Lady Out of Time

This is the very first story featuring the character Agnes Charnock that I started writing back in 2002.  I post it here as a means of introducing this fantasy woman I created.  My vision for her character, her relationships, and her setting have further developed since that time, and hopefully my simplistic writing has improved as well.  The other two chapters of this story no longer fit my overall concept for Agnes, and thus I will refrain from posting them.  My ideas for the splendid Baroness are of epic scale, and I do not know if or when I will fully realize them in writing.  I offer what I think is a fair representation of her here.

Lady Out of Time

By Cuirbouilli

Sweat beaded on Brian’s forehead. The spiral staircase he was climbing seemed endless.  Brian was amazed at how high the tower was. The tour book said that Guy’s Tower was over 39 meters tall.  It was built sometime in the fourteenth century to improve the fortifications of Warwick Castle.  

Brian was traveling through England and he was spending today in Warwick.  It was the middle of December and he was on winter break from Penn State University where he was a college senior.  Brian’s grandparents lived in London.  As an early college graduation gift, his grandparents bought him plane tickets for a trip to England.  

He flew into Manchester and had almost two weeks to wander around a bit before he would meet with his grandmother and grandfather.  They planned to fly back to Pennsylvania together to spend Christmas with his parents.

Brian intended to travel from town to town without any particular path.  It was easy to find lodgings in a bed-and-breakfast without having reservations.  He had already spent two days in Stratford-upon-Avon.  

To graduate college as an English major he was required to write a senior thesis.  He was writing about Shakespeare.  What better place was there to inspire a paper about the Bard than Stratford-upon-Avon?  The house Shakespeare was born in still stood there, along with Anne Hathaway’s Cottage.  

Brian learned a great deal for his thesis during his visit to Stratford.  While he was there several people recommended that he should stop in Warwick as well.  The town was very ancient and the castle there was one of the best preserved in England.

After a short bus ride northeast of Stratford, he arrived in Warwick that morning.  He was really glad that he made the trip.  Warwick Castle was fantastic!  The medieval atmosphere was very thrilling to him.  Brian had a strong interest in anything medieval or renaissance.  

He spent the early afternoon climbing the battlements of Warwick Castle which turned out to be a bit of a workout.  He didn’t want to miss a single tower!

It was windy and cold, so there were few tourists that day.  His enthusiasm was unaffected by the chill.  He had anticipated the frigid English weather.  He came prepared in a heavy, hooded parka and a warm knit sweater.  Waterproof boots kept his feet dry.  Traveling light, he carried his few belongings with him in a backpack.  

Despite his warm clothes, he had been shivering all morning.  He figured it was from excitement.  Now he was so hot that he broke out in a sweat.

An iron hand rail was fixed to the wall of the spiral staircase he climbed.  Grabbing onto the rail for support, he ascended to the top of he tower.  

He emerged onto the battlement.  The tower was about 8 meters across, surrounded by crenellations that were as tall as a man.  

Only two other people occupied the tower.  A man and a woman faced away from him on the other side.

Brian’s attention focused immediately on the woman.  She was protected from the cold wind by a black leather coat that enclosed her from neck to ankles.  

Brian’s pulse quickened.  A woman dressed in a leather coat had always stirred him.  It was something he could not control.  Even when he was a young boy he recalled being extremely attracted to the rather plain-looking woman who lived next door simply because she wore a long leather coat during the winter.

Brian could tell little about the woman across from him now except that she was obviously thin.  A fancy black hat with plumes and a wide brim covered her head so that he could not see her hair or face.  Her voluminous leather coat gleamed with a pale luster under the cloudy sky.  

The man standing next to her was massive, well over six feet tall with broad shoulders.  He wore an overcoat of gray wool.  The man clutched his hands behind his back and stood silently next to the lady.  As if he sensed Brian’s gaze, the man suddenly looked over his shoulder with a stern expression.

Brian quickly turned away.  

The man and woman were likely married.  He didn’t want to anger the large man by staring at his wife.  

Brian turned his attention to the view from the tower.  He could see for miles around.  To his right the Avon River wound its way through the trees.  The rooftops of the old town were hardly different from how he imagined they appeared hundreds of years ago.  People in the courtyard below looked like ants from the high vantage point.

Brian’s stomach churned.  

Heights did not bother him.  He had not felt quite right all morning and he didn’t seem to be getting any better.  Maybe the greasy English breakfast he ate before leaving Stratford hadn’t settled well with him.  Over the past several hours he had felt more and more bloated.  The discomfort was becoming too bad to ignore.

Being in the presence of the woman in the leather coat didn’t help matters.  His stomach rolled all the more.  As interested as he was in the castle, he now had to make a huge effort to turn his thoughts from the leather lady.  

What did she look like?  

Was she pretty?

“The town really hasn’t changed much since the old days,” a dulcet voice said next to him.

Brian jumped.  

The woman in the leather coat was standing right beside him!

“Time changes many things, but not everything,” she continued with a genteel English accent, gazing at the town below.

“Yeah.  It’s good, I guess, that places like this are preserved to remind us of our past,” Brian managed to stammer, trying to sound intelligent.  

“Oh, but who cares about a bunch of boring stuff that happened six hundred years ago?” the woman responded raising an eyebrow.

“Actually, I think history is kind of cool.  We live in the world that our ancestors built,” Brian answered.

“Really?” the woman responded in a surprisingly interested tone.  

She regarded him intently.  

There was no question now if she was attractive.  Framed within the brim of her hat and the high, stand-up collar of her leather coat, her face was very pretty.  Her alabaster complexion made her delicate features glow.  

Actually pretty was an understatement for her.  The woman was beautiful.

“So you are a student then?” the lady asked.

“Yeah.  I’m an English major in college,” Brian said, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

“And from the States as well,” she continued.  

“How unusual to meet a young person from the US with an appreciation for the past.”  

This comment struck Brian as odd.  He would expect it from a stodgy old college professor, but not this vibrant lady.  

She was clearly a young woman.  She couldn’t be any older than thirty.  She may have even been his age her skin was so smooth.

“You are on holiday?” she prompted him further.

“I’m doing some travelling here in England before I meet my grandparents for Christmas,” Brian said.  

He struggled to keep his eyes from roaming over her leather-coated body.  Her breasts were highlighted in the flowing black leather.  Otherwise, her figure was entirely obscured within the shiny folds of her plush lamb leather coat.   The coat buttoned all the way to her chin.  She kept her hands deep in her coat pockets.  

The woman was so beautiful!

Brian’s stomach cramped more than ever.  Even with his current discomfort, he couldn’t help being aroused by her.

“Have you ever been to England before?” the lady asked.

“No.  I like it so far, though.”

Brian covered his mouth with a fist as he fought the urge to belch.  

He was really not feeling well all of the sudden.  He was exhilarated to be meeting the lovely leather lady and simultaneously feeling extremely ill.

“Are you well?” the woman asked with concern.  

“You look ill.”  

She laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I will be OK.  I think I better get going, though,” Brian said, trying to make little of his symptoms.  

He wanted to talk more with the woman, but he didn’t want to get sick in front of her.  

“It was nice to meet you,” he said glancing at her one last time.

“Are you sure you will be alright?” she called behind him.

He nodded as he turned for the stairway.  

The large man he presumed to be the woman’s husband stood there with his arms folded.  The man scowled at Brian, then stepped out of the way and allowed him to pass.

Brian descended the spiral stairway as quickly as he could manage.  He felt feverish and sick at his stomach.  He became increasingly lightheaded as he went.  He made his way across the lower battlement to the steps leading into the courtyard below.

At the bottom of the stairs he knew he was going to be sick.  

Nauseated, he bent over a row of hedges and vomited forcefully.  He continued to throw up for several moments.  Then the world began to spin and everything went black…

Brian’s head rested on a pillow of smooth butter.  He was lying on his back.  He opened his eyes.  An angel smiled down at him.  Her beautiful blue eyes radiated kindness.  Golden blond hair streamed around her face.  The collar of a leather coat brushed against her chin.

Leather coat?  She was the woman he met on the tower!  She was kneeling and cradling his head in her lap.  He must have lost consciousness after he got sick.  He tried to sit up.  The woman prevented him, cupping his face between her hands.  Black leather gloves encased her slender hands, pressing cool and smooth against his cheeks.

“Be still,” she said softly.  

“Oh, you poor child.  You are ill.  Are you with anyone?”

Brian shook his head.  

“No.  I am by myself.  What happened?”

“You passed out, poor dear.  Do not worry, though.  I will take care of you,” the woman said in a soothing tone.  She brushed his hair with her gloved hand.

At that moment Brian was in heaven.  His head sank into her plush leather coat.  The euphoric relief one feels immediately after vomiting washed over him and mingled with his pleasure from being held by the woman in the leather coat.  Peering up at the beautiful woman tending to him, he honestly couldn’t think of a place he would rather be at that instant.

“What is your name?” she asked him.

“Brian.  Who are you?”

“My name is Agnes Charnock,” she said with a warm smile on her red lips.

“I think I can sit up now,” Brian said after a few moments.  The woman let go of him and he sat upright.  He still felt a bit lightheaded.  He rose to his feet slowly.  His head swam and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead again.  He staggered.

“Oh!  Be careful!” Agnes exclaimed.  She was immediately by his side and wrapped an arm around him for support.

“Thank you.  I’ll be OK,” Brian said.  He was a bit embarrassed to be so helpless that he needed help just to stand.  He was not so ill that he didn’t enjoy having the lovely lady pressing herself against him, though.  Her leather coat creaked as it rubbed on him.

“You have nobody to take care of you.  You must come stay with me until you are well again,” Agnes offered.

“Christ!  Not another one Agnes!  Isn’t he a bit young?” a deep voice boomed.

Brian turned.  The massive fellow with the stern face glared at him.

“Hush, Roger! Can’t you see that he is ill?  We can’t just leave him like this,” Agnes responded giving the man a sharp look.

“No.  He is right.  I will be fine on my own,” Brian said.

“See?  The lad can get along by himself,” the man called Roger agreed.

Brian pulled away from Agnes, determined to stand on his own.  They must have taken his pack off, because it sat next to him on the ground.  Brian reached down for it.  As he started to swing it over his shoulders he became extremely dizzy again.  He stumbled to one side and nearly fell.  Agnes caught him deftly under the shoulder again and steadied him.  Brian was surprised at how strong she was.

“Enough of this nonsense,” she said.  “You are coming home with us until you are better, Brian.  I insist!”  Her voice possessed a commanding tone that made him reluctant to argue.  It was becoming clear as well that he was not in any condition to resist her help.

“I don’t want to impose,“ he argued politely.

“You won’t.  My home is large.  I welcome you as my guest.”  

She looked at Roger who appeared as disgruntled as ever.

“Fetch his pack for him, Roger.  I have made up my mind.  He can’t be left alone.  He is coming home with us.”

Agnes led Brian out of the castle to where her car was parked.  Roger followed behind them, carrying Brian’s backpack in one hand.  Brian started to feel nauseated again by the time they reached her car.  He stepped behind a tree and retched.  It was mostly dry heaves now.  He didn’t want to get sick inside the nice woman’s car if he could prevent it.

After helping him in, Agnes sat in the back seat with him.  Brian knew a little about cars.  He had never seen a car like this one in real life, especially nowadays.  Her car was a vintage Alvis, and quite luxurious.  The woman must have money.  Not only did she have a classy ride, but she even had her own chauffeur to drive it!  At least Brian assumed the man was her chauffeur.  They certainly didn’t act like husband and wife.  She definitely seemed to be in charge.  He did what she said even under protest.  He drove in grim silence, occasionally looking back in the rear-view mirror.

“Poor dear,” Agnes said softly to Brian.  

Tugging a leather glove off, she pressed a cool hand to his forehead.  Her slick leather coat sleeve brushed his face.  The leather cuff had three buttons on it.

“Ah.  You have a fever.  The flu has been spreading around like the plague this year.  For certain, that’s what you have.  Don’t worry.  You will feel better in a day or two.”

“Why don’t we just take him to a hospital, Agnes?” Roger complained, looking over his left shoulder.

“He doesn’t need a hospital.  He just needs somebody to look after him for a few days,” Agnes responded.

She gave Brian a reassuring grin.  

“I will hear no more about this, Roger,” she stated firmly.

“Yes, Agnes,” Roger conceded.

“Pay no mind to my butler.  He is just grumpy today,” she whispered playfully to Brian.

So Roger actually was her butler, not her husband.  Brian had never known anyone wealthy enough to have a butler.  Unfortunately he was too preoccupied with shivering, chills, and nausea at the moment to enjoy the rare opportunity that had presented itself to him.

The kind woman next to him was also one of the most beautiful women he had ever met.  She sat there buttoned up in her shiny leather coat that bunched in voluminous creases about her.  Her leather coat squeaked loudly whenever she shifted in the sumptuous leather car seat.  If he were not so ill, she would have been driving him completely wild.  As it was, he had to concentrate on not throwing up again.  He leaned his head against the car window.

Even if he had all of his faculties about him, Brian could not have retraced the path that they took.  The rode twisted and turned through dense wilderness, now bare for the winter.

“This is the Forest of Arden,” Agnes explained gesturing with a gloved hand.  

“It is one of the great forests of Britain.  Queen Elizabeth I built her navy from its trees to repel the Spanish Armada.”

They turned off the main rode and drove for several more kilometers.  They made many more turns onto roads that were not even marked by signs.  Brian was beginning to feel quite ill again when the one lane road they were on brought them to an ornate iron gate.  Roger aimed a remote control and the gate swung open for them.  It seemed to Brian that they drove for some time through wooded countryside before he saw a house appear through the trees.  A vast eighteenth century mansion rose up before them atop a gently sloping hillside.

The sun was setting as Roger parked in front of the large main door of the mansion.  A pretty young woman in a traditional black-and-white maidservant outfit stood at the door.

Agnes remained seated until Roger opened the car door for her.  Then she stepped elegantly out, her leather coat crunching as she rose.

Brian heard Agnes’ voice as he opened his own door.  “Show my young friend to the guest room, Eleanor.  He is ill.  See to it that he has everything he requires.”

Brian swayed as he climbed from the car.

“Welcome to Thistledown, Brian.  This is my home.  You may stay here as long as you like,” Agnes told him.  

Her leather coat swept behind her as she led the way in.

Eleanor, the maid, greeted him politely and helped steady him on his feet.  She glanced at Roger who was retrieving Brian’s backpack from the trunk of the car.  Brian failed to notice the exhausted expression they shared.

He was led through a couple large rooms and climbed a grand staircase with some effort.  At the end of a long hallway, Eleanor opened a door and ushered him inside.  The room was well furnished.  A very comfortable looking bed was the first thing Brian saw.  The maid helped him remove his parka and boots.  He collapsed into the bed immediately with exhaustion.  Roger sat his backpack on the floor beside the bed.

Agnes entered the room behind them.  She unbuttoned her leather coat.  Roger helped her slip out of the satin-lined coat, and draped it over his arm.  Agnes was dressed in a classy blazer, vest, and white blouse.  She sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hopefully your fever will break tonight.  Try to get some rest.  Eleanor will see to whatever you need.  You have only to ask,” Agnes explained.

“This is really generous of you Miss Charnock.  I don’t know how to repay you,” Brian said.

“You can thank me later.  I will see you tomorrow.  And call me Agnes.”

Brian was unable to keep any food down that night.  He managed to sip small amounts of water to keep his mouth from getting too dry.  Eleanor left a basin on the nightstand next to his bed.  He continued to have dry heaves well into the night.

His sleep was very restless.  He tossed and turned, waking frequently from bizarre dreams.  Many of his dreams involved Agnes in her leather coat.  Images of her sleek leather form flitted through his mind.  A particularly strange dream that he remembered the next day involved William Shakespeare reading a sonnet to Agnes.  Shakespeare was clad in a typical sixteenth century doublet.  Agnes wore a modern leather coat.  She smiled with delight as he recited poetry to her.  When he finished Agnes leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.  Shakespeare vanished instantly in a cloud of dust.  Agnes laughed.  She donned a weird leather mask with a long beak.  The mask covered her entire head and gave her the appearance of a bird.  She started dancing and scattered colorful flower petals as she went.

Then Brian awoke and rolled over.  In the early hours of the morning his fever broke and he drifted into more peaceful slumber.