Mistress Agnes

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 turqoises and emeralds.

The writing desk was a marvel of practicality, with little 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.

'Where does that door go? There is no space for a room behind it, is there? Since the library occupies all of that side?'

That was probably the wrong question to ask, for Dick turned white as a sheet and clutched her hand, and Mrs Beauchamp looked positively sad and even a bit guilty. Her improved mood seemed to have flown, and Maria felt really bad.

Until Dennis said cheerily, 'You are right, Maria, the library takes up all the space, except for a staircase leading to the attic. It's the entire floor on top of this one, and below the roof. You have quite an insight in dimensions to have spotted that.'

After this explanation, Dick and Mrs Beauchamp seemed to recover a little, but still, something bad must have happened up there. Dick had reacted strongly to mention of the attic before. Maybe there were stories of ghosts, old houses often had those. Though they didn't exactly look afraid but rather sad. Before Maria could excuse herself for bringing up a subject that was obviously painful, Dennis made a little gesture that seemed to signify to let it go, he'd explain later, so Maria did. And when they had gone down the stairs, and outside, to let the puppy do her thing, Mrs Beauchamp laughed about little Pixie's antics as heartily as the rest of them, sadness forgotten.

Soon afterwards she went upstairs to dress for riding. Dennis stayed behind, 'I'm always dressed for riding!' and as Dick followed Pixie around to let her explore but keep her from chasing the chickens, Dennis gestured Maria to sit down with him for a moment, and he said in a low voice, 'Something bad happened in that attic that Agnes feels responsible for. It still makes her very sad to be reminded of it, but I'm working on that.

Dick knows, but please don't push him to tell you, he feels bad about it, too. I'd rather you let me tell you about it, it concerns me most of everyone in this household, so I hope you'll be patient and spare the others the pain. Of course you can discuss it with Dick afterwards, you shouldn't be keeping secrets from your husband.

Thank you so much for cheering Agnes just now, Maria, she was feeling a bit low this morning and talking to you helped a lot. Maybe your mum was right, maybe it's better for her to have a woman around. Anyway, I'll try to find an hour to tell you what happened in the attic somewhere today or tomorrow, I have great trust in you.'

Maria could so understand Mrs Beauchamp adoring this man, with his good looks and his sweet manners. He seemed to have a way with people, but what did he mean by having trust in Maria? Guy and Patrick being together, despite being two men? They looked so happy. Could two women love each other like that? Were all men sharing a house when they weren't brothers the same? Come to think of it, hadn't Beatrice hinted at that sometimes when mentioning a household of two men in a village across the river?

Dennis was waiting patiently for her to finish her thought, Maria guessed either living with Dick had taught him that, or his ability to wait for people to finish their thoughts had endeared him to Dick.

'I will wait for you to tell me, Dennis, I wouldn't hurt Dick for the world, which is why I am glad I can talk to him about it after you've told me. I suppose I'd rather not know if I couldn't. And I want you to know Patrick and Guy's secret is safe with me as well, Dick has suffered so much from all those nasty rumours people spread about him, totally undeservedly, I suppose living in a village one cannot prevent that. People so like to talk.'

'Not just villages, Maria, believe me, city people gossip just as badly and as meanly. Thank you for your understanding, we've all been worried. Agnes never wanted women around because she thought they talked too much. I'm glad she is wrong in your case. I'm afraid even your mother cannot know, Maria.'

'Don't worry, Dennis, as long as I can talk to Dick, and if it concerns him, maybe to you, or to Patrick, he seems very understanding, I'll gladly keep a secret or two.'

'Thank you, Maria, you can choose either of us if you need to talk within this household. Agnes is truly the mistress here but I am not above you. I grew up a gutter-rat, my mother was a whore and she died young, I never knew my father. I was born lower than any of you, and sank even lower before I was rescued and came to live here. I will never forget that, and I hope you will always see me as an equal.'

Maria couldn't hide her stunned amazement hearing Dennis truly came from the bottom of society. He was so eloquent, and so well-groomed and gentle. Her expression caused him to smile broadly once more and he called out to Dick, 'C'm ere, Dick, better be doing the bear with the missus than them mutt you have there!'

It was atrocious, his voice and face changed to how Maria would have imagined a gutter-rat, and yet Maria was certain he was holding back because she was a woman, and a relative stranger. Patrick must have gotten much worse.

'All right, I believe you! And thank you, Dennis.'

By now, Dick was back at Maria's side, and Dennis intercepted his own lady and walked her to the stables, he must have seen Mrs Beauchamp coming, dressed in trousers, since she rode her spirited hunter astride. Maria so admired her for her independence.

'You couldn't believe he was from the streets?' Dick asked, laughing, still cuddling the tiny puppy.

'But now you do, don't you?'

'I sure do, Dick, I've never heard anything like it, and I bet he even spared me for being a woman. Can we cuddle a little, right here?'

'It's our vacation, Maria, we can do whatever we like!'

Agnes was glad for the distraction that riding and hunting would give, it had seemed like such a good idea to take Dennis back to the attic to address his trauma over what had happened there, but she had totally forgotten the impact it would have on herself.

And it had been bad for Dennis, reliving those horrible months of captivity, in loneliness and total darkness. But somehow he seemed different now, did she dare hope her plan had worked for him at least? It was well worth raking up her own guilt and pain if he benefited, he had a right to be free from fear and independent of will. She needed him strong and positive, in case something happened to her during her pregnancy, they all did. They needed his social skills, too, with another woman now part of their household, and such an intelligent and observant one, that had become more clear than ever this morning. Agnes could handle any male but she had never been very good at relating to other women, they often reacted totally differently from what she expected. What if Maria talked freely to the people in her village?

Dennis had startled Agnes by inviting Maria to view the more private parts of the house, but as the tour progressed she had come to realize Dennis was right to let a smart, self-sufficient woman into their household from the start, win her instead of trying to keep her out of their affairs. She'd find out anyway, Dick couldn't keep a secret from someone he loved, not if his life depended on it; the only way to keep Maria from talking about whatever was going on at the manor with her friends and parents was being friends with her themselves. And Agnes didn't even have to take the first steps towards friendship herself, Patrick was a natural choice, and Dennis as good as offered by being so familiar.

Besides, Agnes liked Maria pretty well, and being pregnant she might indeed start to appreciate having a woman about, even if that woman had only just been married and didn't yet have any children of her own.

'You're not beating yourself up again, are you, my love?'

Dennis was so sweet, and so concerned, the neediness he had always shown, but which had worsened since the blow to his head, seemed to have vanished into thin air, he was so supportive of Agnes today.

'Actually no, my love, I was contemplating our first morning with Mrs Parsons. It went pretty well, don't you think? Thanks to you, mainly. Of course we won't know for certain until a month or two have passed, I just hope she'll keep quiet about Patrick and Guy. She didn't seem overly shocked by the two of them behaving like smitten adolescents.'

'You were really nice yourself, Agnes, I'm sure she was very pleased to get a reception like that from the mistress of the house. And I have high hopes for Maria, my love, she's extremely sensible, and very devoted to Dick. I don't think she is the kind to gossip.'

By now, Dennis started to get distracted from their conversation by the beauty of the landscape they were riding in, he was looking about him in awe, the moors were beautiful, and he hadn't been on horseback for months. That reminded Agnes, he probably needed his wits about him on his lively mare, she'd better not distract him too much with endless talk, though he had started it. And they'd better keep their rides short for a few days or he'd stiffen up beyond painful, though Agnes was aching to go outside as often and as long as she still could, before many months had passed she would get big and clumsy and riding would become too dangerous.

For now it was glorious, sharing a ride again, cantering over the hills and through the valleys, letting the horses rest while sitting on the top of a heath-covered hill hand in hand. Agnes felt only slightly sorry to disturb the peace of the moors by stalking a couple of quail while Dennis held the horses. As her shots tore up the silence, the dogs pointed out where the birds had fallen and Agnes retrieved them herself. She was an expert marksman and had killed both instantly, and imagining what they would taste like she relished Cook's idea of serving them with only a minimum of seasoning, lightly roasted. After days of broth and porridge she was ready for something a little more solid.

'It's time to turn back, my love,' Dennis observed, 'I'm starting to feel my muscles stiffening, I'm not used to riding anymore. I think I'll need a bath as it is, and we promised Dick he could have this week off, I'll have to lug the water myself.'

And he would have done just that if Agnes didn't have a better plan.

'We'll use Dick's own bathroom, it's next to the scullery, we can let the hot water in directly from the vat that is used to heat it. Cook knows how to do that, don't worry, you'll have your bath, and I'll join you and give you a good massage.'

Agnes helped him get up and mount, then tied the two fowl to her saddle and mounted her own hunter. It was another half hour back to the house, and Dennis rode as well as ever, both relishing the feeling of freedom being the only people on the moor gave them.

But it soon became clear no-one told Dick what to do in his honeymoon week.

When they rode into view of the house, John came towards them to take the horses to walk them dry, and since Agnes was busy dismounting and untying her catches from her saddle she never saw what happened exactly, just the result.

Dennis must have misjudged his own stiffness, or had a slight dizzy spell after all, for a sound of dismay came from the old haystack, where Dick and Maria were enjoying the sun, followed closely by loud thump and a grunt of pain from Dennis. He had fallen off his horse while dismounting!

Before Agnes could see to him, she was still holding a horse after all, Dick had come running, and he carefully, almost tenderly, lifted Dennis off the ground. Before Agnes could worry for her beloved, falling from a horse could be dangerous even when standing still, Dennis said with humour, 'I'm fine, Dick, just stiff from riding for the first time after weeks of inactivity.'

Then, much softer, as if in reply to something Dick had whispered, 'I understand, Dick, I'm sorry I never realized you felt that way. Do you want us to talk about it? This afternoon? With Maria? She needs to know, too.'

Dick spoke again, but again Agnes couldn't hear what he said. He seemed really affected, and held on to Dennis as if he was never going to let him go. Her beloved did not seem to mind at all, but rather embraced the large man firmly, and ruffled his hair with affection, settling in his arms easily.

Then Dick turned towards Agnes, clearly not planning to let go of Dennis at all, and said, 'I'm taking Dennis to my bath, mistress, he's fine but stiff and bruised. Will you follow me? He shouldn't walk until he has had his bath.'

Before Agnes could help it, she had exclaimed, 'But Dick, it's your honeymoon!'

'I know, mistress, and I really want to help Dennis feel better. I'll be back with Maria in half an hour, less even. She won't mind, she told me to help my friend and let her watch Pixie.'

So Dick easily carried Dennis into the house, his face soft, his arms cradling Dennis protectively. Suddenly Agnes thought she understood what had affected Dick so much, it must have been Dennis falling off the horse and Dick lifting him up to take him to the house. It had reminded poor Dick of the first time he had seen Dennis, still in an army uniform, stone cold, emaciated and unconscious, close to death by exposure.

Dick might be a huge fellow and incredibly strong, he was also very sensitive, much more so than any of them had ever realized. Or maybe the respect with which he had been treated by in their household had given him the chance to allow his natural sensitivity to surface, for when he first arrived he had seemed like any other dumb farmhand in the neighbourhood.

Effortlessly, for all that Dennis was an adult and not a small man, Dick carried Dennis all the way to the room in which Agnes used to let Dick take her, as roughly as he managed, ages ago, before Dennis arrived. She remembered neither of the two men, Dick or Dennis, ever managing to really do that to her satisfaction, and somehow she felt a bit ashamed to have wanted that so badly. A friendly man one could depend on was so much better.

Was that her pregancy speaking?

Suddenly she remembered that morning, in the attic. Hadn't Dennis given her exactly what she wanted all those months ago?

By now, Dick had carefully sat Dennis on the bed and left the room.

'Isn't he the sweetest guy ever? Agnes, my love, he had the same thing we had, memories of the past troubling him. I promised we'd talk it over, this afternoon when you're working.'

The very idea of Dennis discussing their private affairs with Dick was enough to make Agnes turn white, but part of her knew it couldn't be avoided. Dick couldn't keep secrets from his wife, and he had seen everything. He hadn't witnessed Agnes whipping the helpless prisoner in the attic, but he'd seen the cuts on his friend's back and undoubtedly remembered how they stung when his own father had whipped him.