Mistress Agnes Read online

  He would never know, but he was certain his ordeal in this attic would find a place among his other bad memories, his mother's death, the day he had landed in the streets as a boy, the atrocities he had witnessed and committed in the war. They were all in the past, they had formed his character but they would not rule his life anymore. And for another half hour silence reigned in the attic, Agnes didn't say anything, and Dennis' feelings were still too strong to put them into words.

  Finally, felt he had most of them sorted, and his stomach was starting to complain.

  'Shall we dress and get some breakfast?'

  A kiss was his reply.

  He released his beloved, jumped out of the bed quickly and offered her his hand, to pull her upright. She took it, of course, and he pulled her in his arms for a last embrace, after which they made their way to the stairs. Once upon it, Agnes spoke for the first time in at least an hour, well, excepting a few cries in the heat of their lovemaking.

  'I thought we'd have it cleared and painted, then use it as an attic from now on. To store things, you know. Unless you want to keep it as it is.'

  'In time we will do that, Agnes. But I think we need to visit it a few more times before we are ready. Too much pain still lies between you and me in that room, if we destroy it now, we lose the chance to work that out.'

  Not his pain, hers. Her voice was thick with it, she had not come to terms with her role in all this by far. Next time, he'd be strong, and they'd address her guilt. She bowed her head and laid it against his chest, obviously upset, of course that might be the pregnancy, Dennis had heard it made women emotional and easy to discompose.

  'You were right, my love, I needed to face my fear of the past by going there.

  I feel much better now, but you seem affected, too. Let's go back there for a few days, and when you can look me in the eyes while sitting in that bed we'll turn it back into a regular attic. Tear the hearth out, burn the bed, sell the chain and collar to the smith across the river. Or do you want to keep it as a memento?'

  Her expression of horror was worth millions, and he laughed out loud and lifted her right there on the stairs and carried her down those steep flights, right back to their bedroom.

  'Thank you, Agnes. It was very hard to go back there, but it worked miracles.

  For me. I can see it caused you much grief, I'll have to cuddle you a lot to make up for that. But believe me, love, it's my turn now to help you, and I will.'

  She could see his excellent humour was real and it did hearten her, though she seemed a little overcome as well. They helped each other dress, and Dennis kissed her intensely after every piece of clothing.

  'Can we sit in the kitchen with the others? We're late, so there's probably just the happy new couple feeding each other tidbits. Please?'

  She nodded.

  'Will you please talk to me, beloved? Say, 'Oh, all right Dennis, if you want it so badly I'll eat my oatmeal in the kitchen with the servants, but just this once.'

  Instead, she fell into his arms, crying once more.

  'I'm sorry, Dennis, I never thought it would hit me so hard. It was so awful seeing the chain again. And it was so dark in there, what did I do to you?

  Why?'

  It was the pregnancy no doubt. Agnes would never show such weakness.

  'Don't think about it, my love. Suppose it hadn't happened? Then we wouldn't have each other. I'd have suffered a lot more for you, my dear. Come, let's have breakfast and go riding, I feel fine, my head's better, I can't wait to see the moors in summer.'

  That, and his loving embrace, settled her, and they went to the kitchen together.

  But he was mistaken in thinking the kitchen would be quiet, for besides Dick and Maria, who were on a week's holiday from work, Patrick and Guy were also present, each with a cup of coffee and one of Cook's superior cookies.

  Dick was beaming, Maria looked shy, and Patrick and Guy seemed intent on confronting the poor woman with their involvement right away, sitting together intimately, obviously very much in love. But Patrick was as sharp as ever.

  'Something happened. You look different, Dennis! Oh, I'm sorry, mistress, good morning, so pleased to see you in our little hideout.'

  'My pleasure, Patrick, I thought I'd welcome the new bride to our household.

  Did the new bed sleep well, Maria? We had it stuffed extra firmly because Dick is so large, but I can imagine it was a bit hard for you.'

  Maria was shy towards Agnes, of course, and she didn't seem at all put out by the picture of two handsome men holding hands.

  'Thank you, Mrs Beauchamp, it was just perfect. I slept like a baby, it was so good to be together, our rooms are so beautiful, Mrs Beauchamp, thank you so much for spending so much attention on us.'

  Oh well, it was to be expected from a village girl, she'd get used to their household, her awe of Agnes would soon take the right direction. Of course Agnes was the mistress of this house, but she was not very much stuck on formality.

  'Do you still want to eat this as it is? Not even a tiny bit of sugar, Mrs Beauchamp?'

  Cook handed Agnes her bowl of porridge and she replied cheerfully, 'No thank you, Cook, I don't dare take the risk, my stomach still feels queasy, that

  cheese over there smells funny to me even from this distance, the morning sickness is not gone, not yet. I kind of like porridge, Cook, strange as it may seem to you.'

  The poor man didn't answer, but his opinion could clearly be read from his plain face, to him food was not really edible if it wasn't seasoned.

  'Do you need fresh meat for the pot, Cook? Dennis and I are going out today, I can take a gun with me.'

  'Yes, please, ma'am, the party cleared out the larder, just a few fowl, maybe?

  I can roast those with a pinch of salt and pepper, that may be something you can eat. Lean and light. And for the rest of us I have a whole new recipe I got yesterday from one of your guests.'

  Dick was obviously eager to taste anything Cook had to offer, though the large man always ate well he didn't have the chance to grow fat with his physically intensive job. Washing and cleaning were demanding tasks, as was clearing out the privies. A large house like theirs used a lot of fuel to heat, which Dick hauled by himself. And he often helped John with labour-intensive jobs like storing up fodder and straw for bedding. Cook had him carrying heavy loads as well, and butchering large carcasses, but lately he had also been teaching Dick the finer work.

  But this week Dick did not have to work at all, the daily tasks were spread among the other servants, even Dennis had offered to help out, and the larger tasks could wait a week, they were stocked up on everything but perishables, and fires were no longer necessary outside the kitchen.

  With the talk around them switching to food, Maria proved that her shyness was restricted towards Agnes, and maybe himself, for their new housemate tactfully addressed Cook.

  'Please, Cook, I'd love to taste all your recipes, but as you can see I'm not the type of woman who can eat all she likes. I have to be a little reticent with the cream and the sugar, and if you are cooking separately for Mrs Beauchamp anyway, could you add me to her menu? If I eat all your lovely dainties I'll be twice this size after just one season.'

  Cook showed he wasn't insulted by smiling ingratiatingly at Maria, after which he replied, 'Sure, do you want to have porridge with nothing for breakfast, too? Or do you prefer a normal breakfast, minus the pies?'

  'A slice of toast, like today, would be just fine. Though I love porridge, a bit too much, actually. Oh well, maybe walking to work in the village and back home will allow me to as least taste your fabulous cooking without gaining

  too much weight.'

  Maria felt like a heroine, daring to ask Cook to not start feeding her up, but she had to. At home they all ate what her mother cooked and since she had the same build as Maria, she never tempted herself or her daughter to stuff themselves with greasy and creamy food. It hadn't done her father any harm either, he was as slim as many much you
nger men and could still sit cross-legged as tailors did traditionally, which none of his colleagues of similar age managed because of distending stomachs and troublesome knees.

  Of course Mrs Beauchamp served her staff the best fare any landowner ever did, and her cook could afford to buy any expensive ingredient he would like to use, which Maria's mother certainly couldn't, and anyway, everyone here seemed to be naturally slim.

  Well, not Maria and she knew it, so she would keep herself from overeating from the start, especially since she felt as if she was with child and all her sisters had gained a lot of weight during their pregnancies. They had lost it afterwards, but not by eating cream pastries and sausages for breakfast.

  Maybe she'd better leave for work before breakfast on work days, to spare herself the temptation.

  'Would you like us to show you us around the house?' Dennis asked in a friendly and cheerful voice, 'I mean our part of it, that Dick didn't show you, yet?'

  Maria still felt a little shy towards him, Dick always called him by his first name and spoke of him as a friend, but Maria couldn't imagine being so familiar with someone she hardly knew, and who would soon be married to Mrs Beauchamp. But she knew he wouldn't appreciate being called sir or master, and she didn't know his last name. She did know he wasn't Mr Beauchamp, that had been Mrs Beauchamp's late husband.

  The uncertainty made her very shy towards him, as well as his beauty and his easy manners, she was just not used to being around handsome young men.

  But Maria had been raised in a very secure, warm family, she had no lack of self-assurance, and somewhere she suddenly found the courage to just ask, or this situation would go on and on and her shyness might even give Dick a totally wrong impression about her feelings for his young friend and soon to be master.

  'I'd love to, but please help me out. Dick says you don't want to be called master or sir, and I know you're not Mr Beauchamp, please tell me, what

  should I call you?'

  Her embarrassment disarmed him totally, and he smiled broadly and said without the slightest hesitation, 'Why, just Dennis of course, as everyone else does. Dick was right that I don't like to be treated with deference, I grew up on the streets of London as a thieving kid, I'll tell you about it some day, I don't deserve all those fancy names and titles. Dennis will do perfectly well.

  Ask Patrick here what happens when you call me sir or even worse, master.'

  The very thought made Dennis laugh out loud, but poor Patrick cringed. He looked very cute in his friend's arms, though Maria was still a bit in awe of Guy, he seemed so arrogant, as if nothing in this

  humble county held anything of interest for him. Still, Dick liked him a lot, so he should be all right.

  Patrick now caught Maria's eye, and said solemnly, 'Don't do it, Mrs Parsons, if you show him the slightest form of respect he'll talk some awful London street brogue to you, rife with curses and altogether hideous. Better do as pleases him and just call him Dennis. And while you're at it, I'm Patrick, and nothing else. And Guy may look like a stuck up city boy, but that's just the outside, he really is the sweetest man that ever lived.'

  And as if to prove it, handsome Guy thawed until he indeed looked like the sweetest man on earth and said, 'I am, really, Mrs Parsons. Ask your little puppy. I got up very early this morning to let her out, and praised her sky-high when she did her thing.'

  'All right,' Maria smiled back, 'I'll call all of you by your first names if you insist, but there will be no Mrs Parsons then, either.'

  Turning to Dick, 'Not that I'm not proud to wear your name, beloved, but it seems wrong to be a missus where everyone else is familiar.'

  Dick nodded, it was clear he understood her reasoning perfectly.

  Back to the rest, 'So please call me Maria. And thank you so much for minding Pixie last night, Guy and Patrick.'

  Mrs Beauchamp didn't seem to mind her beloved's offer to show her servant and his wife their private space. She looked at Dennis fondly, she seemed a bit less self-assured than normal, that must be her pregnancy influencing her behaviour. Dick looked as if he was planning to bring Pixie along, he had taken to carrying her around, the cutest sight ever, but something Mrs Beauchamp might object to in her private chambers.

  'Do you mind Dick taking the puppy along, Mrs Beauchamp?' Maria couldn't help asking.

  The lady of the house seemed a bit absent, but she readily looked up from her musings and faced Maria as she replied, 'I guess he'll be holding her in his hand all the time, and you've just let her out? No problem then. I like dogs, can't have those monsters of mine in my study but your cute little puppy can visit. Thank you for asking, Maria.'

  Somehow Mrs Beauchamp was less impressive today, though Maria realized she had also projected her own feelings of inferiority on the lady of the house, for in fact Mrs Beauchamp had ever been nice to her, and not arrogant or stand-offish at all.

  Chapter 17

  They started in the library, Dick had told Maria he was allowed to go there to borrow books and return them, but he had not included it in his own tour of the house, he had stuck to the servants' part, and the stables.

  The library was large and filled from floor to ceiling with books, row upon row of them, on shelves along the walls, but also in free-standing cases, leaving just enough space to walk around them. The shelves were made of dark wood, as was the floor. Still the room didn't look foreboding or dark, for there were plenty of windows letting in light, and brightly coloured Persian rugs spread on the floor livened things up a little. In the main space a rather large oak table offered a place to read and write, the chairs around it comfortable and very well-suited to sit on for hours.

  'You can use the library whenever you want, Maria,' Mrs Beauchamp offered.

  'I know its unusual, but we're such a small, tightly knit group here that we do not insist on formality. It's very important to read a lot, and I'm not going to keep any of you from improving your minds. Just make sure you return a book before you take another, and always put it back in its right place, Guy can explain exactly how to remember where you got it, and help you find what you want or need.'

  'And make sure you read some of Mrs Beauchamp's own works,' Dennis teased his lady, 'you're married now, so it cannot lead you astray.'

  Dick had told Maria that his mistress wrote naughty books, but he hadn't tried any as yet. This sure was different from what Maria had expected when she thought of moving to the manor, just imagine, all those books, and Maria was allowed to read all of them!

  'I cannot wait to explore, Mrs Beauchamp, I've always loved reading, anything I could lay my hands on, newspapers, novels, works on travels, science. This library is like Heaven to me, though the minister would be angry to hear me say that, he'd tell me there is just one book that counts, and one Heaven.'

  Mrs Beauchamp actually laughed, somehow her mood improved a lot, and

  she replied gaily, 'I can hear him say it, Maria; frankly, I go to church because it is expected of me, but our minister has given up on my soul a long time ago. Though marrying Dennis may make him a tiny bit happier. If you really dare try one of my own books, let me know, I'll lend you one. But beware, they are very naughty! Let me show you where they originate.'

  And she led them out of the library, to the end of the hall, and into the most beautiful room Maria had ever seen. It was as large as her father's workshop but the ceiling was much higher, and it was obviously a woman's sanctuary.

  The woodwork was painted a creamy white and much more elegant than in the library, there was paneling on the walls, the floor was a light mosaic set in an intricate geometrical pattern, the walls above the paneling painted in warm colours, dark pink and old blue.

  The windows had drapes, not velvet but a lighter fabric resembling linen, in a lovely shade of blue. There were a few rugs Maria would have sworn were made of silk, in an oriental pattern but in cooler shades, sapphires and turquoises and emeralds.

  The writing desk was a marvel of practicality, with l
ittle drawers on top of the work surface, and a beautiful inkstand of real silver and mother of pearl.

  The chair was comfortable and was used often, its cover well-worn and its wheels, it had little wheels!, having made tracks in the wooden floor.

  Mrs Beauchamp obviously spent a lot of time in that chair!

  Her current work was lying on the desk, individual sheets of paper written through in a beautiful flowing hand, which Maria couldn't help admiring out loud.

  'You write so beautifully, Mrs Beauchamp, and yet I suppose that is a mere draft, for you've corrected in it.'

  'Thank you, my dear,' Mrs Beauchamp reacted to her praise, 'you are right, it is a draft. Of course I do get a lot of practice writing, but mainly I have found it very important to be able to read my own writing, even when ideas flow quickly and it is hard to keep up with them. No matter how brilliant a new scene, if I cannot read it back afterwards, the work was done in vain.'

  Maria caught Dennis looking at herself with a curious, glad expression. It was as if he had been worried over his lady and was thankful to Maria for distracting Mrs Beauchamp from some sort of unpleasant subject of thought.

  When he saw her watching him, he winked and smiled broadly. She was obviously doing something right.

  After the beautiful study, Mrs Beauchamp showed them her dressing-room, a room just for clothes and putting them on the right way, filled with beautiful dresses, a large mirror and a table with perfume bottles and other ladies'

  necessities.

  There was also a separate room for bathing, which did not surprise Maria as much since Dick had shown him the one he had used each time before he retreated to the room where his mistress wanted him to make love to her. It was on the ground floor, close to the servants' part of the house, and close to the scullery, for easy access to hot water, Maria guessed.

  Of course they did not get to see the couple's bedroom, which would have been too intimate, and when they followed the hall back to the large stairs that went down, they passed a door that Maria wondered about aloud.