A/N: I'd like to take a moment to thank my anonymous reviewers (as I have no other way of doing so excepted here), especially 'Latona' who offered me the great compliment of informing me that my writing has improved between Scandal's Daughter and this one. Thank you! All reviews make my day!
I should have foreseen that Mrs. Stanhope would not take my victory well. The very next day, when the fog kept us all in, she found me sketching the front of 221 Baker Street, she took action. "I told you not draw such common things," she snapped impatiently. "And where is the watercolor you promised? Do not tell me that you go back on your word, Miss Norton!"
"It is on the easel," I answered patiently, nodding to where the object stood by the window where the light was best.
Huffing, Mrs. Stanhope pulled my sketchbook from me, ignoring my cry of protest. "You have an unhealthy obsession, Miss Serena Norton."
Bristling at the accusation, I lifted my chin. "How so?"
"This fascination with that common detective, Sherlock Holmes," Mrs. Stanhope clarified swiftly. "I know of those pamphlets of yours. It is beyond absurd that you read them! And it will come to an end. Your parents have charged with educating in subjects a young lady should know, and I will do so to the best of my ability, whether you enjoy the process or not."
She turned on her heel and stalked across the room with a haughty determination. I saw what her target was in an instant and I sprang up, shoving my chair back. "No!" I protested. "Mrs. Stanhope! Please, no!"
"These pamphlets are nothing for a young lady to be polluting her mind with, and I have borne it long enough!" Mrs. Stanhope declared. She grabbed the few pamphlets that I had left in the schoolroom, having wanted them on hand to consult. "I am shocked your parents have not done anything to stop this. But I shall rise to the task and dispose of these...appalling items!"
With a dismissive gesture, she tossed my treasured monographs, written and given to me by Sherlock Holmes himself, into the fire. I flung myself at the hearth as the flames caught onto the papers. I grabbed the closest item, a fire iron, and knocked the monographs out. Mrs. Stanhope caught my wrist as I moved to put out the flames.
"Let them burn," she ordered. "You cannot need such information."
Wrenching my arm free, I glared at her. "They are my personal belongings!" I hissed. I used my skirt to smother the flames, but the papers were scorched black. Destroyed. Tears welled up, but I blinked them back. "You have no right to destroy them! They were a gift to me!"
"Lessons are done for today," Mrs. Stanhope decided, ignoring me. "You may have the rest of the afternoon to yourself."
I was left, sitting on my knees on the floor, as she swept out of the room like she was the queen. Resisting the temptation to throw something at the door she'd gone out, I leaned over my destroyed papers. I ran my finger over one blackened edge and watched the paper crumble under my touch. There would be no salvaging any of them.
"Oh, look. Paper ash is different from coal ash," I remarked to no one in particular, my tone dull. I knocked the monographs back into the fire and sat back. I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down.
Where would I be able replace these? I had studied them, yes, but was by no means certain I would be able to remember every valuable fact that they had contained. And even if I could, they would not hold the same value to me. Mr. Holmes had sent them to me after I had left London, and had been the last I had heard from the famous detective.
My head came up as I realized I had the rest of the monographs in my room, in plain sight on the table by my bed. What would stop Mrs. Stanhope from destroying those as well? I scrambled to my feet, feeling a bit breathless from the tight corset she'd forced me into. I rushed for my room, hoping I would be in time.
They were already gone. This time, I did cry. I hadn't even read a few of them! I sagged onto the floor, covering my face with my hands. And I had been so happy over getting those stupid pastries! I should have known Mrs. Stanhope would find some way of breaking me!
My bedroom door opened. "Miss Serena!" Mrs Leigh exclaimed. She rushed to my side. "Why, whatever is the matter?"
"She burned the monographs!" I cried, feeling my loss keenly.
I felt Mrs. Leigh stiffen. She had often scolded me for my reading material. "I have had enough of that woman!" she declared. "She thinks she is so very high above us all! Well, I will not have her destroying my lamb's things!"
Her old nickname for me brought a weak smile to my face. "You haven't called me that in years."
"This will put you to rights," Mrs. Leigh said, pressing a newspaper into my hand. She left me as I unfolded the paper.
The front page article detailed the break in at the house of the Duke of Rochester's house while the duke and duchess were out. Lady Elisabeth, seventeen years old, had been left behind, suffering from a headache. She'd been shot when she walked in on the intruder. She'd died instantly, and all of her jewels were missing, taken by the villain who'd shot her down.
I leaned against my bed as I considered the whole of it. It had been only two weeks since the occurrence, and her friend fell down stairs now? There had to be a connection. But what?
Taking a deep breath, I stood up. I knew exactly where to go.
Convincing Mrs. Leigh to escort me to 221 Baker Street took several hours. However much she may be on my side against Mrs. Stanhope, she did not want to neglect her work. Finally, though, I wore her down and she agreed to take me the next morning.
First thing when Father got home, I went to him with what Mrs. Stanhope had done and, quite respectfully, requested that another governess be found for me. Someone who would respect my way of thinking and would not destroy my things in an attempt to change me. Almost anyone would be preferable!
Father said he would speak to Mrs. Stanhope and advised me to give the woman a chance. Citing having work, he dismissed me. Less than happy with his decision, I kissed his cheek and left. Coming to London had separated me from my father's company more than I liked. And given that he'd found papers that had threatened our family before, I worried the same would happen once again.
With my mind heavy with serious thoughts, I dressed with care to make the visit to Baker Street. Smoothing the dark blue fabric of my walking dress, I regarded my appearance in the mirror and carefully pinned my hat into place. I'd grown in the past six months, though I still had the beanpole straight figure as before.
Shaking my head, I hurried downstairs, fervently hoping to avoid Mrs. Stanhope. She'd either insist on going with me or try to keep from going in the first place! As it was, she'd be furious that I was skipping my lessons this morning.
Looking disapproving, Mrs. Leigh was waiting for me at the door. The ride from Briony Lodge to Baker Street was not long at all. The fog had lifted enough that I was able to watch the buildings go by, delighting to recognize landmarks every now and then. Mrs. Leigh was not as enthusiastic by the view, as she had a strong dislike for anything but the countryside.
Baker Street had changed very little, 221 was exactly the same. I stood on the sidewalk looking up at it, remembering all that had happened within its walls. My hand stole to my throat as I recalled the attack on my life.
"Miss Serena, you are looking pale," Mrs. Leigh said in concern. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," I answered quickly. I strode up to the door and rang the doorbell. Mrs. Leigh fidgeted uncomfortably beside me, unused to using the front door. The door was opened a few moments later by a young maid who peered at us quizzically but without surprise. "I am Miss Norton, and I am here to see Mrs. Hudson."
Surprise filled the girl's face. "Mrs. Hudson?" she repeated.
"Yes, child," Mrs. Leigh said impatiently, reacting with her housekeeper's instinct. "That is what Miss Norton has said."
Flushing at the implied correction, the maid stepped back to allow us in. She left us standing in the foyer and hurried away to find the housekeeper of 221 Baker Street. It was no more than a minute and I saw the familiar, grandmotherly figure of Mrs. Hudson hurrying towards me. A smile curved my lips as I stepped forward, holding my hands out.
"Mrs. Hudson! You haven't changed at all!" I declared.
"Miss Norton!" Mrs Hudson exclaimed in answer. She brushed at her skirt. I must have pulled her from her work. "I had no notion you were in town. I'm sorry. Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson are not in at the moment."
"But it is you I have come to see!" I informed her. I gestured to my companion. I really hoped they would get on. "May I introduce you to Mrs. Leigh, who has looked after me for as long as I could remember. Mrs. Leigh this is Mrs. Hudson, who looked after me while I was here."
The two older women nodded at each other. "Come into my sitting room," Mrs. Hudson invited. I smiled in delight, accepting her hospitality.