Thank you all for the reviews- please keep them coming, they're much appreciated. Sorry I'm not responding to them each in turn as I usually do but I'm still not feeling too brilliant- sob, sob- but here's another part for you all
From the diary of John H. Watson MD, 14thDecember 1884
"The division seems rather unfair," I remarked. "You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you?"
"For me," said Sherlock Holmes, "there still remains the cocaine-bottle." And he stretched his long white hand up for it.
(The Sign of Four)
Sitting here in my room as I am now, I am able for the first time to contemplate fully the events of the last few months. My good friend Holmes has recently put an end to a most interesting affair which I shall forthwith document under the title 'The Sign of Four' but for me there are to be more lasting consequences of our work for Miss Morstan- she and I are soon to be wed. Here in my private journal I can be permitted a romantic turn of phrase which dear Holmes would surely scoff at: my heart is fit to burst with joy now that I have Mary in my life.
She is a picture of feminine beauty with the brightest eyes and warmest heart of any lady I have ever met. She is beyond doubt the finest woman in my acquaintance with an intellect and wit that even my cynical Holmes cannot fail to appreciate. I am rapt with anticipation for the day when we will pledge ourselves to each other and would surely have been wandering around London wearing an inane grin since the moment she agreed to become my wife, had it not been for the irrational feelings guilt which plague me.
I know the cause, of course, I know him very well. Short of his initial remark that he could not congratulate me, Holmes has said little of my impending matrimony; his morose expressions, however, reveal the magnitude of his contempt for my decision. He feels that I am betraying him and I suppose that I am; marriage is against every one of his well weathered principles. Although he will never admit to it, I fear I am hurting him very greatly by changing the dynamic of our relationship; although I will continue to work with him on cases, we both know that there are some things that will have to change.
I feel I'm abandoning him too, leaving him alone with Mrs Hudson and his brooding thoughts in Baker Street. I like to pretend to myself that he'll find another roommate but I know he will not; it's not boastful pride that makes me say that there is no other he will open up to as he has me. The thought of leaving him fills me with cold dread as I know all too well how he will spend the lonely hours, bored and dispirited with only the deceptive comfort of his drugs and the cold embrace of his tourniquet while I'm enfolded in the love of my marital bed with my beloved Mary.
I wish he could be happy for me but I know he cannot; his hatred of women is too deep to allow him to feel joy as I am bound to one. It's not just hatred either, there's something else I can sense. The other day I caught sight of Holmes' expression over Mary's shoulder as we embraced and was shocked to see a countenance I had only regarded once, when we were awaiting a visit from a poisonous snake- he was afraid for me. To him, Mary is a viper ready to strike at me when my back is turned. While I am touched by his concern, I cannot help but be stung on Mary's behalf, she is too dear a creature to be so defamed.
I need to get to the bottom of this, for Holmes' peace of mind as well as my own; the strain of this is beginning to show both of our nerves. He has been more pallid and drawn than usual of late and, although he would never mean to hurt me, having a rift between the two people who mean the most to me in the world is tearing me in two. I must dress now and meet with the only man who can help to solve the mysteries of my friend: Mycroft Holmes.
