Mistress Agnes Ch. 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, and held it before him. Seconds later, Dennis retched neatly into the bag, and when he was done, the doctor got a large grey handkerchief from his vest-pocket, and 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, and he said, 'I'm sorry sir, but no. I've never seen you before, and I cannot remember a thing. My head hurts, and I'm still nauseous. Will you send me back out? Or can I stay in the sick-bay 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 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 that 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 sincere 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 tell. It is not uncommon to completely recover from such an injury, but it can cause a person to change dramatically as well.

You 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 of 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 we need to get 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, and suddenly imagined it cold and still, as Frederick's had been, something inside her broke, and she let her fear and shock out in shuddering sobs.

Dennis 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 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, until Guy would come and take things in hand.

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, 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 heart-rending, 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, pretty badly, gasping for breath, and 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.

He said soothingly, 'I think his skull is not broken, it might be cracked, but that is not lethal, it just takes a long time to heal.

He will have a huge swelling where he was hit, that may take weeks to go away, it will darken dramatically then fade through all the colours of the rainbow, that is nothing to worry about.

I can see you're very upset over his rantings, he must have been through a lot before you met him, Mrs Beauchamp, it sounds like he was in the army or something like that, it must be painful to have him seem afraid of you, but it is actually a good sign, he has the energy to resist, he can speak in sentences, and he is not fading away, which is all good. All his memories are mixed up right now, they will probably settle in due time.

I do worry about that wheeze, are you sure he wasn't hit somewhere else? His lungs could be damaged, or his larynx.'

She had to tell him.

'Actually, he used to do that all the time, he said it was a nervous condition. It went away when we got together and talked a lot about his past. He must be very upset to have it come back.'

'A nervous condition, that is very interesting indeed. Let me think.'

And the good man did think, chin in his one hand, the other on his head. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Agnes would have been diverted.

Seconds later, he looked at her and said, 'Nothing to worry about. He's upset with the memories he is reliving, once they're settled, it will go away again. Better let him rest a lot, for weeks, at least four to six, no reading, no writing, no physical exertions, no mental or emotional strain. I'll be visiting again soon. I have good hope all will be well, Mrs Beauchamp, your fiancée seems pretty hardy.

And of course, everything I hear and see in the pursuit of my calling is strictly confidential. I wish you a good day, Mrs Beauchamp. If you are worried, please send for me.'

He bowed, and went away.

Milly came in for a moment, to say goodbye as well.

'I'm off for home, Agnes. I'm sorry my choice turned out so badly, but I'm glad your man was with us. I thought he was a mere gentleman, but now I see he is much, much more. I'm looking forward to getting to know him, my cousin says he will most likely make a full recovery.

I will contact you tomorrow, see how he is doing, and how you are doing. Don't worry about our appointments, I will not press you to work when your fiancée is in danger.

I'll let myself out, my love, or maybe Patrick here can do the honours? Your master will be fine, my dear man, I told you my cousin is the best.'

Patrick did get up and led her away, poor man, he was so worried over his friend. But Guy would settle him, they were so close, nothing could come between those two. He'd be fine.

Alone with her beloved, but not as she'd hoped to, he was still wheezing a little, but it was receding somewhat. Agnes stroked his cheeks as she always did, forgetting there had been a time that she couldn't touch him in his sleep for fear of a violent reaction.

And so his eyes flew open, he tried to sit up to defend himself from danger, but then he recognized Agnes and let himself be guided back to the bed gently.

'I don't feel so good, mistress,' he said with a tiny, husky voice. His hand felt his throat once more, a good sign, the doctor would say, control over his limbs, but to Agnes it was a sign of heartbreaking humility.

'Will you leave the collar off tonight?'

Kissing his face with all the love and heartbreak she felt, she didn't explain, but merely said, 'Yes, Dennis, I will leave the collar off.'

He managed a smile.

'Thank you so much, mistress. You're so kind to me. And you called me Dennis. I love you.'

And with that, he fell into a quiet sleep, his breathing regular and the wheeze diminishing until it stopped altogether. She let him sleep for a few hours, then woke him to offer him a glass of water.

'Agnes? What happened? I feel awful, my head hurts, and I'm dizzy. I want to drink, but I'm afraid I'll throw up if I sit up. There was a fight, wasn't there? Is everyone all right?

You're crying, did someone get hurt?'

Guy came running with a glass of water and a bucket, and he very carefully helped Dennis to sit up. He waited a moment to see whether Dennis would keep from throwing up, then offered him the water.

'Mrs Beauchamp has been very worried about you, Dennis. You got hit pretty badly, and you're still not out of danger. I'm going to wake you up again in a few hours, so please don't hurt me in your sleep. Yes? Ready to go back to sleep?'

Dennis nodded, and Guy helped him back down.

Looking at Agnes with softness, but without fear or humility, he let himself drift off again slowly, and she stroked him until he slept.

When he was breathing regularly once more, Guy said to Agnes, 'Mrs Beauchamp, you get a little sleep yourself, right there beside him. I'm keeping an eye on both of you, and when I get tired, I will wake Patrick. Then when he gets tired, you can take over again. Agreed?'

'Agreed, my dear friend. I love you Guy, thank you so much.'

And Agnes snuggled against the warm body of her beloved, and promptly fell asleep.

The next day, Dennis felt awful, his body hurt everywhere, and past and present still didn't seem separated by a clear boundary. He had had a nightmare again, this time of gagging on an iron collar, seeing his beloved standing over him with a whip, smiling cruelly.

He woke with a cry, wheezing, his first reaction to check his throat, the concerned face close to his frightening him in his befuddled state.

Before he remembered who he was, and where he was, his reaction had her in tears, not daring to touch him in her shame and anxiety for him. As soon as he could speak again, he whispered her name, and she took him in her arms and covered him in tender kisses, still crying.

'I hurt, Agnes, not just my head, all over.'

'But you saved all of us, Dennis, those thugs would have killed us or raped us for sure.'

He still didn't remember what had happened, but it didn't matter, he'd ask her, as soon as his mind settled a bit more. For now, he was still dizzy, nauseous and upset with the dreams he had suffered, they were so vivid, and Agnes had been so unfeeling, so cruel to him.

'What is wrong, Dennis? You look almost afraid of me again, you know I love you more than anything, don't you? I'll never hurt you again, I'm so sorry I ever did.'

They had never talked about that, it was just too painful yet, how she had left him by himself day in, day out, in the dark, chained to the wall, in constant pain to catch his breath, with nothing to do but lie on a bed and wait for the minutes to crawl by until she visited again, not to talk or get to know him better, but to please him sexually, or to have him please her, roughly, dominantly.

And the last weeks of his captivity, when she had ignored his plea to be set free, arguing she needed him all to herself, not listening to his repeated assurance that he would be her slave no matter what.

She had taken a whip to him instead, hoping to break him to her will, but instead she had broken him altogether, and he had just given up, gasping for breath, waiting to die.

He had forgiven her, and he hadn't felt the need to talk to her about it, Guy and Patrick had coaxed him to talk to them, to get it off his chest, as Agnes had coaxed the horrid memories of his past out of him, ridding him of his nightmares.

But this was not a normal situation, the pain at the back of his head made him realize he had sustained a significant hit, shaking his brain, causing him to remember the past as vividly as if it was now.

'I know, love,' he managed to say. 'But just now, I didn't. I saw you standing over me with a whip, ready to make an end to me. My mind's playing games with me, mixing up memories. I can't stop it, just hold me and tell me you love me, and help me hope it will pass.'

There was nothing for her to say, it was still so infinitely painful to her, and she needed her strength to meet her editor, and her readers, all those perfectly groomed ladies with genteel husbands, and profitable marriages.

Dennis knew the memories of her husband still pained her whenever she was in town, her feelings about him so ambiguous, she had loved him so much, but he had owned her so totally. Fear of such slavish devotion was the reason she had wanted to enslave someone in the first place, she wanted the passion and the heat of a strong man, but she didn't want to be in someone's power ever again.

He hoped that by now she knew there were passionate men who didn't feel the need to rule their partner, who would just accept what was offered and leave her mind and body her own.

He wanted to support her in these difficult weeks, but now she would have to face all those occasions by herself once more, he would take weeks to recover, and what if past and present never separated again?

He'd be a mess, and a danger to himself, betraying his desertion in his delusions, or to bystanders, if he were to find himself on the battlefield, suddenly, fighting for his life.

'I will be here for you, Dennis. Whatever happens, I will be yours forever.

Now, do you need to go to the privy, or do you want to take a bath?'

He just couldn't get up, as soon as he tried to get further than sitting up, everything started to spin and he started heaving, though there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up.

'Will you please send for Patrick to help me use the bedpan and to clean me up? I cannot stand the thought of your seeing me like this, reduced to a physical wreck once more. It will bring back memories as well, I don't want you to witness that and feel even worse. Please?'

'Letting Patrick clean you will bring more memories back than letting me do it, my love. I never did that for you, it'll be a totally new experience, and I want so much to be with you, can we at least try?'

He couldn't argue with that, so he nodded his agreement.

Agnes knew how to help an invalid, she'd served Frederick's every need in his last months of life, and she skilfully assisted her beloved, first helping him to use the bedpan, then giving him a thorough but painless cleaning.

When she was done, he was nearly ready to sleep again, his stomach could not yet handle solid food, so he let her feed him some broth. That brought back memories, but he was still very much awake, and they did not get hold of him. What she did next just stunned him, she stroked his testicles very gently until his ardour shot up, then took his throbbing, rising penis in her mouth and licked it slowly, checking his face for signs of nausea or pain.

He couldn't move, for fear of spilling his guts all over her, but he dared touch her back, careful not to sit up or reach beyond his strength.

Despite his pain and the dizziness, it felt wonderful, and the feel of her skin and hair, and her gentle touch on his most intimate parts brought back good memories, memories of lying in the hay-stack together, probing each other's bodies in the warm sunlight. And of that time he chased her up the hill, and took her against a tree, Dick stepping in to make a fabulous threesome. The ride his big friend gave her, it was just incredible.

'Remember how you rode Dick that day on the hill?'

She did, her mouth sucked his dick with sudden ardour, and she let go for a second to say, 'That was fabulous. I'd love to do that again, but I guess Maria Woods will be the happy woman next time he gets ridden.'

She didn't seem too unhappy about it, though, and she resumed her ministrations very slowly, but no less tantalizingly.

Dennis felt his ardour rise until he was in a state of total ecstasy, and when he felt his climax nearing fast, he stroked her head once, their sign that his sticky mess was on its way. Looking up at him, she continued her glorious action with her hand, and soon he shuddered in release, a wave of nausea bothering his stomach for a mere second, after which he lay still once more, savouring the moment.

She rinsed her hand at the wash-stand, then came back to kiss him with ardour, he could feel the heat she had worked up, but there was nothing he could do to release her, it would be some time before he could ride her again, or taste her again.

'You can always go to Patrick and Guy, can't you? Guy actually likes making love to girls as well as boys, Patrick is the one mostly stuck on guys.'

Agnes smiled, and she replied soothingly, 'I can stand a bit of heat, Dennis, I don't need instant gratification anymore. I'll wait until you're back to yourself, or I'll give myself release, and you may watch.

That afternoon, Agnes had her first private meeting, and Dennis urged her to attend. It was only an hour after all, and he slept most of the time anyway, watched over by Patrick, as Guy accompanied his mistress.

Those first days were spent sleeping his concussion off, the present slowly starting to dominate the past again, and the nightmares receding.

But after five days, he felt much better, and he became restless and bored, and yes, he was reminded of his captivity ever more, though there was plenty of light in this room. He could walk around and explore the house, but Agnes was out very often, and he started to feel neglected, brooding on the past, imagining what his love was doing right now, jealous of her freedom once again.

It was not exactly fair of him, and a tiny part of him kept telling him that. He had told her she could go, told her he was mostly asleep, and when she returned he didn't ask about what she had been doing, he merely accepted her loving and went back to sleep.

The fact that he was much more awake now was something Agnes couldn't know. But somehow this was a very sensitive issue to him, and he had promised to never hold the past against Agnes, so when she finally came home he kept his mouth firmly shut.

She was so glad to see him fully awake, and lucid, and she hugged him carefully and very tightly. It didn't hurt physically, he merely thought she might have come back a little earlier, or taken him along.

'What is the matter Dennis? You don't seem happy at all.'

Since he didn't speak up, but stayed grumpy, Agnes tried her very best to cheer him up, and she stroked and fondled him eagerly.

But somehow that was the wrong thing to do, Dennis' memories had been stirred up forcibly by the concussion, and he remembered his days of confinement, and Agnes, then his mistress, only spending time on loving him, and not at all on talking to him.