"So?" Sherlock looked over his shoulder to his sister in-law.
"So, what?"
"Who is she, when is she coming to dinner?" Anthea prompted with a teasing grin. She lounged on the sofa, newspapers crinkling as she picked at her embroidery hoop.
"You're crushing the Prime Minister's face."
"Am I?" She got up and pushed the paper to the floor. "If you let Mrs. Hudson tidy up you might do better with this lady friend of yours, speaking of, you still haven't said who she is."
"No, I haven't, have I?"
Mycroft, Sherlock's elder brother, had an arranged marriage years ago. He'd lucked out tremendously, marrying a woman like Anthea. She was adventurous, independent, and played diplomat between the two Holmes brothers. She was different from all the other ladies of society, and Sherlock liked her almost immediately upon meeting her. He wasn't exactly hiding his relationship from her, or from the rest of his family for that matter. He simply wanted to keep the woman to himself for the time being.
"Sherlock?" Another voice in the hall made them both turn. "For goodness sakes! You've tracked mud all over the front rug! Mrs. Hudson is going to have your head because I'm not telling her it was me this time!" A basket was set on the floor, Anthea looked up, eyes sparkling in delight and she leapt to her feet.
"Anthea don't-" Sherlock bolted after her, nearly slamming into her back as she skidded to a stop.
"Lady Anthea Holmes how do you do-" she said quickly and stuck her hand out. Molly didn't even blink at the two of them forcing their way through the door to the parlor.
"Doctor Molly Hooper, Specialist Registrar at St. Bart's Hospital."
"Oh that's marvelous!" Anthea gushed. "Sherlock you never said she was a specialist!"
"Molly, your timing is, as always impeccable."
"I do my best," she proffered her cheek and Sherlock bent, much to Anthea's surprise, and kissed it.
"I supposed you've brought me a little treat from today's work?"
"Oh plenty of goodies, here, take it into your lab. I'll get the kettle on."
"What for?" Sherlock asked, poking through the basket.
"Your brother is coming in. He sent Caruthers to fetch some petrol for that beastly motor car of his. I'm sure he'll want tea." Sherlock made a face. "Keep scowling, your face will stay that way," before he could change expressions or Anthea even to blink, Molly rose on tip-toe, kissed the consulting detective square on the mouth before taking Anthea by the hand and bustling off to the kitchen.
"So..." Anthea stood by the china cabinet, out of the way of the pathologist as she scurried around the kitchen setting up a tray for them. "You and Sherlock are..."
"Engaged," Molly laughed. Anthea did a double-take.
"What?!"
"Oh yes, almost four months now," Molly smiled. "Invitations will be sent out very soon now, I had to bully Sherlock into agreeing to a little reception." Anthea nodded, a little jealous of the ease of the pathologist's way around a kitchen, the way she seemed to waltz through the Holmes' lives. Anthea didn't really have any complaints, her transition to married life was not so hard, but it certainly wasn't easy. "I've gotten your address from Mary Watson," Molly continued. "And Mycroft and Sherlock's parents. I'm sorry we haven't met before. I've been eager to meet you, I hope we'll be good friends. Sherlock's always speaks so highly of you."
"Does he? Well that makes me happy then." Anthea smiled. "He's never mentioned you."
"I expect that was partially my fault," Molly confessed. "He spoke so well of you, how you came from such a great family, and his brother being a Lord, and his father and mother both holding titles. I suppose I was a little ashamed. Nobody looks at a pathologist and thinks 'what a charming wife'!" She laughed. Anthea smiled.
"Sherlock does." Molly blushed then, looking at the engagement ring on her finger. "Have you met Mycroft yet? Or Lord and Lady Holmes?"
"Mycroft met me for tea at Claridges three months ago, I expect to see if I would do. He seems quite nice, though a little..." She paused, choosing her words. "Cold."
"He can be," Anthea nodded. "It's his way. But he loves his family, even if he doesn't show it."
"Sherlock and I have been invited to his parents for dinner this Saturday. I'm afraid I'll make a fool of myself. I've been putting it off, sure they won't approve of me." Molly shrugged, taking the kettle off the stove.
"Don't worry," Anthea soothed. "Lady Holmes is a dear, and Lord Holmes is absolutely precious. I expect he always wanted daughters but got sons instead. He'll adore you."
"I just want to please Sherlock," Molly confessed.
"Obviously you already have," both women turned to see Sherlock in the doorway. "Anthea your husband is here."
"Your brother," she patted his shoulder, stepping past him.
"What do you think of her then?" Sherlock asked and Molly smiled.
"I like her. I think we shall be good friends."
"You never said you were nervous about meeting Mummy and Father."
"I was embarrassed," she shrugged and he gathered her into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"You needn't be. My sister in-law is correct. Father always wanted daughters, and he'll adore you."
"What about your mother? A great lady like Violet Holmes doesn't entertain pathologists on a regular basis."
"I imagine it will make the conversation over tea vastly more interesting than usual."
In the parlor, Anthea smoothed her husband's tie, wiping the rain from his shoulders.
"I told you that umbrella leaked," she scolded, eyeing the water stains on the good wool suit.
"Nothing for it now," he shrugged. "Anyway, how do you like her?"
"Molly? I think she's lovely," Anthea smiled. "Not as quiet as you said she was."
"Do you suppose Mummy will like her? She does work for a living, you know."
"I think that any future prospect of grandchildren will more than make up for it," Anthea said dryly.
"Hm." He listened for the voices of his brother and Molly Hooper coming from the kitchen. "And do you think she will make my brother happy?" Anthea smiled, straightening her husband's tie before leaning up to kiss him.
"As happy as you make me."