A/N: This was started completely out of wanting something to do to waste hours until I have to work. Obviously it's a Sherlock fanfiction with inspiration drawn from Jane Austen's works. Please enjoy, I LOVE reviews!

Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of Sherlock characters.


"Molly, dear, your father and I must speak with you," Molly's mother, Lady Emma Hooper, spoke softly when she entered her daughter's room.

"Yes, Mother," Molly joined her mother and the two trekked downstairs. Molly's father was seated in the drawing room.

"Good morning, Papa." Molly bent down to give her father a peck on the cheek before perching on a sofa.

"Molly, your mother and I have been thinking. You're 18, you've been out in society for two years, and have yet to receive and proposals of marriage," Henry Hooper explained.

Molly bit her lip, her eyes wide, "I told you before, I haven't met anyone that-, I'm not-," Molly struggled to find words. "I want to fall in love," she demanded adamantly.

Henry gave a gentle look of sympathy, he understood his daughter's feelings, but his wife had other plans.

"Molly, you are not growing any younger, and neither is your father. We want you to be taken care of, to be provided for. Your father can't do that forever. You need a husband."

"Mother, I don't need a husband. I'm happy, I'm taken care of, and Father is healthy," Molly argued.

"Molly, be reasonable," Emma commanded.

"Mother, I'd rather be alone and poor and content than married and miserable," Molly's face twisted with confusion and worry.

Henry sighed; he hated his daughter to be upset.

"Molly, in fortnight we will hold a ball. I've had invitations sent out to all eligible men and their families. You are to meet them and dance and impress them while your father I will work to make you a suitable match," Lady Hooper spoke firmly.

Molly glanced down at her hands folded in her lap, "Do I even have a choice?" Her voice was soft and hesitant.

Molly lifted her eyes. Her parents' faces were apologetic. She tore from the room, running out the back door of the manor. She hurried through the gardens, through the back gate and across the rolling hills of the English countryside.

She only stopped when she ran out of breath and had a stitch in her side. Why did she have to get married? Why couldn't she wait? Why did it have to be forced? What was wrong with falling in love? She had run nearly the entire way to her favorite place in the world. It was a spot on the brook near the edge of her father's land. There was a cluster of boulders in the stream, where the fresh water rushed over the stones. Molly wandered to her secret place. At the bank of the stream she removed her shoes and stockings and waded into the flowing creek. This life, the freedom and adventures, I don't want to give this up for some man. I want a life worth living. The cool, clear water washed over her feet and ankles as Molly walked through the brook, holding up the skirt of her dress. She climbed up the boulders and perched herself atop the largest rock. Why can't my mother just understand? She stretched out on the flat top of the boulder and lied there, listening to the rushing stream, until the stars came into the sky and shined down through the trees.

The sky was completely dark by the time Molly started to stroll back home. She walked quietly through the garden and crept around to the front of the manor. She spotted her mother embroidering by candlelight in the front parlor. Molly couldn't face her mother, not now.

Molly edged along the walls of the house to the kitchen door. She snuck inside, grabbing a dinner roll and slathering it with preserves as she passed through the kitchen. She walked slowly up the staircase, taking them slowly to avoid creaking. She slid through her bedroom door and was about to collapse on her bed when she saw her father, relaxing on the settee at the foot of her bed.

She froze in place, staring at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't think of any excuse of explanation.

Henry rose from his position and approached his daughter. He pushed her brown hair, which had fallen from its bun during the course of the day, away from her face.

"Molly, darling, I'm sorry, truly. I wish there was something that I could do, but your mother has a point. If something were to happen to me there's no one to care for you. I want you to be provided for, that's all. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I see no other option."

Molly's eyes filled with tears at her father's sincerity, "I understand."

"I love you, sweet girl," Henry kissed her forehead.

"I love you, papa," Molly replied.

Lord Henry exited the room, leaving Molly with her thoughts, wondering if she would ever lead a fulfilling, worthwhile existence.