Agnes sat on her empty bed. The journey back to Eaton Place had been silent, and Blanche's whole demeanour had been stiff and aloof. Upon entering the house, she had bolted upstairs, and Agnes hadn't seen her since. Guilt and confusion was eating away at her. Pushing her blankets off, she stood quickly and wrapped her silk robe around her. This would not do. It had to be sorted out.

Blanche was tossing and turning in her own bed. Every time she closed her eyes the feel of Agnes's warm, soft lips would invade her mind, and a jolt of fear and hurt would course through her. Why was this happening to her, again? Thoughts of Portia crowded in on her, and she felt her eyes stinging. Letting go of her former love completely had nearly destroyed her. She knew there could never be a future for them after their last liaison. Portia was more in love with the idea of loving her, and it wasn't enough for Blanche. She hadn't braved years of scorn and revulsion from family and peers, to settle for someone who would just want a part of her at their own convenience. But it still hurt. Portia's girlish passion and outward courage had been irresistible to Blanche. Now, in retrospect, she just felt like a fool.

And now, there was Agnes. Sweet, beautiful Agnes. What was she thinking of? Did the woman not understand that treating Blanche in this manner was the worst thing that she could do? She had believed that they had a friendship based on care and honesty. The tears brimmed over and slid down her cheeks and she turned over again, desperate for sleep to come, just to find some small respite from her own thoughts.

The soft knocking on the door interrupted her musings. She knew full well who was on the other side.

Ignoring it, she pulled the covers up and burrowed into the pillow. She felt, rather than heard Agnes's presence in her room. Her soft floral perfume drifted over her and she felt another tear slide down her face.

"Blanche, please talk to me, I can't bear this." Agnes's soft whisper sounded unnaturally loud in the dark room.

"It's late Agnes, I'm tired, please go away." Her voice cracked on the last word and she heard Agnes's soft footsteps approach the bed just before the bedside light blinked on.

She sat up and covered her eyes, the bright light burning into them. "Agnes, for God's sake, just leave me be will you!"

"No! No, I shan't! I can't bear things being like this between us, can't bear that you think those things of me, that I would…..Oh Blanche, you're crying. Oh, my darling, I'm so sorry."

She moved towards the bed and touched Blanche's face. Jumping back the other woman glared at her, "Not such a rare sight for you Agnes, you've seen me cry before. For similar reasons I believe."

Agnes flinched. "Blanche, you have every right to be angry with me for this afternoon, but you need to let me explain. Please?"

"And why should I?"

Agnes swallowed, "Because I hate that I have hurt you, and I want you to know that it is the last thing I would ever want."

Blanche pondered her for a moment and then nodded slightly. Breathing out Agnes moved forward and perched herself on the edge of the bed. Her hands lay in her lap and she clasped them together tightly until her fingers paled.

"When did you know that you liked women?"

Blanche looked at her sharply. "What? How has that anything to do with this?"

"Please…."Agnes beseeched softly.

Blanche sighed. "I don't know of an exact time. It was more of a gradual awareness. I fought it of course. As I said, my Father was a Bishop. He made it very clear that homosexuals were damned to hell, and should not be allowed to walk on this earth. When I was eighteen he uncovered a relationship I was having with a fellow pupil, a girl. I was beaten within an inch of my life, and banned from the house forever. He sent me to a sanatorium, and then paid for me to study abroad. Of course, the whole thing was kept secret. It was put about in society that I had suffered from a slight breakdown. We never exchanged words again."

As she spoke, Blanche looked down at the blanket, worrying the stitching with her fingers. Upon finishing she looked back up to Agnes, to find her looking at her with tears on her cheeks.

"Blanche", she whispered. "Oh, that was inhuman of him, what a terrible way to treat you." Her hand lifted towards her friend and then fell back.

"Well I am an invert Agnes." She muttered bitterly, new tears forming in her eyes.

Agnes grabbed her hand. "No, Blanche. Please don't use that awful word to describe yourself, there is nothing wrong with you."

Blanche snatched her hand away and retreated further up the bed. "Agnes, please. Just tell me what you came here to say. "

Agnes blinked back her own tears, and started talking rapidly. "What happened today in the museum, I think I may have wanted it to happen for some time. But the way it happened was wrong. I was thoughtless and selfish. But, I am scared Blanche. When Portia hurt you, when she took your love, and gave you hope, and then dashed it, I felt such anger for her. I wondered if she could have ever really loved you, because, if she did, then how could she have ever asked that of you? And I was jealous of you both. Your passion was so all consumingBlanche. Hallam had never been that way with me, nor I with him.

Blanche opened her mouth to speak, "No, please. Let me finish this. Let me say it, or I never shall." Blanche nodded and continued to listen.

"But my thoughts kept coming back to you. I thought about you, and how you loved her. And I felt an aching inside of me. I thought of how fiercely you loved her. And I thought of how it would feel to be loved in that way, by you."

Blanche gasped and lifted her hand to her mouth, but Agnes continued, "Because you understand me, Blanche. You accept who I am, and you don't try to mould me or change me. And you are tender towards my children, and kind and loving to Pamela. You show all of them more affection than Hallam ever has. And I trust you. I trust you. And Blanche, I yearn for you."

Tears were now running freely down both women's faces, and Blanche reached out to grasp Agnes's hand.

"I didn't know", she breathed. "I would never have imagined. But Agnes, you are still Lady Holland, and you are still Hallam's wife. Surely you can see how impossible this is?"

Agnes swiped at her face. "I know, I know, but I want you, all of you. I would never be ashamed of you and I would never hide you away, and I needed you to know that. You are the most wonderful person I have ever met Blanche Mottershead. And I would be proud to have you by my side."

Blanche leaned forward and rested her head against Agnes's. "But darling, it's not that simple, you know that. You would be cast out of society. Could you live with that? Pointed at, judged, hated. Could you do that to your children? Oh Agnes, I couldn't let you."

Agnes reached out and took Blanche's face in both hands. "I can't run from you Blanche. I refuse to. If you help me, I can be brave, I know I can. I have never wanted anyone more than I want you. I want us to make love, here, in your bed. I think I may go mad from wanting you. Please, Blanche, please love me. Show me. I want to feel your skin against mine…"

Lurching forward across the bed, Blanche captured Agnes's lips with a groan and pulled her back against the headboard. "Be very sure about this Agnes, because there is no going back."

Agnes drew back, cupping Blanche's cheek in her hand, "There is no other choice for me. I need you beside me."

Blanche moaned and pushed her gently down to a lying position. Trailing kisses down her neck and sucking softly on her pulse point, she whispered loving words in her ear, "Darling your skin is so sweet, I cannot wait to taste every last inch of it."

Agnes moaned softly, "I want your beautiful mouth all over me, oh Blanche I think I shall burn up from wanting you."

Blanche laughed softly, "Do try and refrain from setting alight, scorch marks on the bed linen are terribly difficult for one to explain away to Mr Pritchard."

The sombre mood broken a little, she grinned slyly and Agnes swatted at her shoulder, "Oh you terrible woman, making fun of me at a time like this."

Blanche smiled and kissed her softly, "Would you have me any other way?"

Agnes arched up kissing her fiercely, "God no", she mumbled against her lips, "You are perfect."