Chapter Four

"The rain seems heavier out here," Holmes grumbled as he entered my room an hour later.

By 'out here' I took he meant anywhere outside of London and so I readied myself for yet another ode to the dreariness of country life, the good mood he had enjoyed earlier in the day clearly having been drowned in the steady patter of droplets and the never ending expanses of lush green. No cobbles, no smoke and grind, nowhere to hectically run, I could see why he found it so very disagreeable.

I was dressing for dinner while he was already combed and composed, his suit having given way for the more traditional black coattails. He threw himself in a chair before sitting himself up, leaning back and putting a finger across his lips as his eyes declared the focus of his thoughts at a single topic of interest.

"It washes away things unwonted. And some things wanted," I remarked of the rain, pausing my fingers as they were buttoning the shirt I had put on and turning my eyes on Holmes. "You had no intention to scour for more leads, did you?"

He waved a hand with an impatient air.

"There is nothing more to find out there," he muttered and I finished the last button as he brought the pin out. "This belonged to Frederick Harrington," he murmured. "But Mrs Dennison said he only wore it in his hunting cap, and there was no hunting cap found at the scene. If it did not fall off the body of Frederick Harrington, then where did it come from? Did anyone else have it, and if so, why should they have something the man viewed as a treasure? Did he give it away or did someone steal it, and for what purpose?"

"Perhaps he gave it as a token of friendship; or as a lover's gift?"

"Yes, one would think," Holmes said, his eyes snapping to meet mine. "Naturally, there would not have been an attempt at stealing it if it did not carry some significance. It may even lead in a direction I am not yet willing to take."

I did not see his point and he smiled a little.

"The clover is the symbol of a country," he offered.

"Ireland," I finished the thought.

H

Amélie Woodsworth arrived half an hour before dinner was to be served. Matthew had fallen asleep in the carriage and was carried by an older lady wearing colours befitting a maid. He was half awake by the time they all stepped into the hall, but was blinking at the sight of his grandparents, as if wanting to place them and finding he could not. Lady Isabel smiled at him, kissing his fingers before she took him from the maid, hugging him tight. This clearly jerked the boy's memory, or made his shyness be forgotten, and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Mama," he said, the lady's smile widening.

"Mon chér," she mumbled.

"Hello, father," Miss Amélie greeted the lord, giving him a peck on the cheek.

There was no hostility in their meeting, and I drew from it the understanding that they had put the past behind them, and that Matthew was viewed as a true member of the family. Miss Amélie hugged her sister warmly before meeting the kiss she received from her brother with one cheek. She smiled at him and then Miss Josephine, taking one hand of each in both of hers.

"I do miss you," she said earnestly.

"No longer," Miss Josephine replied. "We are so happy you've come."

"As am I," Miss Amélie nodded, turning her gaze on our two foreign forms, standing as elusive décor to the side of the homecoming. "Mr Holmes," she said with a bright smile. "Dr Watson." We both nodded our greeting. "Father, you must not think I had no faith in how the situation was handled," she began, but the lord put one hand up, silencing her.

"I should have thought of it myself," he said. "But you always were one step ahead of me."

"Oh, no; if it was so, many of the things marring our lives would not have been permitted to take place," she disagreed softly. "Caroline," she said, turning to her maid and asking her to help bring the suitcases to their rooms and begin unpacking.

Caroline curtsied and did as she had been requested.

Lady Isabel had brought Matthew with her into the drawing-room, which we had all occupied before the travellers arrived. She took a seat with him on one of the couches. They had engaged themselves in conversation concerning his achievements as a scholar, which seemed to be vast enough to span learning the proper names of all the letters of which his name consisted, as well as listening to his mother reading to him stories of the brothers Grimm.

"You must tell us of all the gossip from London," I overheard Miss Josephine say as she walked passed Holmes and me, her arm in her sister's.

"Yes, we do implore you," master Luc agreed with an air telling of his little interest for the subject.

Miss Amélie laughed, they all having a seat by one of the tall windows. Outside the rain fell in sheets of wet, obliterating the setting sun and obscuring the twilight into shades of grey. It made the house, and the warmth of the fires having been lit in the fairly sized fireplaces, feel like nothing short of a haven.

Holmes and I had a seat on one of the couches, my mouth about to part to tell Holmes of my observations on our current accommodations when a slight voice interrupted me.

"Mr Holmes, sir," it said and Holmes turned his head in a birdlike manner, with the smallest jerk of wonder, toward the sound. Little Matthew looked at him quite the same way Miss Josephine had, but this was the awe of a young boy having undoubtedly heard of some of Sherlock Holmes' escapades.

"What is it?" Holmes inquired gently.

"Would you tell me a story?" the boy asked, and before Holmes even had time to reply, the child had decidedly crept onto his lap, leaning against him with his face turned up to his with an expression which all children possess when expecting something they've wished for; a blend of hope and fear and excitement, and at times that lingering countenance of patience and impatience all bundled together.

"I don't believe I know any stories that would amuse you," Holmes said, but Matthew smiled.

"You know tons and tons of them, I know it. You must!" Holmes arched an eyebrow at that, about to argue that point, I was fairly certain, but the boy would not let him as he proceeded: "I'd like to hear one I haven't heard already, so you can pick."

The last sentence sounded as though a great honour was being bestowed upon my friend and he glanced briefly at me, receiving but a shrug for his effort as I could not guide him in the matter. He eyed the boy for another few moments before he said:

"Have you ever heard of the witch in Cowering Forest?"

"It's not Cowering, it's Coveted!" Matthew interjected.

"No," Holmes replied, "in my story the forest is called Cowering; but you are right in it sounding quite similar to the name of your forest."

Matthew nodded ambiguously.

"Well, then; have you ever heard of the witch in Cowering Forest?"

Matthew shook his head, and I could just about see his ears perking. The younger people of our humble flock ceased their discussion, all of them turning their heads our way. I saw the lord gently take one of Lady Isabel's hands in his and she smiled a little at him, shaking her head in the slightest, making me think the lord was worried of the propriety of a tale of such subject before Matthew's bedtime, and the lady reassuring him it was all right.

And it truly was, for Holmes proceeded with delving into a story riddled with sinister humour. It was a tale of true friendship, of battling evil and conquering it. The evil was fear, and the witch non-existent at the end, which did not surprise me. What did surprise me was Holmes' excellent telling language; and that, I suppose, I should have expected from a man with an imagination so vivid it sometimes threatened to take over his entire existence, and not just the parts it had already claimed.

When Holmes finished, Matthew smiled widely at him.

"That was very, very good," he said.

"You enjoyed it, then?"

"I enjoyed it very much, thank you, Mr Holmes."

Holmes smiled a slight smile as the boy scooted off his knee and jumped to the floor.

"Indeed, you handled that quite well," I commented and his eyes turned in mine, the smile lingering. "I am beginning to wonder why you have not fathered any children of your own."

At that his smile widened before it died quite suddenly, his face growing serious as he observed me for a moment and then turned his gaze away.

"I should ask you the same," he murmured.

"I did not mean to..." I began, feeling as though I had made an error which had scarred him, but he shook his head in order to stop my sentence, looking at me once again.

"Had I the lady I would have the child," he said slowly. "But as there is no lady..."

He smiled a small smile again, rising to his feet as the butler entered, announcing that dinner was served. I followed his movement and together we walked into the dining room.

His melancholy at times perplexed me. He seemed quite content in the life he led, and the contempt he usually held for the fairer sex had quite early on in our acquaintance told me that a Mrs Holmes was nowhere to be found. But when he was as he just had been, somehow burdened by it and showing it not so much with words, but with subtle action and the language of his body, it made me wonder if there was more to it, and if I was ever to know if there were.

Before my mind was set to dwelling on the matter, however, Lady Isabel started up the conversation around the table and I was once more part of our small, but sufficient, unit.

The evening went by in a quiet pace; the dinner being devoured with many exclamations of its superb consistence, the brandy being shared in the sitting room and afterwards the party dividing into groups of choice. Lady Isabel sat down at the piano forte, not for our amusement, but her own. Lord Woodsworth took a seat with Holmes and me before the fire, while the three younger people sat together at a table, playing a game of bridge.

Matthew had been put to bed after we had eaten, his delightful prattle having been cause for much merriment at the table.

Holmes lit a cigarette and as I could tell he was in no mood for idle conversation, I took it upon myself to speak with the lord of trivial matters. Holmes listened, as he surely was taking in every sound of the room, but I could tell his eyes glazing over with pleasure at certain parts of the Mozart piece drifting from the instrument close by, and at the precision and flow of Lady Isabel's playing.

H

Later that evening, in the confinement of the bedroom assigned to me, I sat nowhere near sleep, and decided to write a few lines. No more than half an hour can have passed with me so engaged, when I heard a soft noise. It was not more than a whimper, but as I began to listen for it, I could detect it quite easily. I put my pen down, extinguished the candle and drew my robe tighter around me before I walked up to my door. Cracking it open I peered into the darkened hallway outside. I saw a figure move passed and pulled my head back, tentatively waiting for a sign of having been spotted. None came. Putting my eye in the slit once more, I saw Miss Amélie push the door of Miss Josephine's bedroom open. Light fell across her form, and though I could only see her back, I thought it odd that, at this late hour, she was still fully dressed. I could distinctly hear Miss Josephine's sobs right before the door closed behind her sister.

H

The following morning I was making my way down the stairs to the front hall when I heard two voices speaking in rather upset tones. I halted my descent, indecisive of whether I should continue onward and venture to slip by unnoticed, or if I should simply retreat, when the subject of the argument caught my attention, and I could do nothing but listen in growing puzzlement.

Lord Woodsworth and Lady Isabel were to whom the voices belonged.

"I cannot believe such folly should be wilfully entertained, not by you, of all people," the lord said.

"It is not folly to want nothing higher than to put an end to all this death once and for all. Mr Holmes is a brilliant man, Charles..."

"I am quite aware of it!" he interrupted. "For God's sakes, Izzie, speak to your daughter, make her see reason. She cannot take the risk of... Can you not see him finding out all of it? Where will it leave us? I do wish you hadn't invited him to stay in this house."

"He is not without compassion," Lady Isabel replied softly. "He will not speak of it, were he ever to put the pieces together."

"I am not so sure," the lord murmured.

My brow carried deep creases as I carefully slipped down the last few steps and moved through the hall, walking through the door of the sitting room and closing it silently behind me. I felt quite rattled and headed up to the table hosting a selection of carafes, choosing the one containing bourbon and pouring me half a glass. Swallowing the liquid down I drew a deep breath and decided to find Holmes as soon as humanly possible.

I came across him in the library, where he was smoking, seated in one of the deep, leather armchairs. I sat down in the chair opposite him, eyeing him for a few moments. He seemed not very inclined to make due notice of me, lost in thought, but this was one time I saw it perfectly fit to disturb him, and I leaned forth.

"Holmes," I said, proceeding to tell him of what I had overheard.

He listened dutifully, a small smile very soon having begun to play with the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, indeed," he finally murmured once I had finished my account.

"Is that all you have to say on the matter?"

"What matter is that?"

I stared at him.

"Well, surely this must have something to do with the case!" I nearly exclaimed.

He simply smiled once more.

"We shall see," he answered softly.

I was reluctant to let go of the topic he obviously found it so easily to brush aside, but I understood he would not do so if something had hindered him, and I took it to mean it truly was of no real importance.

We moved onto discuss the events of the previous evening. I sensed that he was rather disappointed in me when I told him I had noticed nothing out of the ordinary, neither during dinner nor the time spent thereafter in the presence of the family members. Nothing spoke of tension between any two people, be it family or servants. Asking him what he had hoped I should have observed, he cocked one eyebrow.

"Far be it for me to tell you," he replied, giving me the distinct notion that whatever it was should be blatantly obvious. "In any respect, I am still undecided," he added, clipping off any further dwelling on the point.

I told him of what I had seen last night; his eyes shifting from attentive to piercing as a new light quickly began to shine in them at the prospect, which I knew he felt had presented itself, of gaining another step towards the solving of this riddle.

"Watson, would you ask Miss Josephine to meet me in the sitting room?"

"And where am I to go once she is there?"

"Why, of course you are to join us," he replied, quite exasperated, though I had to smirk, leaving him to find the girl in question.

I met Miss Amélie and master Luc as they – arm in arm – aimed to proceed passed me through the hall and out into the garden. They were laughing, clearly enjoying each other's company, and I remembered Miss Amélie telling me that it had been nearly six months since she had been home.

It had been at Christmas, but she had disclosed that summer was her favourite time at Ashley House. The serenity was of a different kind, one not found in London at this time of year, even when the city lacked much life as most of society left it for family estates scattered across the countryside. Christmas in London was a different matter all together, when the splendour of candle light and soft snow seemed to take away the sometimes cruel reality of residing in such a metropolis, and hush everything into the magic of the season. I had had to agree with her.

I searched for Miss Josephine for a good five minutes, but came up empty handed. I finally ran into Miss McAdams, who told me Miss Josephine had left early that morning for a walk through the woods. She usually did not come home until afternoon tea on a beautiful day like today, the girl added, and I thanked her.

"No luck?" Holmes inquired as I joined him in the library, alone, and I shook my head, though I knew it was unnecessary.

His question had been, as many of his questions were, a statement of observation.

"Let's join the others outside," I said.

After a long look from him he rose, following me as I walked into the sitting room and out through the high glass windows, most of them standing open for the gentleness of the morning breeze. It truly was the beginning of a glorious day, and I felt my senses invigorated by it. Holmes, on the other hand, puffed smoke as though he found it all rather trite.

Lady Isabel was sitting on a chair, which was part of a collection of lawn furniture standing in the shade of a great oak. Lady Amélie was seated on a blanket spread in the grass nearby and Luc and Matthew were running around, playing what looked like it was supposed to be hide-and-seek. Though it seemed they were both seeking, as they – laughing – ran around the wide trunk of the ancient tree guarding them from the harshness of the sun.

"Mr Holmes, Dr Watson; good morning," Lady Isabel greeted, gesturing for us to choose our preferred spot.

Holmes sat down in the chair closest to her, asking her of why the lord was absent and having her tell him that her husband had been called to Town, and would be back later that evening. I sat down next to Holmes, observing Luc and Matthew with a smile, which widened as my eyes caught in Miss Amélie's.

"Would you like a strawberry, Dr Watson?" she asked.

"Why, yes, thank you," I nodded, getting to my feet to procure one from the basket she was holding up to me. "Holmes," I added, looking back at my friend. "Strawberry?"

He waved a hand of non-interest, turning back to Lady Isabel.

"You should take his, then, Doctor," Miss Amélie said with another smile. "Once Matthew gets started he seldom stops until they are all gone."

I grabbed another strawberry at once, and the lady smiled warmly. I bowed slightly in thanks before I returned to my seat.

"Have a strawberry," I said, handing Holmes his part of the collected summer treasure.

He frowned at it, but grasped its small green leaves and brought it to his mouth, biting the whole bit of fruit off and chewing it as he threw what was left over one shoulder. I smiled at his manner, enjoying the few bites of what was left of mine.

Luc collapsed onto the blanket.

"Your son is a born rascal!" he said, Matthew giggling as he sunk down on the blanket as well, immediately diving for the strawberries.

"You are teaching him every trick you know, you brute," Miss Amélie chided in good humour.

"Uncle, watch this!" Matthew said, bringing out his slingshot from one pocket and picking up a small rock.

Aiming with care he let the rock go and it hit the branch it had been intended for with a low popping noise.

"Excellent!" Luc said. "You're getting quite good."

"I practise every day," Matthew stated proudly.

"Good man," Luc smiled, taking a strawberry and swallowing half of it before bringing it to Amélie's mouth.

She took a bite, watching as Matthew got to his feet.

"I'll run and hide, and you count," he said, Luc dutifully placing one hand across his eyes, still chewing his strawberry. "Mr Holmes," the boy added. Holmes put his discussion with Lady Isabel on pause to turn his eyes in Matthew's. "Want to play?"

"Some other time, Matthew," Lady Isabel replied in Holmes' stead. "Mr Holmes and I are talking."

"Oh," Matthew muttered. "Would you like to, Doctor?"

I considered it; then got to my feet, making the boy leap for joy before treading one hand in one of mine.

"I know the best hiding place," he boasted.

Off we went to a cluster of small bushes. They were in eye-sight of the spot we had just left and as we walked around it to hunch down, Matthew said:

"See, he'll think we'll have run as far as possible to hide, so it'll take him twice as long to find us."

"Ah, I see," I nodded.

"One hundred," I heard Luc call and through the branches I saw him sit up, looking around. "Where can they have gone," he added for good measure, rising to his feet. "Dear sister," he said with a bow, "would you accompany me in my dire quest?"

"I am sorry, sir," she answered him. "Regretfully I must admit to being much too easily frightened for such an adventure."

Luc smiled a little, granting her another bow before he headed off in search of us. Matthew put both hands over his mouth; keeping down a giggle as his uncle walked right passed us and continued further into the garden.

"Told you," the boy then smiled with his whole face, and I returned it.

"You're one clever chap," I commended.

"Hah-hah!" Luc's voice rang out behind us and Matthew gave a squeal before running around the bushes, Luc on his heel.

I straightened up, brushing off the grass stuck to my trousers as I came forth as well. Luc was swinging Matthew high in he air before they both landed back on the blanket, laughing. Miss Amélie turned her blue eyes in mine with her appreciation for my part of the play quite clear.

"Matthew, won't you offer the good doctor another strawberry?" she said and Matthew grabbed one, coming up to me with it and placing it in my hand.

"Next time you can count," he said and I laughed.

"I should enjoy that," I replied.

I took my previous seat, noting that Lady Isabel was missing from the group. Holmes met my questioning gaze.

"She went to consult cook about dinner," he said. "Household matters," he added with a bored air and I smiled.

"Would you rather play?" I asked.

"I am quite content where I am now positioned," he replied. "It cultivates certain perfection for the watchful eye."

I smirked.

"Not even when surrounded by the freshness of such a morning as this, does your mind relieve you for a moment," I remarked.

"I should be so grateful," he said. "Or I would be jaded to leave here at once."

"Oh, I've no doubt," I agreed, eating my strawberry. "Pleasure is as private as the pearl to an oyster," I added. "I should not dream of prying you open to partake in some of mine."

"Watson, I am breathing the air, I am sitting leisurely, I am partaking."

I smiled, leaving him to walk up to Miss Amélie, coming back and placing what I had retrieved before him on the table.

"Then have another strawberry," I encouraged as I retook my seat.

Hello KCS and Velvet Green! Thanks so much for the reviews! For KCS – So lovely to read all that positivity! Thank you! Wonderful compliments, my friend, I'm happy you like it! And the "keeping it in character" comment is priceless to me! Thanks again! For velvet green – I'm so happy you're still with the like. Thanks so much for your compliments! Yay, all happy! )

Hope this latest installment was to your liking!

x's

Annie.