Hello! This is our first Sherlock fic and first AU fic. Constructive criticism is welcomed. And please feel free to correct us on any mistakes especially on the 18th century history facts.
The carriage rolled along the uneven road, bumping every so often. Young Margaret Hooper (who preferred to go by Molly), sat inside, her face solemn as she looked out the window, watching the snow fall steadily. Next to her sat her older sister, Daphne and opposite them sat their parents, Lord and Lady Hooper. They were wealthy people, but not as wealthy as their soon-to-be in-laws, the Holmes. The Holmes family were the wealthiest in all of England. The Holmes' youngest son, Sherlock, was Molly's soon-to-be husband. Today was the day when Molly and Sherlock would finally meet. "Now Margaret, I assume you know the Holmes family right? Good, good. Young master Sherlock, ah, may not be the most sentimental person. He's a queer fellow, he is. But his parents did ask for your hand for him personally so that has to mean something, doesn't it now?" Lord Hooper ranted on. Molly had barely turned eighteen when her father told her of this news. The Holmes had paid her father a large sum of money for Molly. Sherlock Holmes had never been seen in the public, or been in the newspapers. Molly feared that he may be too old for her, like around his brother, Mycroft's age. She could only pray for the best. "Ah look! We have arrived," said Lady Hooper. Her mother was always the vain one, today she was particularly flamboyant with her dressing. Wearing a tight corset with a pink dress that had short sleeves, and an extremely unflattering headdress. Her sister wore a similar dress, but just in turquoise. They both wore a tad bit too much makeup and each had gold necklaces with matching earrings. Her father wore his best suit, made of Italian silk with copper buttons and gold cuff links, and polished leather shoes. He held a gold top cane in his right hand. Molly however, looked as plain as bread next to her family. Wearing only a purple shoulder length gown with a tight corset, minimal makeup and plain black stiletto high heels that always clicked annoyingly every time she walked. Lady Hooper took her husband's arm as they exited the carriage. "Put on your coats, dears. It's dreadfully cold outside," Lady Hooper told Molly and Daphne. Two doormen opened the large polished wood doors to the Holmes manor. "Welcome, Lord Hooper," an ageing man greeted. With a head full of silvery hair, he was the head butler of the Holmes mansion, Albert Clayworth III. "May... may I take your coat and hat, m'lady?" a tall young man asked Molly. Molly whipped around, though it was hard especially in that dress of hers. "Ah, Miss Hooper. I see that young Mister James Moriarty has been captured by your beauty," Alfred said. Molly flushed as this James Moriarty took her coat and hat and kissed her hand. "Why don't I lead you to the sitting room? Your family has already went. You may be able to wait for Sir Holmes there," said Albert. Molly allowed herself to be lead nearer to her future, leaving the charming young man behind.