Elizabeth 04: Late Summer (part 2)

Irene did tell Benjamin what had happened between us; that much I do know. Exactly what she told him or how he received the news was to remain a mystery, for she never told me (or Elizabeth that I know of) anything of it all. I knew well enough not to look either of them up in the ensuing days, and so all the angst and mystery of the day after were still very much in force when Elizabeth and Jonathan returned to Westfordshire City on Saturday. Though I did not know with certainty which train they were on, I was quite desperate to see my friends again and, on an educated guess, went to the station in time to meet the afternoon train.

They shone like a pair of diamonds amongst the crowd emerging from the train, and I was nearly bursting with joy when I flagged them down. "Agnes!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise! You hardly needed to come meet us, you know!"

"Oh yes I did!" I replied, enveloping them both in a hug at once. "Yes, I certainly did."

"What on earth has gone wrong, then?" Jonathan asked.

"Wrong?" I was suddenly reluctant to talk about it, though I knew it must be done.

"Anyone can see you are quite agitated about something," Elizabeth agreed. "Shall we go for a round of wine in town, after Jonathan and I are rid of our luggage?"

"Please!" I agreed. "I'll tell you everything once we're settled there. No need to worry you in the meantime."

And so it was that I accompanied them to Jonathan's downtown flat, where they left their suitcases, and then it was around the corner to the café. Elizabeth squeezed my hand and provided me with sympathetic, non-judgmental looks periodically throughout the wait.

With few afternoon customers in the warm summer weather, we were able to secure an intimate corner table at the café, where Elizabeth and Jonathan lost no time in fortifying me with a lovely glass of chilled white wine. "Gulp down as much as you need, dear, and please tell us what is going on," Elizabeth prodded as soon as the barmaid had retreated.

With a few large sips out of the way, I was finally able to open up. "Irene and I, the other night – or morning actually – well, night and morning..."

"Oh, good heavens!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "You and Irene – in bed?!"

"She didn't actually say that, Elizabeth," Jonathan said. "Let us not jump to conclusions."

"I am afraid she jumped to the correct conclusion." I said it staring down at the table, unable to make eye contact with either of my friends.

"Oh, dear." Jonathan sounded almost frightened as he said it.

"Well..." Elizabeth stammered, "That is a lot to take in, Agnes. I mean, it is not my place to get angry with you, but..."

"But you are?" I asked, finally looking my friend in the eye.

"Well...no. Like I said, it's not my place. But I am, well, hurt. I mean, we are all so very close, and what will happen now that you and Irene have hurt Benjamin like that?"

"I know!" I said, near tears once again. "How I know. And yet, the pull to play was ever so irresistible, and Irene did say she was willing to a point."

"To a point?" Jonathan probed.

"We were to play only with ourselves," I recalled. "We could look but not touch, but then we woke up together and we were in fact touching, and neither of us could stop." I paused and waited for a reproof for one or both of my friends. None coming, I continued. "I blame only myself, I assure you! It is just that Benjamin was gone, and here I am still ever so alone when I had thought Edward and I should be married by now, and Irene did say she had interest in women as well as men..." My voice trailed away a moment too late as I recalled that she had never told Elizabeth of that matter that I was aware of. But I could not un-ring the bell!

"Irene said what?!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "My word, we do miss some interesting developments when we go to the country, Jonathan!"

"My dear, have you never noticed how Irene looks at you when she has had too much wine?" Jonathan asked. "And Agnes too, now that I think of it?"

"You knew?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Not formally, no," Jonathan reassured her. "She is your best friend and but my cousin, and surely she would have told you first. But it was not something I needed to be told, I suppose."

"You are not suggesting Irene has designs on me, though," Elizabeth said. Then, turning to me, she asked, "Does she?"

"I am so sorry, I have already said far too much on the matter," I said.

"Then you had just as well not stop now!" I could tell Elizabeth was struggling not to sound frustrated; but she did not quite succeed.

A deep breath, and I continued. "She and I both, I suppose, had this wonderful image of you and Benjamin side by side, and us running our fingers through both your..." I could not go on for fear I should die of embarrassment.

Jonathan, perhaps surprisingly, found the revelation amusing. "That does sound positively adorable, Elizabeth, does it not?"

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, and at long last she allowed a smile. "Rather enjoyable for Benjamin and myself as well, I confess," she admitted. Then she took my hand in both of hers. "I suppose it is a bit my own fault, given all the randy situations I have led you and Irene through, that one or two of us ultimately lost control."

"No!" I reassured her. "I blame no one but myself, Elizabeth! I have two good hands and a wonderful imagination, and I should have left it at that."

"Yes, but I suppose our frequenting the baths and talking so openly about all things intimate, not to mention that night in my room –" At that mention, I instinctively looked at Jonathan and could see he did not know what she referred to, but Elizabeth was not to be deterred. "Sorry, Jonathan, I never told you; several months ago Irene and I spent a night in my room teaching Agnes to masturbate. I assure you we did not touch her, nor she us, but the three of us did spend the night in my bed together."

"I see." Jonathan looked more titillated than angry, bless his patient heart.

"In any event, Agnes, I cannot help but feel I set the stage for something like this to occur sooner or later, particularly while you remain single. But I must say I had not anticipated what you have told me about Irene."

"I do not blame you at all," I repeated. "Perhaps you were as powerless against all this as I was, Elizabeth, you and your hunger. The hairy ones are the horny ones, after all!"

"I'll drink to that," Jonathan added with a mischievous grin.

"Thank you so much," Elizabeth replied with a look of her own that appeared to say this matter would be settled later on in bed – or perhaps it

wouldn't

be settled. "Perhaps you are right, Agnes. Regardless of fault, though, I suppose something must be done to relieve the tension between us all if we are to remain friends. There are bridges to rebuild and doors we must unlock."

"Do you say that for my sake only?" I asked suspiciously.

"Hardly!" Elizabeth replied. "Jonathan and I enjoyed a very eventful holiday, you see." (You must recall, dear reader, that at this point I had no knowledge of the events with Frances or their other new friends; Elizabeth was to tell me of all this several days later.) "And we learned yet more about the importance of communicating with those closest to you. One is never too old to learn, I suppose. We met a wonderful group of young friends who had been beset with some communication troubles of their own, and had I known what was waiting for us back here, I'd have spent the entire trip turning it all over in my mind. Now that we are up to date, Agnes, no need for that."

"I know not what you are suggesting," I admitted.

"Nor I, and I was there," Jonathan added.

"When Jonathan and I are married," Elizabeth continued, "That shall change the dynamic of our circle of friends. I am afraid it must, whether we wish it to or not. The same shall be true should Irene and Benjamin marry, and I assure you, Agnes, you will find your special one as well in good time. Whether we like it or not, our days as a gang of chums are numbered. Less than a year now until the wedding, as a matter of fact. So this is no time for any of us to repress our feelings for one another or to wreak havoc behind one another's backs. My dears, I believe a holiday of our own is most in order."

Little else was said on that matter before we paid our bill and left the café. Jonathan struggled to look disapproving, but Elizabeth and I could tell he was most intrigued by her vague yet thrilling suggestion. I, for my part, made no effort to hide my own titillation; after all, my own secrets were already in the open and her suggestion was the perfect complement to them. Elizabeth tidied up the proposal with a firm reassurance that more concrete plans could be made later. "We must discuss the matter with Irene and Benjamin as well, after all," she said as we emerged into the hazy sunshine. "And also, I believe little Alexandria is off to school shortly. I should like to see her off with a woman-to-woman talk, I think, before we take our own leave."

"That reminds me, Uncle has said he wishes you to do just that," I told Elizabeth. And at that point, dear reader, I made a serious mistake. For reasons I understood neither then nor now, I did not tell her what Alexandria had revealed as to her knowledge of Elizabeth and the city baths. Perhaps I did not wish to discuss the matter in public, perhaps I was restrained by the lack of any detailed awareness of just what Alexandria did know – she had, after all, said only that she did not know just what we "were up to in those baths" – but whatever the reason, I held my tongue on that uncomfortable subject.

"I should be more than glad to have a chat with her," Elizabeth told me in that long last moment when I could have added all I knew, but did not. "If there is anything I can do to save her or any other girl from the nightmares I endured, then I shall certainly do it." And with a round of chaste kisses on the cheek, she and Jonathan were off and I was alone at the stop.

That afternoon I wrote a letter of apology each to Irene and Benjamin, divulging no inappropriate information to either of them and proffering my sincere hope that our friendship would heal in good time. After posting the letters, a nap relieved me of the effects of the wine, but the memory of Elizabeth's proposal and the angst of not knowing the reactions to my letters had me most nervous. In spite of myself, my mind once again wandered to the memory of Irene so soft and lovely against my body. As I sat up on my bed and gazed out the window at the hazy summer landscape I had so loved for so long, I strove to turn my thoughts anywhere but to what Irene and I had done.

It was no use, however, as I saw not the serene empty field that was in fact beyond my window, but rather Irene and myself frolicking joyfully nude in the soft grass, caressing one another and shrieking with uninhibited delight in our naughty play. The emptiness of my room offering no comfort or any alternative to my busy imagination, I gave in and spent the next quarter of an hour lying back with my gaze out the window and my hands up my skirt. My own still-inexperienced touch was a poor substitute for Irene's delightfully crafty fingers all about my vulva, but the memory of her in my arms and in my thighs was perfectly delightful nevertheless. I rubbed myself to two lovely orgasms as I envisioned Irene's beautiful body, her shy smile, her uninhibited touch and kiss, and myself fearlessly returning the favour.

The following morning had grey, threatening skies, as if a summer downpour might appear at any moment. I slept poorly due to overindulgence on wine the evening before, and forced myself to arise for breakfast in hope that would alleviate my suffering. I had the good stroke of luck to find little Joy and Thomas at breakfast when I arrived. "Agnes!" Joy squealed when she saw me. "But where is Auntie Elizabeth?"

"Well, I don't know," I said. "Perhaps she is waiting for you in the nursery?" It was Sandrine's day off, and Elizabeth filled in for her on such days in return for reduced rent.

"No, she is not," declared their nurse in her usual dour tone. "And she had better present herself there shortly!" As if to follow through on her unspoken threat, the tense woman arose and strode purposefully out to the hall and the stairwell.

Thomas dared look over his shoulder to see she was gone. Seeing the coast was clear, he said to me, "I agree, she'd better be there. Who would want to sit with Nurse all morning when we could have Auntie Elizabeth?!"

"I want to hear all about her lovely trip!" Joy continued. "I have a new idea for my first trip, when I'm old enough. I'm going to go to Australia!" Thomas smirked at her, but said nothing; he knew better than to say anything negative that might come to Elizabeth's ears and deprive him of her usual embrace.

"I am sure Elizabeth will be delighted to hear of that, Joy," I said. "But where is your sister? I believe your father wishes for Elizabeth to have a word with her."

"Already up in the nursery," Thomas explained. "She was fresh with Nurse this morning so she didn't get any breakfast. I can't wait for her to be off to school!"

I knew I should tell Thomas not to say such things. But I found I could not condemn him for wishing to be free of his sister's difficult company.

At that moment, I heard the front door of the mansion burst open. I guessed – correctly – that it would be Elizabeth, rushing in from Jonathan's flat in the city, freshly washed and dressed as if she had just come from her own room. Sometimes rushed, but never unprepared, that was our Elizabeth. "Good morning, children!" she exclaimed as she brushed through the dining room, grabbing up a biscuit and some fruit. "And Agnes! Molly, is my tea ready upstairs?" she asked the kitchen maid.

"Brewing now, milady," Molly reassured her. "And no, the mister and missus haven't been round."

"Oh good, then!" Elizabeth exclaimed, and she sat down to eat her breakfast most quickly.

"Why is that good?" Thomas asked with a hungry grin, always deathly curious of Elizabeth's life outside the nursery.

"That is none of your concern, Thomas, is it?" I interjected.

"I suppose not," he admitted, while Elizabeth flashed me a grateful silent look. "It is only that Father and Mother should hardly care, long as she is here on time, isn't that right?"

"Quite right, Thomas," Elizabeth said. "Quite right."

Her impromptu breakfast eaten as quickly as it had been assembled, Elizabeth was off upstairs just before the nurse reappeared to collect Thomas and Joy.

The threatened rain came not long afterward, but Elizabeth created a pleasant haven in the nursery with her appropriately sanitized recount of her and Jonathan's travels. Joy hung onto every word about train stations and compartment cars and the view of the world rushing by, while Thomas no doubt thrilled to the opportunity to simply look at Elizabeth as she told the tale. Alexandria, having ignored the invitation to join her brother and sister around the table, spent the morning curled up on the window seat, gazing out at the rain and saying not a word. Elizabeth cast a hopeful eye in her direction now and again, through the story and then through the subsequent playtime while she sipped her tea and supervised Thomas and Joy; but Alexandria never rewarded her with a glance.

Little wonder, Elizabeth thought to herself, if the poor girl had heard any such stories as her own of life as a first-year boarder. Difficult as Alexandria had been of late, it was not something Elizabeth could condemn in light of her own nasty memories of those days. But perhaps had she known something of what to expect...no, she did not suppose that would have helped. What, then, would? Elizabeth asked herself that question time and again as she sipped her tea through the late morning. Only one answer emerged with any plausibility to speak of, and it came to Elizabeth again and again even as she groped for some other option: hearing from an adult who had survived and thrived in the face of all the unpleasantness.

At least she could offer Alexandria that, Elizabeth knew. In light of Alexandria's attitude of late, she had precious little desire to attempt it. But there was no other option at her disposal, and she had agreed to Uncle's request. With ten minutes or so to lunchtime and the younger children happily ensconced in their own activities, Elizabeth took a deep breath and approached the window seat gingerly. "Alex," she said gently as she sat at the far end of the seat from where the girl was curled up. "Your father has asked me to talk to you about things."

"Things," Alexandria repeated the word as if it were the epitome of stupidity. "What things are those, Elizabeth?"

"I think you know, my dear," Elizabeth said. "Leaving for school, and your attitude." She reached for Alexandria's hand, but the girl drew away and curled up tighter, as if frightened. "Believe me, I can imagine how intimidated you are. But it is hardly fair to your family for you to act like this."

"What do you know about fair, Elizabeth?" Alexandria replied. "Ever so well-adjusted, with your lovely fiancé and your wonderful life? Just what do you know?"

"More than you think," Elizabeth began gingerly, still unsure just how much of her own past she wished to share, to say nothing of her present. "Much more than you think indeed. Be that as it may, though, Alex, I just want you to know I am here to share your fears with. I know more than you think I do."

A few silent minutes followed, Elizabeth uncrossing and recrossing her legs but otherwise not moving, as she waited and hoped for a break-through. Alexandria looked to be fighting back tears, but she said nothing for the moment. Finally, the wretched girl's lips curled into a smile, and Elizabeth thought for a moment that the first skirmish had been won. "You know, Auntie Elizabeth," she said in a sugary tone, "I know much more than you think as well."

Elizabeth was not alarmed, for she had misinterpreted the wretched girl's remark entirely. "Undoubtedly you do, Alex. Most girls your age do know a great deal more about life than their parents like to believe. There is nothing wrong with that."

"Not about life, Elizabeth," Alexandria said. "What is there to know about life from this godforsaken house? No, I know more about

you

than you think."

Elizabeth let out a nervous chuckle. She had always been so very careful to keep all details of her private life out of the nursery; whatever Alexandria might be insinuating could hardly be anything pertaining to all that. Treading carefully, she made to continue, but was interrupted by the opening of the nursery door.

It was the kitchen maid, coming to collect Elizabeth's teapot and dismiss the children for lunch. As usual, she made her ritual announcement: "Elizabeth, you're free!"

"Thank you," Elizabeth said with her usual grateful smile. But Alexandria did not rise from her seat to follow her brother and sister downstairs, so neither did Elizabeth. Turning back to Alexandria, she chose to plough through the hazardous waters. "If you know more about me than I think, Alex, then you know I do indeed know what you are fearing. And so, if you wish to talk about it, you know I will likely understand."

"Didn't you hear the maid, Elizabeth? She said you're free!" Alexandria looked at Elizabeth and smirked. "You're free, she said. We children all know what she means by that, you know. Aren't you dying for a wee as usual? Why don't you go already?"

Elizabeth smiled through her annoyance and embarrassment, and recalled just in time that she had re-crossed her legs four or five times since joining Alexandria in her corner; of

course

the little brat had figured that out. "That can wait, Alex," she said.