Mistress Agnes Page 14

  comforted me and told me it was not my fault or my responsibility, but still I felt miserable. I'm glad you have finally acknowledged this, mistress, for I had started to love you less, and resent you ever more. And that hurt me, for we used to be so close.'

  'Oh Patrick, why didn't you ever tell me? I felt you were different towards me, but hatred... I owe you two everything, I would never have ignored you or sent you away, I love you, both of you.

  I will never demand physical loving from you again, I knew you didn't really like it, but I needed it, I needed your love, and your attention.'

  'That is not quite true, Mrs Beauchamp,' Guy now objected.

  'I most certainly do not dislike pleasing you, I enjoy making you shudder and help you find release. You never forced us into anything, and you've taken great care of us and allowed us to be who we are. If we had shown our true affiliation at your aunt's, we would have been cast out and fired without any chance of ever finding another position. We bloom here with you, and except for this one transgression, you have always been more than fair to the people depending on you. Besides, you've cured Dennis of his wheezing, and his nightmares. He is truly happy now, and he has never reproached you with anything, though we have talked to him about it, to help him process his experiences. They would have become a whole set of new nightmares, you know, if we hadn't forced him to talk about it. We knew it was still too fresh for the two of you.'

  That was so sweet of them, and she just had to cuddle both of them. They hugged her back sincerely, no reticence, things would be all right again from now on, no distrust or resentment between them.

  They talked for another half hour, then promised they'd be open to each other, and Agnes asked her boys to be less deferential to her, if they could.

  'Impossible, Mrs Beauchamp,' Guy replied, 'I've been a servant all my working life, I think if I were able to love a woman and were to get married, I'd call my wife Mrs. I have to work hard to address Dennis by his first name, he's starting to become so gentleman-like, I have real trouble to stay familiar with him.'

  Agnes laughed merrily, she was so proud of Dennis, but she said cheekily,

  'Ask him to talk to you like he did on the streets. Your ears'll blister, and you will call him Dennis, or bro, for weeks, no trouble at all.'

  Patrick now loosened up considerably, the very thought of calling the mistress by her first name had shocked him terribly.

  'He did that to me once, when I accidentally said 'sir' to him. He replied to my question in the most awful brogue, every third word a curse or foulness, though it might have been every second word, I didn't understand half the gibberish he spoke. He translated it for me roughly, then laughed at me.

  'Still about to start bowing and scraping to me, Patrick?'

  He looked so cheeky, I just couldn't help it, I had to laugh with him, though I felt rather foolish, and quite shocked to hear him say such indecent things. I don't think he would have done them to me, either, just for calling him 'sir'.

  Regrettably. Still, I haven't had any trouble calling him Dennis ever since.'

  They parted in excellent spirits, and now they were very cosy in Agnes'

  carriage together, Patrick and Guy in livery and looking stunning in it, Dennis in a handsome travelling suit with only a tiny bit too much flair.

  His hair was just below ear-level and curly, a shade darker than usual. He had grown a moustache, now groomed to perfection, and he wore a hat and a pocket watch. Agnes was eyeing him hungrily, he was so handsome and so young, and they were so much in love.

  She suspected Dennis of being a bit apprehensive, they were going to take the train to London and of course railway stations were very public places, not a place a deserter would gladly go. But he looked so different, and it had been such a long time already, no-one would be looking for him anymore, they'd have registered him lost on the moors after few weeks.

  After two hours they had reached the railway station and Dennis found himself gaping at its size and building style, he had never seen so much iron and glass in one place. Despite having grown up in London he had never seen the riches and innovations of their age, he had lived in a rundown neighbourhood and made regular forays into richer quarters to break into houses and shops, but he had had no business in a railway station and had never visited one.

  The crowd did not upset him, he had expected to feel oppressed by other people after the silence of the moors, but in fact he relished being anonymous once more, disappearing into the masses, just one face among many. Slowly, his fear of being caught faded, how would he ever be found among so many people? And this was a local town, a large one, but nowhere near the size of London, where they were going.

  As his apprehension faded his mood improved, and soon he was exuberant, looking about him in constant amazement, thriving on the bustle and the

  noise. Agnes, who clearly did feel oppressed by the noise and the crowds, was happy to take his arm and let him lead her where her servants were going, Guy having arranged everything and keeping a clear head under any circumstance, knowing exactly where to go to catch their train.

  Guy's timing was perfect, a porter took their luggage and wheeled it to a freight car down the line of train carriages, and an older man in a uniform led them to their private compartment. Patrick and Guy would accompany them there, Agnes was not going to be separated from them, she had always travelled just with the two of them, and she'd liked their company and had felt safer with them. She knew better than to put them in second class now, Dennis would not accept that, and she'd have their first fight on her hands.

  Pretty soon the train set off, much faster than a horse could run, and Dennis showed his youth and inexperience clearly. He was so sweet, examining everything, exploring the carriages ahead and behind them, gazing out of the window at the landscape flying by.

  They had lunch in the dining carriage, and Dennis was hungry, but he was used to much better fare at home, she had spoiled all of them with her venison and her superb cook. She hadn't know what a treasure that man was, though, she had chosen him because he was local and very reticent. She guessed he wouldn't talk even if he saw her fucking the stable boy in the hallway. Which was actually true, he had never breathed a word of what he saw, though people still found plenty to talk about without his specific observations.

  When they came back to their own compartment the journey was nearly over, wilderness and farmland made way to cities, houses made way to factories, and soon they had arrived in the largest hall ever. They got out, Guy in front once more, fetched their luggage, and crossed the station to the furthest exit.

  They had to wait right there for half an hour for her editor to pick them up, in which Agnes felt very uncomfortable because this part of town was rather rundown. Dennis acquired an air he'd never had before, menacing even with his dandyish clothing and hairdo. He became a predator of sorts, he seemed to stand taller and his watchful eyes scanned their surroundings constantly.

  When Agnes touched him he started, and looked down on her with a sudden slight smile.

  'I'm sorry love, old habits die hard after all. Still keeping an eye on everything and anything when in a neighbourhood like this. Will you let me do my thing? I'd be distracted anyway, and I suppose there is some excuse for

  vigilance. I'll relax once we're safe and sound in your editor's carriage.'

  She loved him so much already, and now she admired him as well, sure he missed nothing, feeling much safer as a result.

  Nothing happened, and soon they heard hooves on the cobbled street, a carriage approaching. It stopped, and a wizened old lady jumped out sprightly, she looked like a granny with glasses and a grey bun, but Agnes had rarely met a sharper mind than Milly's.

  'Agnes!' her editor called out, and flung herself in her arms.

  Before Patrick and Guy could start loading the luggage onto the carriage she called out to them, 'Boys, so good to see you. Never mind the luggage, my man can handle that. Come here!'


  And she hugged both Patrick and Guy with sincere affection.

  She then hesitated a bit, Dennis was still in his street-wise mode and he looked positively feral. They had decided to keep his first name as it was, no-one even knew a man's first name in the army anyway.

  'Milly, may I introduce you to Dennis Parker, my fiancée? Dennis, this is Milly Gilbert, my editor.'

  Dennis shook hands absently, and Milly caught Agnes' eye to look her question.

  'Never mind, Milly, you'll see the real Dennis later. He's protective of me, and not entirely without reason. Why did you want to meet up here, and not in the front?'

  'We'd get stuck amidst the cabs and those drivers can be very obnoxious.

  Sean refuses to drive out front, I don't have the heart to force him anymore, he's getting on a bit though he refuses to acknowledge that.'

  In fact, Patrick and Guy had loaded the luggage after all, and left Sean the driver tending to the horses. Dennis was still alert, which cost him dearly, but saved the rest of them their dignity at least, and possibly their lives.

  For three thuggish looking chaps came at them, carrying clubs, seemingly relaxed, but of course out for trouble or they wouldn't have been armed.

  'Patrick, get the mistress and Mrs Gilbert into the carriage. Quickly. Guy, stay alert, help me out if needed.'

  As Agnes cursed the fact that she hadn't a gun or any other weapon on her, Patrick obeyed Dennis and urged the women into the carriage, not joining them but standing next to Guy, prepared to fight for what he was worth, which was more than one would expect since he was as much a city boy as Guy, not a former gang member like Dennis, but still quick-witted and used

  to fighting himself out of scrapes.

  As the thugs advanced, Dennis did not wait for them to hit him first, but attacked the largest one viciously, nothing honourable about his fighting, it was aggressive and vile. He kneed the large man in the balls before that one had the time to even register Dennis' movement, and chopped his throat nearly at the same time. The man dropped like a felled tree, and Dennis made sure of him ruthlessly by taking his club and hitting him once, not exactly hard, but very accurately. In the meantime, the others had closed in faster than Guy and Patrick could react, and one got a hit on Dennis' back that sent the latter reeling. The man was obviously afraid of him, for when Dennis turned around, seemingly all right, the low-life stepped back to keep the club between the two of them. Dennis' blood was up now and he went for this man, too, ignoring the other totally, and to his detriment.

  For as the second man went down beneath Dennis' vicious assault, the club he'd taken from the first man striking this one's knees once, on the left, and a second time, on the right, the third man saw his chance and with Patrick and Guy closing in on him, managed to hit the back of Dennis' head in a blind rage. Dennis crumpled onto the cobbles, as his two friends overpowered the third attacker.

  While Patrick and Guy were wrestling with a strong, armed opponent, the second man, while unable to stand, still tried to take his revenge on his now helpless attacker, picking up the club Dennis had dropped and lifting it to make sure of him.

  Agnes broke from the carriage to save her beloved's life, aware she would not make it in time but unable to refrain from trying to save him. As she ran towards him, a strange whistle broke the silence and the raised club fell to the ground with a clatter. The boys now had their man down, but they couldn't let go of him to help Agnes. Dennis did not get up, and Agnes watched both the limping thug and her still beloved alternately, with fear in her heart. That blow had been so hard, what if Dennis was killed, or in a coma? What if that man tried again? Without weapon she could not stop him so she made for one of the clubs lying on the ground.

  But it was not needed, and now they found out what the whistle had been for it rang out once again, the man who was threatening Dennis crying out in pain and clutching his face, where a livid elongated mark was starting to bleed profusely. The old coachman approached and threatened the thugs with

  his thin voice.

  'Off with you, young scum, and don't forget to take your friend. I can kill an ox with this whip and I won't hesitate to make an end to the both of you. Beat it!'

  The whip started whistling again, and Patrick and Guy let their man go so he could help the others flee. One was lying as still as Dennis, and they dragged him along, the second man limping badly, face still streaming blood.

  Guy now bent over Dennis, he was always the one who kept his cool and did what had to be done. Feeling Dennis' pulse quickly he concluded, 'He's still alive, but unconscious. He needs a doctor. Mrs Gilbert, will you take us to one?'

  'We'll take your friend to your house and let the doctor see him there. He's my cousin, and very capable. We'll pick him up on the go. Sean, to my cousin's place.'

  Chapter 11

  Patrick and Guy carefully lifted Dennis into the carriage, Agnes following behind, stunned with fear and shock. Milly supported her, and as soon as the door was closed, Sean sped off as fast as was safe on these cobbles. They stopped once after ten minutes, and a man in his sixties got in after a short stop. The carriage started to move again.

  Dennis was still unresponsive, and the old man felt his pulse, then opened his eyelids carefully. He put a bag on his lap, got out a little bottle, unstoppered it and kept it under Dennis' nose, who coughed once and opened his eyes. They did not focus well, and the doctor quickly unfolded a brown paper bag from his leather doctor's bag, holding it before Dennis. Seconds later, Dennis retched neatly into the bag, and when he was done, the doctor got a large grey handkerchief from his waistcoat with which he wiped his patient's mouth.

  The bag he carefully folded shut and put under the carriage seat.

  Then he looked at Dennis once again and asked, 'Do you know where you are, young man?'

  Poor Dennis looked at him in total confusion, then said humbly, 'I'm sorry sir, but no. I've never seen you before, I cannot remember anything else either.

  My head hurts, and I'm still nauseous. Will you send me back out? Or may I stay in the infirmary until I can stand again?'

  As Agnes' throat suddenly developed a big lump inside, the doctor gestured her to come closer, and he asked, 'Do you recognize this lady?'

  A look of recognition flashed over Dennis' pale face, and as his hand went to his throat instinctively he said as humbly, 'Yes, she's my mistress. At least I won't have to fight today, I'm glad, for I don't feel so good.'

  His eyes rolled, and Agnes wanted to be sick too, but her beloved needed her, and if that meant reliving a time in their past she'd rather forget, so be it. She controlled her reaction and kneeled beside him. The doctor gestured she could take his place and she did, taking Dennis in her arms lovingly. She asked the doctor, 'Will he be all right?'

  'Your fiancée has a severe concussion, Mrs Beauchamp, I take it he is

  reliving scenes from the past. That is a sign he has brain damage, the severity of which only time will reveal. It is not uncommon to completely recover from such an injury, but it can also cause dramatic changes in personality.

  You will need to give him a lot of care, keep him from sleeping too deeply the first nights, then when the danger of slipping into a coma is past, you need to gently remind him who he is by helping him sort the things he does remember, and stirring up new remembrances by creating circumstances that might.

  But first I want to examine his skull to see if it isn't broken, and then you need to nurse him through the night. You may indulge in your feelings, Mrs Beauchamp, it will only help to stir his memories, if his brain is not too badly damaged.'

  This doctor was not a very comforting person to be around, but he did sound knowledgeable, and Agnes gave in to her strongest urge and cried. At first she cried silently, big tears rolling over her face, but when she stroked her beloved's face she suddenly imagined it cold and still, as Frederick's had been. Then something inside her broke,and she let her fear and shock out in shuddering sobs.

  Denni
s was obviously still conscious, for his eyes opened and he whispered,

  'Don't cry, my love, I won't leave you.'

  She knew he was probably referring to the first time he had seen her cry like this, the day after she had let the boys set him free, but still it felt like a promise, he was promising her he wouldn't die, would stay with her. She tried to stop crying not to upset him but it was hard, for soon after speaking he sighed and closed his eyes, and he looked close to death.

  Once they got to her house, Patrick and Guy lifted him together and took him to her room, her town staff looking surprised and concerned at their sudden arrival in such a depressed mode.

  'I'll handle them,' Guy whispered to her, 'as soon as we've got Dennis in your bed.'

  But Milly wasn't useless either, she remained in the hall and talked to the staff in a low voice, telling the tale of the mistress' fiancée beating off two thugs unarmed, then falling to the third.

  Within minutes, Agnes sat on the bed next to Dennis, holding him on his side, as the doctor probed his skull carefully to check it for breaks. It hurt terribly, and Dennis cried out and begged for mercy, in such a humble voice once more, it just broke her heart.

  'No mistress, please don't let him punish me, I'll be good, I'll do whatever pleases you!'

  It was heartrending, and very shameful to Agnes, the doctor would soon know what she had done to this man, but she didn't manage to care very much, she wanted her beloved safe and without pain.

  'It hurts so badly, please don't do that!'

  To make matters worse he started to wheeze, gasping for breath, still crying out, begging again, not to be whipped, not to be sent into battle again, not to be forced to kill, ever again. Agnes felt herself starting to cry again, on top of her fear for Dennis' life this raked up so much old pain, so much shame, and self-loathing.

  The doctor was done and he touched her lightly to make clear she could let her beloved lie on his back once more, stroking him instead of restraining him.