PYTM 1
Prove yourself to me.
A/N have you seen the fabulous art Umeko-Sherlloly (tumblr) has done for a Victorian Sherlolly AU? It's phenomenal. I was inspired from the very first time I saw her work. The anticipation for the Special is killing me, and this story has roared back into my head. I also have to thank the wonderful TheNewJefferson for her patience, support and input. Thank you! Hope you enjoy!
If we are to be inferior to man, it is man who has decided thus and certainly not a woman. Unknown
London, 1895
The cart jostled and tossed about as it pulled to a stop in front of an unassuming grey stone numbered 221 Baker Street in London. The driver hopped down to assist his passenger, a pale young woman, down from the perch on the back of the wagon. The tiny thinG smiled at him as he assisted her and her single valise to the kerb, nodding as he took the few pence she offered and drove off.
The young woman grabbed her carpet bag, and after taking a moment to stare at the stone building in front of her before crossing to use it's off centered knocker. Meer moments passed before an older woman, familiar and dear opened the door.
"Aunt Martha!" The young woman smiled warmly. It felt strange for her to do so she half noted.
"Oh Molly-mine! How are you, dear thing? Come! Come!" Her dearly loved aunt stepped down and hooked her arm around her shoulder pulling her in through the dark door to an equally dark entry way.
"Did you get everything settled once and for all, dear?" Her aunt asked gently.
Molly nodded silently. It had not been an easy morning, leaving her childhood home for the final time. Her father had recently passed and their home and business had needed to be auctioned off to pay past debits.
At the age of twenty-seven, Miss Molly Hopper found herself an old maid, nearly desolate with no income, no home, and no prospects. Thank providence that Aunt Martha had recently convinced her tenant that she need assistance. A life of service it was to be then. It could have been worse, Molly comforted herself. It even worked a bit to cheer her. She was far more fortunate then some others would be in her situation.
"Let's have some tea shall we? Come to the kitchen, just set that bag down here. Archie is still in school and Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson are off to the countryside. They are expected to be gone for a week or more, so it's just us for now. But I don't take tea in the sitting room even so, it just leads to more cleaning after all."
Molly unhooked her dark cloak, carefully hanging it on the rack, her eyes looked curiously at the array of caps that adorned the top of the coat rack, even the funny brown deer stalker her new employer was known for.
She wondered at him a moment. Aunt Martha had told her many amusing stories of the young man she served as housekeeper for. Of a man who went days silent and still as marble and entire evenings playing his violin till the sun rose anew. How he had taken care to ensure that her awful uncle met the gallows and how he would often nip her Aunts delicious mince pies like a naughty boy. Of experiments and sciences, and botany and bees. That he allowed her aunt to raise her grandson Archie, after the loss of his parents, was an unexpected warmth after all the wild behaviors she'd heard about made her greatly curious about the man.
In truth, he sounded utterly fascinating.
Molly smiled and wondered if he was true to the sketch that the papers ran of him. Aunt described him as handsome, but noted that she had never seen him show any interest in the fairer sex. Then she'd smile in a knowing way and say how the only one he spent much time with was John Watson. Molly never understood quite what the woman meant, but would nod in agreement. She supposed she'd have the opportunity to draw her own conclusions upon meeting the two gentleman herself. And to see if he was as tall and angular and cold looking as his associate was shown to be jovial and kind looking.
Pulling off her bonnet, Molly glanced at the mirror in the entry. She smoothed the hairs that stood up and looked over her own appearance. There she stood, small, pale and unsmiling. No great beauty, but she had straight teeth and clear complexion. She would do well as an invisible maid with her plain features. This thought failed to give her any comfort at all.
"Everything's laid out, are you coming?" Came a voice down the hall.
"Yes, Aunt." Molly followed the sound of the voice till she reached a light filled kitchen, settling herself at the small table where the cups set. When the kettle rang out Aunt Martha brought it over and wait down.
"I'm afraid you will soon have to call me Mrs. Hudson, my dear. It wouldn't do to forget and call me that with others about. "
"Others being guests or the master of the house?" Feeling a tingle of worry.
Patting her hand, Aunt Martha calmed her. "Oh no worries. More the propriety of running the home than of avoiding connections. As landlady and the housekeeper, I am Mrs. Hudson and you shall simply be called Molly. When you are away you may use your title as Miss. Hooper, if you so wish."
Plain Molly. No need to be singled out for her name and connection to her father. Molly couldn't decide if the thought brought comfort or made her grieve the beloved man all the more.
"Anything else I need to know?" The younger woman asked, sipping her tea.
Smiling kindly, Aunt set a fresh scone and clotted cream on her plate. "The front entrance is only to be used by visitors and the tenants. You and I, Archie and Billy, our man of all work, use the rear entrance. Our things stay at that entrance not the vestibule. We have the kitchen and the small room you see there to work on this floor. I have recently renegotiated the lease so that I may have the small chamber on this floor to sleep, and you are to have my old room below stairs. Billy has a room there as well, but stays with his family unless Sherlock needs him to stay for a particular reason. Archie has his same room behind the kitchen as well. "
Alone. She'd be all alone downstairs, not that the promise of 'Billy' as company seemed at all appealing. How strange this new life would be! How she longed to return back to her former home and life. But that was not possible. Those days had passed.
"Scone for your thoughts?" Aunt Martha asked softly, shaking Molly from her unhappy thoughts. Oh! She was crying, she hadn't meant to do that. Blast!
"Oh me! I'm fine. I promise you I am, I just... I never expected I'd be here, in this position." Struggling up and wiping off the tears. Her host stood as well and pulled her into a hug.
"Never fear, you are fine. Grief takes time to heal from, but you will feel better soon. Your father was a good, good man and you did what you could, my child. And look how fortunate we are to get to be together!" The soothing words and hug calmed Molly a good bit.
Wiping her cheeks her aunt asked. "Now, would you like to see the room?"
Nodding, Molly went to retrieve her bag, containing the only possessions she had left to her name, to see her new room. The small back stair lead round to another hall and a series of small rooms.
"The bath and toilet closet are in here, the wash is done in this room with the fire place. There's also a pantry just through there and Billy's room is on the other side of yours." Aunt Martha stopped by the door and pulled a heavy key ring from her apron pocket, unlocking the door before her. "Here it is! A bit shabby but not too bad I must say." The door came open to reveal a small, but well lit very serviceable room. Each wall had a lovely large floral wallpaper on a jade green background. The bed was large and covered by a plain but high quality white coverlet. It was bare, but with a little brightening would be lovely.
"It will suit me well." Molly assured, speaking as much to herself as to her aunt.
"Well, I shall let you settle in. I'll be up stairs working on a small supper for us." Aunt Martha moved to walk out but turned back, "I'm so glad you've come dear. It may not have been your first choice to be in service, but I do believe you might do well here with us," with a warm smile she closed the door.
Once alone, Molly looked about the sparse space. She walked to the chair where her valise lay. Undoing the buckle, she lifted the top before pulling out the meager contents, a black work dress, suitable for her mourning and work and a slightly finer navy dress trimmed in black. Unrolling the dresses, she took out the precious contents wrapped inside. With hesitant and gentle hands, she lifted out the photo taken on her parents wedding day before placing it on the side table. Their youthful faces put Molly to ease as they stared up at her. Turning back, she removing her hand mirror (that once belonged to her mother as well) as well as her toothbrush and tooth powder that were tucked into her night clothes and spare undergarments.
After putting away her few clothes, Molly next pulled out the few books she had been able to save. A copy of Pride and Prejudice that belonged to her mother and her father's note filled Grey's Anatomy volume. Those she placed beside the photograph on the table as well.
And with that she was done. It took no more than three minutes for Molly to get situated with all the belongings she owned in the world. When she realized this she thought back to the warm full home that she had shared with her father just months before. True, they had never been truly wealthy but they had been comfortable.
And now that was all gone, just like her mother and father. And now Molly Hooper was living with her aunt and employed as a maid. She was fortunate she knew, to have this opportunity. Many girls in her position were not so fortunate and would have a very different opportunity to support themselves. One that made Molly's stomach churn and sent shivers of terror down her limbs. It brought back memories that she wished she could simply banish of cold eyes and a mocking face and of feeling used and worthless.
Thankfully, a knock sounded at the door as it popped open enough for a dark curly haired head to pop in. "Molly?"
"Archie! Oh do come in!" Grateful to have her young cousin as a distraction, Molly welcomed him in warmly.
"All settled in then, Molly?" The boy grinned. "I picked these for you. To give you a proper welcome to Baker Street." The boy pulled a hidden small bouquet of Lazy Susan's and daisies.
"How lovely! Just the thing I needed to brighten the room. I shall see if your Gran has a vase I may borrow. I'm all set in here anyways."
"Oh. Um...Alright. Let's go." The boy bounded out the door and up the stairwell into the kitchen where Molly heard him call out to Aunt as he rushed through. "I'm off to pick up the books, Gran. I'll be home for supper." He said as he disappeared through the houses back door.
"Archie!" Mrs. Hudson called out. "You are in serious trouble! There'll be no pudding with supper tonight young man." Turning back to see Molly, she gave an exasperated sigh. "Between that boy, and the masters of the house I shall lose all my sense and reason, Molly."
"What's the matter?" Molly consoled. Archie couldn't have been home five minutes. He couldn't have gotten into much trouble in that amount of time. Could he?
"Those flowers. He'll have picked them from Mrs. Bardsley's garden again that naughty, naughty boy!" She exclaimed.
"You mean to say that he... Stole them? For me?" Molly worried.
"You see! That is exactly the type of behavior he's learned from Mr. Holmes. Oh, that man and I will have words on his return." The woman bustled about pulling one vase after the other. All were too large for the small, illicitly obtained arrangement. Finally, she pulled out a wide mouthed glass with an even wider base.
"Is that an Erlenmeyer flask?" Molly asked, surprised to see it among her aunts collection.
"Oh, how would I even begin to know, child." Mrs. Hudson chided. "He brings such strange things here. All sorts of equipment for his wild experiments- don't even get me started on what he finds to experiment on!" She looked half ready to tell, but must have thought better of it.
Once some water had been pumped into the glass, Aunt turned to hand it to Molly who then began arranging the contraband flowers while her murmuring Aunt began chopping vegetables to stew. Her words going on and on about the dangers of handsome men with no respect for rules and how it seemed to be her lot in life to be surrounded by them.
Molly half listened as she became familiar with the contents of the kitchen, taking stock of which herbs and seasoning were available and which pans where kept where. It was a terribly modern kitchen, well kept by her aunt and amply supplied with all sorts of equipment and seasoning. "You run a fine kitchen, Aunt."
"Oh, if only those men would allow me to do some actual preparing! No, Molly, I'm afraid they prefer small and quick meals. It makes me feel as if I run a cafe they eat so speedily. Or not at all, in Mr. Holmes case. Doctor Watson, now he adores his sweets. Do you still enjoy baking Molly? Both of them are sticklers for biscuits with their tea."
"Oh, I've never baked all that much of late, but I would like to learn. I can do a simple shortbread, that was father's favorite. Oh, and I do thumbprint cookies."
"Those would make them happy. Sherlock prefers a chocolate one, but will only complain mildly at those two options. Between us we may actually have a surplus. Assuming we can keep them away from Archie. And ourselves too, of course." She laughed, and Molly smiled warmly in return.
"It sounds like I have much to learn about your young tenants."
"They are unusual in their schedules and habits." Nodding, Mrs. Hudson went back to her stew preparations. "But they are a lot of fun. Makes me feel like a young girl again being part of their adventures. Although, I have to have a word with Doctor Watson about how he references me! My goodness you'd think all I do show people the stairs room and make their breakfasts." She tsked. "Oh, and remind me to tell him how awful the place looks in the illustrations. Positively dingy! And you know as well as I that 221 B Baker Street is in fine tip-top shape."
Slamming the lid on the pot, Mrs. Hudson turned to Molly. "Strong words indeed!"
"Now then," she spoke, removing her apron. "Let's give you the grand tour."
Taking Molly room to room, Mrs. Hudson showed her the house top to bottom. In each room she explained what duties needs to be performed daily and weekly and the variances from when the men were home versus away. Dusting, washing, cleaning, along with cooking, mending and whatever else would come up during the day. Molly's head was nearly spinning by the end at the prospect.
All that, in addition to keeping up with Archie. No wonder her Aunt needed her help to do everything with an aching hip.
Next, they discussed wardrobe options. Mrs. Hudson pulled out several older work dresses that would need to be hemmed along with crisp white aprons and caps. A classic maid's uniform, she noted. They discussed whether Molly had the proper necessary undergarments and shoes for labour before they made plans to purchase a new set of half stays and new work boots for Molly. She had not even begun to work and would need to spend her entire pay check.
Archie returned home from his 'errand' and the three sat down at the small kitchen table for the delicious stew. Following dinner, they settled into the small parlor to read. The fiction collection that Aunt had was small and focused more on youthful romance ( a subject that she dearly wished to avoid at present time) so Molly instead perused an ancient cookbook for biscuit recipes to attempt over the coming days. When Archie began yawning over his drawing board, Aunt announced it was time to retire.
Molly received a tight hug from young Archie around her hips before the lad darted off, leaving his Gran to lower lights before then turning to give Molly a candle and a good long hug of welcome. "I'm so glad you are here. I worried so for you, all alone as you were." She pulled back before patting Molly's cheek tenderly. "But we'll not talk of the past. You are here with family and we are happy to have you, Molly dear." She placed a kiss on her forehead, the like Molly had not experienced in many a years. "Goodnight then, love."
It took Molly a moment to settle her racing, aching heart before making her way down the stairs. How strange to be alone in this new house! She pulled off the day dress she wore, taking care to brush it and hang it on its new peg. Sitting in her lone chair, she pulled the pins from her hair and drew her fingers through it, delighting in the way the free flowing tress felt after a long day piled on her head. She stood to remove her stays when suddenly the door slammed open and a tall dark man with flashing light eyes burst in.
"Who are you, and what the devil are you doing naked in my house, madam?"