Lady Constance spoke up.

“I’ve no doubt of that,” The countess snarled. “You, I’m sure, would also speak so. You have always had a peculiar fondness for the servants.”

“My thought,” Robert began, “is that the staff should not be treated as mindless automatons. They are human beings just as we are. Perhaps they have not had the same advantages that we’ve enjoyed, and, perhaps they are not as eloquent, however, they are living beings with emotions and dignity. I applaud His Grace’s attitude regarding the servants. The Duke, for as long as I’ve known him, has always endeavored to treat those whom most would consider less fortunate as his equal.”

Despite her initial intention to completely ignore Robert, the Countess Hamish could not relinquish an opportunity to spar with the doctor.

“What advantages have you had, Dr. Halifax?” She grinned.

“My education, to begin with.” Robert answered patiently.

“Yet, you are not of our class.”

“No.” Robert shook his head. “I was not born to wealth. Quite the opposite.”

“Mummy,” Lady Constance warned as the Countess opened her mouth.

“This is not a vulgar discussion of wealth, Dr. Halifax. This is a discussion of station.”

“Nor was a born to a ducal coronet as was His Grace.” Robert smiled politely. “Yet, His Grace has accepted me as his equal, and, for that, I am most grateful.”

“I suspect that you are.” The Countess hissed.

“And, we’re glad that you’re among us, Dr. Halifax.” Lady Constance said quickly. “Your reputation in London…as a physician…is quite sterling. You’re, I’m sure a credit to the House of Fallbridge.”

“I wonder if the Duchess of Fallbridge would have agreed.” The Countess smirked.

“I assure you, Countess, that the Duchess of Fallbridge did not approve of me at all.” Robert nodded. “She was most emphatic in her disapproval when we met in America.”

“I’ve no doubt.” The Countess sighed.

“Tragic how she died.” Lady Constance said awkwardly.

“Yes, isn’t it?” The Countess continued. “And, yet, in your toast, Your Grace, you made such a point to mention Sir Colin Molliner—hardly of the rank of the Duchess of Fallbridge—but you did not mention your late, lamented mother.”

“As this is my father’s ancestral home,” Mr. Punch said, still managing to maintain his impersonation of Julian despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to strike the woman across the head with any available heavy object, “I found it most appropriate to honor him, especially since this event is a continuation of his legacy.”

“What of your mother’s legacy?” The Countess asked.

“I thought it best to leave a discussion of that for another time.” Punch replied plainly.

“What a handsome baby.” Lady Constance interrupted, her discomfort apparent. She wanted desperately to change the subject.

Punch’s growing irritation faded as he glanced down at the child in his arms. “Yes, thank you. He’s a fine boy. We’re most proud of him.”

“He looks quite a lot like you.” The Countess said curtly.

“Isn’t it fortunate?” Robert smiled. “To think that his foundling should grow to resemble his benefactor is remarkable indeed.”

“Yes.” Mr. Punch said softly.

“Only fitting since he will inherit the Duke’s estate and title one day.” The Countess clucked her tongue.

“We…” Punch began, his voice cracked slightly—his own natural way of speaking momentarily creeping in, “we love ‘im.” He cleared his throat. “The doctor and I have found our Colin to be such a delight. He’s quite intelligent. Look how he’s observing everything around him with such wonder and curiosity.”

“Such a darling.” Lady Constance nodded.

“He has something of the same wide-eyed stare which I have recently noted in you, Your Grace.” The Countess added snidely.

“What are you?” Punch snapped. He paused again. “Your dress?” He covered, for the sake of politeness. “Tell me of your costume. It’s delightfully old-fashioned. I’ve not seen a dress like that in ages, Countess. What character are you?”

“I am no character. This is not fancy dress. This is my own gown.”

“Ah,” Mr. Punch blushed.

Robert bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing.

“Mummy does not care for fancy dress.” Lady Constance said, a hint of amusement dancing in her voice. “I had toyed with the idea of it, but Mummy insisted that we should not. I see that Your Grace and Dr. Halifax have not donned costume either.”

“No,” Robert shook his head. “We concluded that this was the servants’ night and, so, we did not wish to detract from them.”

“Of course you didn’t.” The Countess grumbled.

“Everyone seems to be having a very good time,” Lady Constance said with a note of discomfort.

“I’m glad of that.” Mr. Punch nodded, regaining his composure. “I trust you’re enjoying your stay in Aberdeenshire? You’re staying with the Baron and Baroness Lensdown, yes?”

“Yes.” Countess Hamish replied dismissively. “Gertrude insisted that we come tonight.”

“I’m so glad that she did.” Mr. Punch forced a smile. “Have you had a chance to spy the construction at Balmoral? I’m sure His Majesty will grace the landscape with a beautiful new castle.”

“I find Prince Albert’s tastes entirely too German.” The countess scowled.

“Ah.” Mr. Punch nodded. “Still, I’m sure it will be lovely. I was granted a chance to see the plans when last at court, and I must say that they’ve done a remarkable job of parroting the look of the old castle while making it thoroughly modern.”

The countess shrugged.

“You really should take a stroll toward Balmoral if you can.” Mr. Punch said hesitantly.

“You’ll find the air here quite bracing.” Robert added.

“I don’t care for walking.” The countess snorted.

“Well, I trust you’ll find endless amusement with the Baron and Baroness. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Dr. Halifax and I must receive our other guests.”

“Of course,” Lady Constance bowed her head.

The Countess Hamish sniffed derisively.

As Robert and Punch walked off, Mr. Punch looked down at Colin and whispered. “Don’t listen to what I’m ‘bout to say, Colin.” He glanced at Robert and mouthed the word. “Bitch.”

“That’s not what I would call her, dear Punch.”

“No?” Punch asked, wide-eyed.

“No.” Robert shook his head. “Nothing so kind.”

“What would you call her?” Punch grinned.

“I’ll show you the word in my book of anatomy later.” Robert winked.

“Oh!” Punch giggled. “I look forward to it.”

Meanwhile, the countess grabbed her daughter by her arm, gripping the girl’s flesh in her bony fingers. She dragged the woman to a obscured crook in the grand staircase.

“Mummy,” Lady Constance whispered. “You’re hurting me.”

“How dare you make me look a fool in front of that doctor person.” The Countess growled.

“They were kind enough to invite us.” Lady Constance retorted. “And you were being insufferable.”

“We’re not here to be their friends, Constance.” Countess Hamish snapped. “Or have you forgotten?”

“I’ve not.” Constance pulled her arm away from her mother’s clasp. “How could I? You remind me of our intentions often enough.”

“And, yet, you do nothing.”

“I’d do more if you’d let me.” Constance replied.

“Is that it?” The Countess rasped. “Well, then. Don’t let me stop you. Go find your lover and do his bidding so that we may repay our debt and be out from under his thumb.”

“We’d not be under his thumb, Mother, were it not for you.”

“I’m not the one who became entangled with a married man.”

“This married man, Mummy. This one.”

“I never found myself in this position, Constance.”

“It’s, perhaps, the only position you’ve not been in.”

The countess’ face fell and her eyes turned to ice. “Were we not in this room, in this house, I would…”

“I know exactly what you’d do.”

“Lensdown is expecting you.” The Countess barked. “Go to him. Now.”

“I shall.” Lady Constance responded. “Meanwhile, you should try not to drink all of the Duke’s wine. At least not tonight.”

“Is that how you’re going to treat me?”

“You force me to do it, Mother.”

“Daughter, you have no idea what I can force you to do.” The countess frothed. She looked over her shoulder. “The Duke—this madman whom you hold in such high esteem—look at him with his male lover and his little ward. He seems to have a penchant for foundlings. I’m sure he’d love to have a daughter, too, a little sister for his father’s namesake. The doctor isn’t going to give him a child. Do you know where the Duke could get a little girl to be a sister to his beloved Colin?”

“Don’t tease me.” Constance warned.

“I’m not teasing.” The countess’ eyes flashed with hatred. “Now, go do your duty. If I see no progress, I shall see to it that Fern finds her way to this household which you seem to find so charming.”




Did you miss Chapters 1-111 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square?  If so, you can read them here.  Come back tomorrow for Chapter 113.

4 comments:

Marsha said...

Oh no! More trouble from the stupid baron.

Joseph Crisalli said...

You have no idea yet.

Dashwood said...

I wonder if you were to throw water on the Countess whether she would melt down to her out of style hat.

Joseph Crisalli said...

I suspect she might, Dashwood.