


Shouldn't Feel This Way

by famouscliche



Category: Upstairs Downstairs
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2013-06-07 05:30:40
Rating: M
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,317
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8085298/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1118894/famouscliche
Summary: One year after Persie's death, Blanche has a new life, & Agnes is finally ready to move forward with her life.





	1. Chapter 1

My first attempt at an UD story.  
They'd never let me own anything anyway.  
Blanche x Agnes pairing.  
Don't like it, don't read it (:  
Otherwise, enjoy! xo

* * *

It wasn't cold in her bedroom, but a chill travelled down her spine. Perhaps it was out of the ordinary to be htinking of her nephew at that particular hour, but she couldn't help it. It had been nearly a year since Hallam Holland thre his dear aunt Blanch Mottershead out of 165 Eaton Place, leaving her wondering where she was going to go next. Would she be able to keep relocating Jewish children to good, honest homes or schools? Would her job at the museum be compromised more than it already had been, thanks to the unsightly novel written about her private life? Would Hallam ever talk to her again? And how about Agnes?

They had grown to be close friends over the time that Blanche had stayed in the Holland household, but they hadn't spoken ever since Blanche left her temporary residence. Agnes had begged her not to go, but she had to pack her bags. Hallam would not allow her to say after she told him that he didn't love his wife. How could he when he carried on an affair with her sister behind her back? Hallam was furious and threw her out, and she wasn't sure if Agnes ever found out the real reason why she left. Blanche said it was because of the volunteer work she was doing, and it was, partially, but it was Hallam that ultimately made her go.

She did keep in touch with Mr. Armanjit, because he had fought so hard to help the children who could and would fall victim to the war if they weren't taken from their families, but it had been a few weeks now. It was growing more and more difficult to rescue children because of the, and although it killed her to try to ignore it, she threw herself into her job, and into her newly aquired life. Both had been busy, but somehow she had been managing with eloquence.

With a tug at her light blanket, she nearly scowled at her body. She knew that if she covered up, even with the thinnest material on this hot summer night, she would wake up soaking in sweat. Surely, that would mean she would have to bathe and rinse her hair as soon as the sun rose the next morning. She hated washing herself in the morning because she was always so tired from the lack of sleep the night before.

The archeologist tossed her sheet off immediately, and found herself getting up out of her bed and walking down to the kitchen for a glass of water. Unlike Hallam and Agnes, she had a household consisting of only two servants, but she wouldn't even think of waking one up just for a silly cup to help her back to bed. Just making her way downstairs would clear her head, she thought to herself as she began down the stairs.

But the water didn't help, and neither did the voyage to or from the kitchen. Blanche found herself back in bed, unable to let the thought of her family go that evening. She had already switched positions in her lonely bed at least a dozen times before she heard a cry echo into her room faintly.

Finally, she thought to herself, an excuse to leave her bed again. She knew sleep wasn't coming to her that evening, and she had to do something to clear her mind of the troublesome thoughts that crept in and nestled next to her in bed. She kicked off the suffocating covers that once again covered her body, leaving her semi-comfortable element behind with those wretched Holland estate memories.

"Oh, Dr. Blanche, I'm sorry if she woke you... can I help you back to bed?" the young woman asked as soon as Blanche appeared in the doorway of the room a few doors down from her own bedroom.

Shaking her head, the doctor held out her hands, walking over to the woman, asking, "Hand her to me, please? I need to hold her for a bit."

"Of course, doctor," the young woman, Charlotte smiled, passing the baby, swaddled in a blanket, to the woman holding her arms out, wanting to feel close to the infant. Gently, Blanche cradled the small child in her arms, hushing her cries as she rocked the baby back and forth.

Little Sheridan Mottershead was found in an abandoned building by Blanche, just months ago. Her mother died seemingly after birthing the child in the building, and Blanch heard the child crying. The woman assumed she had been left alone for about a day with no nurishment or heat. Immediately, Blanche felt her maternal instincts flare up as she took the infant into her arms for the first time. She somehow managed to get her own coat off to wrap the baby in it, and then ran to make a bottle out of anything she had with her.

Blanche named the little girl after her childhood governess, whom had beeded women herself, and also gave Blanche her first kiss when she was sixteen. By then, Mr. Armanjit had already tried to get Blanche to give the baby to a home, but Blanche had already agreed to be her mother in her heart. She had no choice - she had to raise the child as her own.

Despite her less than ideal lifestyle, she always wanted a child of her own. She thought that she would raise Portia's children with her one day, but those dreams burned up quicker than the notes she continuously sent her over the years. Blanche wanted so badly to give Jewish children good homes, but it helped keep her mind off of the lack of her own offspring.

Now, though, in her nursery, holding her little Sheridan close to her heart, she felt comforted. She felt that she had finally pieced together a part of her life. Last time she felt that way, she was lying next to Portia.

Blanche didn't even have time to sigh at the memories that continuously haunted her that night, before she heard before she heard a frantic pounding on her door. She looked over at her nanny, who quickly rushed out of the room to attend to the noise coming from downstairs.

"Ma'am?" Blanche heard Charlotte almost ask, making it obvious to the doctor that she didn't recognize whomever stood at the door at this ridiculous hour.

"I'm so sorry... this isn't Dr. Mottershead's residence? Blanche Mottershead?"

"It is, ma'am," she continued before asking, "Who should I tell her is here?"

Blanche already recognized the woman's voice, though, and was making her way downstairs quickly. She wondered briefly if this was some sort of dream, or perhaps just a strange coincidence, but either way, the timing was too strange. "Agnes?"


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, thank you so much for the reviews!  
I hope you all enjoy this chapter, as well!

* * *

"Blanche?" Agnes smiled, relieved to see her friend standing on the staircase. "I'm sorry about just barging in so late... or rather, so early this morning."

Blanche shook it off, passing Sheridan to Charlotte, moving to hug Agnes. Clearly, it was raining out as the younger woman was soaking wet, as she leaned into Blanche's embrace.

"I have to be a little curious about timing... tell me there hasn't been crisis, Agnes."

"Oh, I long to, Blanche, but I can't..."

With apparent disappointment, Blanche sighed. She knew how much Agnes had been through already and it made her upset. Hallam and Persie's affair came out, Persie died, Mrs. Buck died not too long afterward, and then Blanche, herself, left the house. The poor woman standing before her had only her children and housemates when the archeologist took off.

Blanche looked at Agnes softly before saying, "Charlotte, put the baby back to bed and fetch me a blanket for me friend? Wake Elisa and tell her to put on a pot of tea, too, please," she nodded before the servant ran off. "Tell me what's happening. How ever did you find me?"

Blushing, guilt consumed poor Agnes as she weakly admitted, "I thumbed through Mr. Armanjit's belongings, but I needed you, Blanche! You're all that I have left," she cried as gentle tears formed in her eyes, threatning to spill over at any moment.

Blanche placed her hand on Agnes's shoulder gently. She lead the woman to sit down on the couch near the entrance before Agnes quickly exclaimed, "Wait! The children are in the car still! Would you mind terribly if they came inside?"

"No, no... let's go get them. They can share Sheridan's nursery; Charlotte can go back to her room in the meantime."

"Oh, no, I'm afraid I'm intruding. I didn't realize you had company or I wouldn't have come," Agnes said quickly, moving her hands to put space between them as she backed up, now blushing even harder than before.

"Agnes, I don't have company. Come... let's go fetch the children," Blanche insited, moving to go back to the front door.

"Then who is the child? Sheridan, you said her name was?"

"I'll explain when we've gotten your children inside," the doctor said, before grabbing hold of an umbrella and offering another to her friend.

Hector and Veronica were resting peacefully against each other, before each woman took a sleeping child, taking them inside together. Bed arrangements were made, and Blanche offered Agnes to sit and talk with her in Blanche's bedroom over freshly made tea.

"First things first, Blanche, I do not wish to intrude on your life. If you ask us to go, we will. I don't want you to feel as though we're invading your privacy."

"Don't be silly, Agnes!" the older woman sipped her tea. "I insit you stay here as long as you like. It'll be nice to have the company."

Agnes gave her a small smile. "Tell me about Sheridan?"

Blanche smiled. "Well, I took her in, and I'm going to raise her as my own child. I couldn't give her to someone else, to another home. I just couldn't bear it. I love her as if she grew in my womb for nine months, Agnes."

The brunette touched her friend's hand with a smile. "I wish I had know I could've brought a gift along with me."

"You don't have to bring a gift, Agnes. Your presence is quite perfect enough," she gave the woman a genuine grin. She couldn't have been happier to see Agnes that night.

"But you were so wonderful when I had Veronica, and of course I want to get something for your child. This isn't something that happens everyday, dear."

"No, but you were ill when you brought little Veronica home. I just wanted to help."

Agnes watched the stillness of her lap for a moment as silence passed over the women. "I'm certain the children missed you when you left... I missed you when you left."

"How do you know?"

"Hector still asks about you. Veronica can't be soothed unless she's wrapped in a shall you left behind. It's strange, because before she could even walk, Euince and I were at a loss when we tried to calm her."

"She found my shall?"

"And then fell asleep in the closet with it. We thought she'd gotten outside for an hour!" Agnes giggled. When it happened, she thought that she might die of fear over losing her child, but loking back on the memory, she found it to be quite amusing.

"Oh, Agnes... I'm so sorry I left without warning or without an explanation. I... I simply couldn't handle war victims refusing my help because of my sexuality," Blanche explained, shaking her head slightly, puposefully leaving out the fight that she had with her nephew before she left.

The younger woman's lip began to tremble, and soon she lunged forward and hugged her friend tightly. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"It's quite alright... I'm used to it, but surely I didn't imagine that during wartime, there would still be that sort of scorn toward me."

Agnes's eyes met Blanche's and they locked in an unbreakable stare. The woman who had been travelling that evening found her breath beginning to quicken, and she began to feel that familiar ache in her core. She reached up and let her fingertips linger on the lips in front of her. She traced the soft outline before finally pulling away, as she realized just what she was doing.

"I... I guess I'd better get to bed..." she said nervously, looking at her cup of tea which was immediately much more interesting than anything else going on around her.

"Yeah..." Blanche agreed, watching her carefully. She felt her heart beat speed up in those moments, too, and then moved to stand up. "Good night."

"Good night, Blanche," Agnes said as she longingly glanced back at the other woman before disappearing out of her room, leaving Blanche wondering what had just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

I read somewhere about confusion in toddlers when parents were going through a divorce & thought it might be interesting. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The next morning, Blanche awoke to a loud squeal of delight. Startled, she shot up in bed and looked around to find the source of the noise. She spotted the little boy hurdling toward her, and she smiled as he cried out again.

"Aunt Blanche! You came back!"

With a tug at her heart, Blanche hugged Hector tightly before saying, "Good morning, little darling! You've gotten so big! Did you sleep well last night?"

The boy nodded but before he had a chance to say anything else, Charlotte rushed in, looking ashamed when she saw the boy in Blanche's bed. "I'm so sorry, Miss Blanche, I was attending to little Sheridan when Hector took off."

"I heard your name, Aunt Blanche, and I knew you came home! And you brought a baby with you! But where is Eunice? Where's Beryl?" the little boy looked up at Blanche wide-eyed. He had the same beautiful eyes that his mother had, and they were just as brown. He was the perfect young man.

Blanche took Hector's hands before telling him, "This is my house... your mother came to visit me and she brought you with her."

"Oh. For a while?"

Blanche shrugged. "I don't know, darling. Why don't you go with Miss Charlotte while I make myself presentable."

Hector did as he was told before Charlotte said, "Miss Blanche, Veronica got out of bed much earlier this morning and his hiding in the house. Lady Agnes knows, but she said not to worry... it seems to happen all of the time. I thought you'd like to know, though," the young woman said before leaving the room.

Blanche smiled to herself as she laid back down in her warm bed. She closed her eyes, but as soon as she began to fall asleep again, she felt something against her back and she jumped before looking behind her. There, little Veronica was, fast asleep, and Blanche smiled as the toddler snuggled closer.

"Hello little girl," Blanche said softly, rolling over to face her.

The little brunette shyly smiled, cuddling closer to the adult. "Mama..." she yawned softly, as her eyes fluttered shut and then reopened.

"Your mama's in the other room, sweet girl. Shall we go find her?"

Veronica closed her eyes again and continued to lay silently next to her old pal. Blanche smiled to herself and rubbed the baby's back until they were both asleep again.

When Blanche woke up again, almost thirty minutes later, Veronica was still cradled beside her, and Blanche began to get up. She knew Agnes was probably beginning to worry about her daughter, so she picked the child up.

"Mama..." she said sleepily, laying her head on Blanche's shoulder. She was probably tired from the travelling that she had done the night before, and Blanche sighed to herself, wondering if maybe she should have let the little girl continue to rest.

"Yes, we're going to find her, love," the woman assured the toddler, leaving her bedroom. She went to the nursery where Hector, Sheridan, and Charlotte were supposed to be, and found Agnes, too. She was rocking the baby, and Hector was watching with a smile.

"Mummy!" Veronica smiled, waving to the woman in the rocking chair. Agnes looked up and let out a sigh of relief that she wasn't aware she was holding in.

"Oh, I see our mischievious young lady has been wrangled. Where were you, Veronica?" Agnes questioned, not raising her voice, but not exactly thrilled, either.

"Mama," she answered, not moving from Blanche's arms.

"Veronica, use your words, darling."

"I found her tucked into my bed," Blanche responded for the toddler who refused to speak to her mother. "It's quite alright, I'm sure she just wanted a bedmate."

"Sheridan's quite precious... she's beautiful, Blanche," Agnes said, letting the subject go. She didn't know what to expect from her two year old besides that sort of behavior.

"I agree... she's going to be a lovely child. Her eyes remind me of-" Blanche stopped suddenly, realizing what she was about to say. She didn't want to bring up any painful memories for Agnes.

"You can say it, Blanche. Her eyes remind me of Persie's, too... there's no evil floating around in my daughter's pupils, though," Agnes said snidely. She knew she shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but Persie had destroyed her life with her wrecklessness.

Blanche gave her a sympathetic smile. "Have you eaten?"

"No... I wanted to make sure the children were alright, even though Miss Mischief took off again."

The older woman grinned and tried to let the child down, but Veronica held onto Blanche with a death grip. For being such a little girl, she sure had a lot of strength.

"Mama!"

Blanche looked at Agnes, who pursed her lips. "Veronica, darling, what's my name?" Agnes asked, looking at her daughter carefully.

"Mummy," the little girl told her, meeting her mother's eyes with a big grin.

"And who's holding you?"

"Mama!"

Blanche looked down at Veronica and raised her eyebrows. "Oh, sweet child, I think you're a bit confused..."

"That's aunt Blanche!" Hector cried to his sister, causing Sheridan to nearly wake from the noise. He was little, too, but he had quite the pair of lungs. He certainly did not have his mother's soft-spoken voice.

"Mama!" Veronica yelled at her brother before she looked at Blanche. She cupped her face with her small hands and nodded at the woman. "Mama."

"Veronica, I am your aunt Blanche," the woman tried to reason with her niece. Veronica certainly couldn't understand everything that was going on, but she seemed to have it in her head that Blanche was her other mother. Neither woman really knew where she got that idea from.

"No!" Veronica cried, climbing down from Blanche angrily. She stomped to the closet and sat down inside as Hector went to sit near her, wanting to taunt his sister just a little bit more.

Agnes shook her head at the entire charade. "I believe this whole mess between Hallam and me has her confused. I'm sorry, Blanche."

"It's quite alright. I should go see what's for breakfast. The children might like to dine with us this morning."

Agnes nodded. "Alright... I'm going to try to talk to Veronica and sort this whole situation out."

Breakfast remained awkward as the scene in the nursery, and unfortunately, the rest of the day, carried on the same way. Veronica was an absolute terror throughout the bleak day, yelling at anyone who tried to talk to her besides Blanche. Meanwhile, Hector was running around antagonizing his sister, causing her to act out even more. Blanche and Agnes had Charlotte take the children before dinner because they were going absolutely insane, but did not want to give them up before dinner because neither of them wanted to have the inevitable conversation that lingered, entangled in the subtle tension between them.


	4. Chapter 4

That conversation had to come at some point, though, so after she was finished with her meal, Blanche looked at Agnes, waiting a moment before she found the voice she needed to ask the simple question.

"Agnes, would you care to join me for tea?"

"I'd care to join you, but I'm not thirsty," the woman looked up as their eyes met in a gaze.

"Alright, let me grab a cup of tea from Elisa and I'll be right up."

Agnes nodded and made her way to Blanche's room. She disrobed from her overcoat and skirt, leaving her in a simple cotton shirt and a petite pair of Caspar's stockings. Her garter belt rested gently against her midsection, and Agnes wondered if she should put her coat back on so that she could retrieve her bath robe from her room.

Figuring she had enough time, she left to do so and made it back before Blanche did. As soon as the sigh of relief left her mouth, though, the doctor entered the room and briefly stopped in her tracks, noticing Agnes's attire.

"I hope you realize I allowed you your own room for a reason."

Agnes grinned. She had been nervous before, but she didn't want to feel awkward. She didn't want to have a conversation that she knew would kill her, either. "You wouldn't like a bedmate, then?" she played on the comment Blanche made earlier that day about Veronica.

"Oh, on the contrary, I'd quite like a bedmate. I'm afraid she wouldn't be doing much sleeping, though, dear."

"You should know I don't tire very easily then."

Agnes wasn't sure what had come over her, but seh felt more alive in that moment than she had in the past six months. She wasn't sure if it was because she was avoiding really delving into her feelings or if it was because she had an extra glass of wine with dinner, but she felt like a playful child.

"Agnes, you're playing a very dangerous game."

"I don't care, Blanche. I've been playing by the rules my entire life and look where it's gotten me. I'm a single mother who's former husband cheated on me with my own sister! I'm tired of playing it safe and being a good girl. I'm attracted to you, Blanche. I've had my eye on you since you entered my home. I shrugged it off as admiration and idolization, but when you left, I knew I felt more. I know that I was using Caspar to put my mind at ease, but I didn't want him like I want you. I crave your touch, I get shivers when you speak, and the way my children love you makes my heart ache with desire. I realy want you, Blanche, and I've rationalized it to death, but it doesn't matter. I still want you, and only you."

Blanche stayed silent for a moment. "I... I can't. How do I know we won't end the way Portia and I did? How should I know you even really want me and you're not just lonely? You've been through so much, Agnes. I wouldn't be upset if you really just needed comfort. I understand that feeling completely, if we're being honest."

Agnes touched Blanche's shoulders roughly. "How could you even imagine that? Of course I wouldn't use you like Portia did, Blanche. The way she treated you was reprehensible. I feel ill just thinking about it. Do you really take me for being that cruel?"

Blanche could hear the anger in Agnes' voice, but she could also hear the desperation. She sighed, shaking her head, before lowering her eyes. "No..."

Agnes tipped her head up with delicate fingers. She kept the woman's gaze for a few moments, trying to understand what was happening under that beautiful mess of curls. That's when Agnes saw it - the dear, the anguish, and the hurt. The same fear, anguish, and hurt that Agnes had been internalizing until now. In a flash, Agnes had moved her hands from grasping Blanche's shoulders to cupping her neck. She pressed her quivering lips to the archaeologist's, trying to ease not only Blanche's mind of her troubles, but also her own.

Agnes' lips had a weakening affect on Blanche, who found her own hands travelling into Agnes' hair. She found herself deepening the kiss, and soon both women had to break for air.

"You liked that."

It wasn't a questoin, but a statement. A true statement at that. Blanche finally opened her eyes and met the woman's gaze. "So?"

"So, kiss me again."

Blanche wanted to protest. She really did. She just couldn't. Her lips covered Agnes' again, hungrily. She could've feasted on Agnes' incredible mouth all day. Her lips the ou d'voirs, her tongue the main course, and her lingering taste, the delicious dessert. Blanche's lips immediately swelled with sensitivity and desire, and she needed more.

Agnes was absolutely lost in the passionate gesture. She felt Blanche's hands on her waist, and she found her own hands untying the robe wrapped her. She felt her hands slide down, resting on Blanche's before she began to lead them upward to her chest, separated by a silk garment, keeping her intimate lady lumps confined.

"Mmm..." Agnes moaned into the kiss as she pressed Blanche's hands against her aching curves.

Blanche's eyes opened wide when she realized where Agnes placed her hands, but Agnes's submissive groan let her enjoy the excitement she felt. She gently squeezed the mounds of flesh covered in the silky fabric as Agnes broke the kiss, tipping her head back in ecstacy as she moaned at Blanche's touch.

"Take it off," Agnes cried, biting her lip as Blanche's hands began to explore beneath her robe.

The doctor leaned in and as she snaked her hands around the younger woman's body, creeping under the fabric, she unclipped the confine. She nibbled on Agnes's ear gently, causing her to gasp sharply in surprise. She tipped her head as Blanche began to kiss down the path to Agnes's collarbone where she bit gently at teh woman's soft skin.

"Blanche! Are you mad? You're going to make me explode before my clothes are even off!" Agnes panted.

"Isn't that the point, dear?" Blanche breathed out harshly.

Agnes violently shook the robe off of her body and then began to remove her bra slowly. She allowed Blanche a little show as she subconsciously licked her lips.

"Jesus, Agnes," Blanche nearly lost her breath at the sight of the woman's body. The doctor could tell she'd given birth, as she had two pronounced stretch marks across her mid-section, and her hips were beautifully curved, much like Portia's. "You're beautiful."

Agnes bit her lip nervously as she covered her chest with her hands. "Oh, you don't have to flatter me, darling. I already want to sleep with you."

"I'm not trying to flatter you, Agnes. I'm telling you the truth. You're absolutely breathtaking."

The younger woman sighed, waiting for the inevitable retraction. When it didn't come, Agnes said, "But... I'm no Portia. And I'm certainly no Persie."

Blanche shook her head. "No, you're not..." she cupped Agnes's face before she continued, "Thank God. Portia was controlling and wreckless, and your sister was just plain vile. Your heart is kinder than both of theirs combined, and add your beauty... you're a creation of God himself, love."

Agnes didn't know how to respond, so she pulled Blanche into a harsh kiss, thanking her for her kind words.

"Go on, Blanche. Do what you want with me... take me immediately or send me back to my room, if you so wish. Your words are enough to keep me satisfied for the rest of the evening."

"You're not going anywhere... unless you want to," Blanche told her gently.

"No, I don't want to be anywhere else, Blanche," Agnes said, before slipping her garter belt and panties off, pulling her stockings down with them. She went over to the bed to lay down, and spread her legs before looking at a confused Blanche who wasn't following her to bed. "I'm ready."

"What are you doing?"

Propping her body up with her arms, Agnes said, "I'm ready for us to get intimate now."

"Usually I don't 'get intimate' like that, unless I'm completely sloshed," Blanche teased, continuing to look over at the woman, still uncertain about what Agnes's intentions were. Was she serious or kidding about just laying on the bed, skipping all foreplay that Blanche imagined would occur.

"Women do it differently together then?"

"Sweetheart, heterosexual couples don't normally do it like that."

Agnes's eyes got wide and her mouth fell open a bit as she looked to Blanche. "Are you sure? This is how Hallam has always had me prepare before he entered me."

"You've only ever been with Hallam?"

Agnes nodded, looking away from the redhead, feeling ashamed about the entire situation. Blanche moved to her bed and sat down next to Agnes, gently rubbing her back.

"I can show you how to properly make love if you'd like... you should be pleased, too, Agnes. A man is the only one who enjoys sex that way... he should have made sure you were comfortable, satisfied, and that you felt loved. Please let me show you," Blanche urged, still stroking her back.

Agnes looked to Blanche, still embarrassed by her own naivity, and nodded ever so slightly. "Please, Blanche."

Gently, Blanche leaned down to kiss her back where her hands still remained, and soon, she began making a trail up Agnes's pale skin to the back of her neck. Blanche lingered there, covering her flesh in kisses, and then began sucking and nibbling down Agnes's neck.

"Mmm..." Agnes moaned out, loving the sensation of Blanche's mouth on her delicate skin. She hadn't realized before just how much she wanted and needed the lips and tongue that Blanche offered. She arched her back a little, allowing Blanche easier access to the rest of her body.

Blanche could feel Agnes beginning to beg for more, as she had already been aroused. She moved down to the woman's gentle breasts, tasting the soft flesh before catching Agnes's nipple between her lips. She sucked at the taut skin and caused Agnes to cry out in sheer pleasure, as her hand reached over to play with the other.

Soon, Blanche's mouth was exploring further down and came to a small indent in her belly. She licked lightly, as Agnes giggled a little at the sensation. She lifted Blanche's mouth and planted a kiss on her lips before the older woman continued to wander downward.

The redhead adored Agnes's slender legs and made sure to love on each one equally, teasing her inner thighs a little bit. She liked to kear Agnes panting in response to each butterfly kiss or slight touch.

"Blanche, dear... I'm quite ready for whatever it is you've got planned next, as long as there's no teasing involved."

"Oh, are you?" Blanche smirked at the woman laying before her.

Nodding, Agnes replied, "Absolutely."

Blanche decided that Agnes has been properly introduced to a small amount of foreplay, so she used her tongue to enter the woman and elicited a long gasp, followed by a squeal of delight. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Agnes was grasping at the sheets on the bed, and her back had risen in shock. The experienced woman used her expertise to get Agnes feeling good, between using her fingers and her mouth, and finally, Agnes came.

"Oh, God, Blanche!" she cried out, arching her back, pushing her womanhood closer to Blanche's reach. Blanche knew she wouldn't last long, but she did admire the woman so much that it didn't matter. Next time, she would make it last longer.

"Oh, Jesus!" she said as she collapsed onto the bed, and closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. "That was so incredible, Blanche..."

Blanche, who was smiling at a job well done, made her way up to lay next to Agnes. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"No wonder why you like women so much... Can I return the favor?"

"I want you to rest for now, dear," Blanche told her, stroking her hair slick back out of her face. "We'll talk about how you can make it up to me later," she said seductively, giving her a little wink before kissing her forehead.

Agnes cuddled Blanche tighter, lacing her fingers through the doctor's. She turned in Blanche's arms and asked, "Tell me why you really left, Blanche. After I pleased with you not to leave me alone in that house, you took off without even saying goodbye."

Blanche shifted uncomfortably next to Agnes. "I'm sorry, Agnes. You'll never know how truly sorry I am... but I told you... it all stemmed from the work we were doing; the ridicure was too much to bear."

Agnes's eyes searched Blanche's carefully, as though she saw right through her. "No... that's not it. It might have been hard, but it wasn't enough for you to run away from. To completely cut yourself off from... Blanche. Please, please be honest with me. Tell me why you didn't even call or write after you left, please?" the younger woman practically begged, looking at her new lover gently.

"In the morning, Agnes," Blanche compromised. "Can we please just enjoy tonight together? Happily?"

Letting out a sigh, Agnes turned back over, lying in her warm embrace. "Thank you for tonight, Blanche. It was incredible."


	5. Chapter 5

This is all I have, tell me if I should continue! xo

* * *

Blanche and Agnes ended up awake at an unspeakable hour the next morning. Blanche was up first, but as soon as she stirred, Agnes awoke and cuddled close to her.

"Last night was really nice," Agnes whispered with a yawn.

"It was," Blanche had to smile down at Agnes who had her eyes closed.

"Blanche, will you tell me why you left now, please?" Agnes opened her eyes. "Please? I need to know that it didn't have to do with me."

"Oh, no, sweet girl, it had nothing to do with you."

"So then tell me, please?"

Blanche sighed and began stroking Agnes's hair gently. "I left because of Hallam, Agnes. He blamed me for your marital hardships and told me I'd never find love if I continue to persue this lifestyle," she explained softly.

Agnes looked at her, wide eyed now. "Blanche, you know the problems Hallam and I faced had nothing to do with you, right? You know that?"

"I can't help but think that I caused some of those issues, though, Agnes. I came into your home at a fragile time, and Portia's book came out and you supported me... I didn't leave and surely it strained your relationship."

Agnes sat up in bed. "I don't care, Blanche. Hallam ruined our marriage when he began his extra cirricular activities with my sister."

Blanche sighed, looking up to her now. She still felt terrible about the situation and she supposed that was why it had been bothering her more and more before Agnes and the kids came to visit. She felt incredibly guilty. "Still, I-"

"No! No, Blanche! It wasn't you! Is that why you didn't want me to find you?"

The doctor nodded and Agnes moved to kiss Blanche's temple tenderly. "I'm so sorry, Blanche. I'm so incredibly sorry. He ruined our marriage all on his own. Not you. And knowing that he blamed you? It kills me, Blanche. And I refuse to stand for it anymore."

Immediately, Blanche sat up like Agnes had moments ago, as she watched her new lover climb out of bed. "What are you doing to do, Agnes? You have a terrifying look in your eye."

"I'm going to see my husband... my soon-to-be ex-husband, that is," Agnes said, as she began to get dressed. Blanche wanted so badly to object, but the curves of Agnes's body had her completely captivated and she wasn't sure how to address her concerns.

"You can't, Agnes! What if he finds out you've cheated on him... with a woman! With his bloody aunt, of all women!" Blanche finally found the words inside of her once Agnes had yesterday's outfit on.

Agnes turned to look at Blanche carefully. "It won't matter, love. Once I tell him I'm divorcing him, nothing will matter. I refuse to give up my children, and I shall have to find work to support them, but it doesn't matter! I'll finally live the life I want, not conforming to social expectations or someone else's ideas of what I should do," Agnes smiled, climbing into bed, giving Blanche a kiss on the lips.

"Agnes, please don't go..."

"I'll be back, love. I'll be back before sunset, I promise."

Agnes made the trip to 165 Eaton Place, about an hour away from where Blanche was residing, and found her way inside. Mr. Pritchard was the first to spot her, and greeted her delightlfully when he saw the lady.

"Lady Agnes," he nearly stumbled over his own smile. "Welcome home! Where are the children?"

"Oh, Mr. Pritchard... I have news, but I'm not sure if it's good or bad, really. I'm leaving Hallam, and the children shalln't be seen in this house again."

The man nodded with a half smile. "I'm glad you're leaving him, Lady Agnes," he whispered, leaning into talk to her softly, "but I'll miss you and the children running around."

Agnes embraced the man who delivered her first child tightly. "We'll certainly miss you, too."

"You deserve better, you deserve so much better than Mr. Holland."

"I know, and thank you. Thank you for everything over the years," she smiled before finally letting him go. "I suppose I should go tell Hallam that I'll be taking my things and leaving, because I have to be back before sunset..." she said, before she began to head up the stairs to face her husband.

"Lady Agnes," the butler called after her, "if you ever need anything, you know I'm always here, as well as Mrs. Thackery, Mr. Armanjit, Eunice, Johnny, Beryl, and Spargo. We love you, and we love your children very much. We all think that your kind soul deserves much more than Mr. Holland provided in this house."

Agnes bit her lip with a nod. It meant so much to her that her staff felt that way about her. She knew she had been kind to them, but this meant that they liked much more than her kindness. Surely, they knew about Hallam and Persie before she did, and she was glad that she had their support in leaving the man who cheated on her with her own sister. "Thank you," she managed to say, before turning to ascend up the staircase.

She made her way into her room and silently threw together a suitcase for herself. Then she went to the nursery and did the same for her children. She knew that they were growing quickly and would need new clothing soon, but for now, they would be alright in what she packed up. She grabbed the shawl that Blanche left behind over a year ago, and also packed the first stuffed animal she bought when she found out she was pregnant with Hector.

Then, once she brought the bags downstairs, Mr. Pritchard brought them to the car, and asked Spargo to take Lady Agnes back to her destination when she was ready.

Meanwhile, Agnes entered Hallam's study, and he turned around slightly in his chair.

"Where have you been?"

The words still hurt, even though there were no feelings between them. She hated that she had let Hallam treat her like some pet that he could just pay attention to on his terms, even before he started his affair with her sister. If her children were older, she would be absolutely appalled with herself for letting them see the way he treated her. She was still disgusted by her actions... she wished that she had left him sooner.

"I'm leaving you, Hallam, so you no longer have the right to know where I've been. You lost that right when you decided to have relations with my sister, actually."

"Oh, so now you're mad? A year later?" Hallam asked, shaking his head. Surely, Agnes assumed, Hallam thought this situation was completely pointless, just like he thought everything else about her life was.

"No, Hallam, I've been upset, but I've finally found the courage to leave you. I don't need you, Hallam. I never did... And honestly, the children are fine, so you no longer have to worry about them."

"Agnes, you can leave me, but don't you dare threaten to take my children away from me. That is one thing I will not stand for."

"Oh, but I was supposed to stand by and let you cheat on me? With Persie? Was I supposed to pretend to be your perfect wife for the past year, even though I spent every night sleeping in the nursery with the children you never saw? That you never paid attention to? The same children who asked me everyday where Aunt Blanche was? Aunt Blanche who "wrecked our marriage"? Aunt Blanche who will never be happy because she lives a different lifestyle than you do?"

Hallam pursed his lips. "So you've seen Blanche?"

"That is none of your bloody business," Agnes seethed, leaning over the table. She had let this anger build inside of her and didn't realize how much it affected her until now. She wanted everything that had been bothering her to be out on the table, and she wanted him to hurt the way that she had been hurt by him. "You can expect to recieve the divorce papers within the next month, Hallam. And before I go, I want you to know that this is the happiest I have ever been in my life, and none of it has to do with you."

"You'll be hearing from my lawyer, Agnes. You won't keep my children away from me."

"Oh, yes I will," she said before leaving the office. She quickly left the house and hopped into the car that Spargo was driving. She was glad to see a familiar face, especially one that she knew she could trust with her location.


End file.
