Enter Henrietta and Mrs. Hudson
It was with a heavy heart that Henrietta Love, known as Hettie to her close companions and confidants as few as they numbered, turned onto Baker Street, her suitcase swinging freely in one gloved hand and a wrinkled piece of parchment clenched tightly in the other. A fine mist had settled over London, casting the sky an unpleasant gray and bleaching the streets below of what little color they naturally possessed, turning the world into a neutral soup of banality. The humidity glued any brown strands which had escaped their severe bun unpleasantly to the young woman's face, and it was with great longing and regret that Hettie watched the hansom cabs jiggle past, their passengers safe from the dew permeating the air.
Shaking her head, Hettie strode resolutely forward, trying to forget the unfortunate circumstances which had led her to make this trip, and stopped in front of a gray building much like every other dwelling perched along the cobbles of Baker Street. Slowly and deliberately she ascended the steps, counting to twelve as she reached the top and ran her fingers lightly over the brass numbers set above the dark wood door, proudly pronouncing the digits 221.
Setting her luggage down, Hettie straightened the wool of her coat and smoothed back her hair in an attempt at appearing presentable before taking the simple knocker with slightly shaking fingers and rapping smartly three times. She waited a moment, before repeating the process and standing back a bit, hoping she had been loud enough. A flutter of maroon fabric drew her eyes to the second floor window, whose curtains were shaking gently as a result of recent disturbance. Frowning, Henrietta found herself too preoccupied to notice the door opening until warm arms were wrapped firmly around her waist.
Shocked at first, Hettie struggled for a moment before melting into the familiar scent of her aunt's floral perfume. She once again dropped her things and returned the older woman's embrace, pleased to find her so invigorated, especially as she had written that she had been feeling rather under the weather as of late. The woman finally leaned back to get a better look at Hettie's face and it was apparent by the rapid movement of her lips that she had been talking the entire time. Hettie flushed a bit at the realization but soon shoved such emotions to the backburner as she focused on her aunt's lips.
"It's so good to see you!" Mrs. Hudson cried, placing her warm, wrinkled hands against the skin of the young woman's face. Hettie smiled and nodded, wiping a tear from her aunt's worn cheek.
"You too Aunt Martha," Hettie said, keeping her words clipped and hoping her voice didn't come out too garbled, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Mrs. Hudson's face looked pained as her niece spoke but she quickly hid her discomfort, disguising it with a dazzling smile.
"Oh, you look awful! Did you walk all the way here?" she asked, gesturing to Hettie's rumpled figure. The young woman bristled, as her aunt was more than aware that a hansom was a greater luxury than she could afford at this point, and Mrs. Hudson appeared instantly apologetic. "Oh, I'm sorry dear, I didn't mean any harm. Now come in! Let's get you settled, shall we?" Mrs. Hudson grabbed her niece around the wrist and pulled her inside, closing the door behind her before guiding her down the simply decorated hall towards the back of the house and Mrs. Hudson's own apartments.
Hettie tugged back a little, feeling overwhelmed at her Aunt's hectic pace, and Mrs. Hudson turned to face the girl, repentant. "I'm sorry, dear girl, I don't mean to rush you, but I'm quite anxious for you to meet the tenants. They're sweet boys, really they are, though Holmes can be a bit of a grouch in the morning." Hettie blanched at the thought of strangers but Mrs. Hudson shot down her mental retreat. "Now we'll have none of your shyness now, dearie, you'll have to get used to them as you'll be working in close quarters. Now come along dear, I'll take you to your room and let you freshen up." Hettie shook her head woefully, keeping her eyes locked on the faded blue carpet as she passed by the stairs, wondering just what it was that she had gotten herself into.