Nearly there...!
Some uncharacteristic strong language from Arthur - but, hey, he is with his Army buddies!
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The sudden sound of a child crying had Mycroft instantly awake. He threw off the duvet and sat up on the side of the bed, listening intently for the noise that had broken his dream. Then it came again and he relaxed, with a sigh of relief. Violet, one floor down, was demanding attention but not his. He checked his bedside clock – six-thirty. No rush to get up, even though it was his Wedding Day. He lay back down and closed his eyes, musing on the day ahead.
Elsewhere in the grand house, despite the early hour, it was already a hive of activity. Mrs Orgreave, in the farmhouse kitchen, was preparing two lots of breakfast – one for Arthur and his family, who would eat in one of the East Wing side rooms, and one for Mycroft's family and friends, who would be using the Breakfast Room in the main house. The grooms would not meet today until they stood before the celebrant, to make their vows.
Housekeeper Mrs Willis and her team had spent most of Saturday setting up the Great Hall for the day's events. The partition screen had been drawn, dividing the hall in two. In the front half, the chairs were set out in a semi-circle, three rows deep, with a central aisle. The celebrant's table was positioned in front of the stage, with two chairs, for the grooms, in the centre of the semi-circle.
The rear half of the hall was laid out for the formal meal, with a rectangular head table at the far end and six circular ones, each seating eight guests, spread out within the space. Covered in white linen and set with silver cutlery and crystal glasses, they made the whole room sparkle.
The floral arrangements and table centre decorations had been delivered late on Saturday afternoon, to ensure their freshness, and were distributed strategically around both halves of the hall, adding splashes of colour and filling the air with the sweet scent of fresh Spring flowers – irises, narcissi, freesias, hyacinths, tulips and Lily-of-the-Valley. The principals' button holes – comprised of freesia, Lily-of-the-Valley, a single white rose and a sprig of maidenhair fern - were in the 'cold room', keeping cool and fresh.
In the professional kitchen, beneath the Great Hall, staff were already prepping the ingredients for the Wedding Breakfast, and the wedding cake – a fine creation by Mrs O's daughter, who had made Sherlock and Molly's wedding cake, too – was also stored in the 'cold room', awaiting the time when it would be wheeled out and put on display, before the Cutting of the Cake, during the evening 'do'.
One of the tutorial rooms had been kitted out as a temporary beauty parlour, complete with a team of beauticians, to provide a professional hair and make-up service for the female guests who wished to avail themselves. Another, slightly smaller, room was similarly equipped as a barbers' salon, providing wet shaves and hair trims for the convenience of the male guests. Mycroft had called upon his own personal barber to provide this service, though he and Sherlock would be served in the privacy of his bedroom.
Arthur's musical Army friends, who had played at Sherlock's wedding to Molly, were performing again – and had offered their services free of charge, as a wedding gift.
The celebrant was due to arrive at ten-thirty a.m., half an hour before the scheduled start of the ceremony – allowing enough time for a quiet word with each of the grooms and an opportunity to answer any last-minute questions they may have about the proceedings. They were unlikely to have any, since Mycroft and Arthur had designed the service themselves, chosen the readings and other elements and written their own vows. This was a civil ceremony, not a religious one, so there would be no hymn-singing but there would be music, notably a harpist who would be playing as the guests assembled in the Great Hall and also during the Champagne Reception and the Wedding Breakfast.
The bedrooms in the East Wing were all made up, ready to receive the non-family wedding guests as they arrived.
So, the stage was set, waiting only for the actors to assume their starting positions, in a few short hours' time.
ooOoo
Sherlock rolled out of bed and stumbled to the travel cot, where Violet was standing, holding onto the side with one hand and clutching her cuddly cuttlefish in the other, howling at the top of her voice.
'Shush-shush-shush, little girl,' he soothed, lifting the infant from the cot and hugging her to his chest. 'Hush now. We don't want to wake the whole house,' he added, jiggling her in his arms to quiet her cries, as he returned to the bed, where Molly was just rolling over and sitting up.
'What time is it?' she asked, rubbing her eyes and trying to focus on her wrist watch but without success.
'Half past six,' Sherlock replied, gruffly, climbing back into bed and placing Violet on the mattress between himself and Molly, so she could see them both.
'Dint, da-da, dint!' Violet demanded.
'Coffee, black, two sugars,' Sherlock replied, in his gravelly morning voice.
'DINT!' Violet demanded, louder and more forcefully.
'How old are you, now?' he huffed, feigning confusion. 'Isn't it time you were getting your own drinks?'
'Here you are, sweetie,' Molly cooed, handing Violet the feeder cup of water that she had prepared the night before for just this eventuality. Violet always woke up thirsty. The eleven-month-old placed her favourite soft toy, carefully, in her lap then took the cup by both handles and put it to her lips, sucking at the spout for several swallows before lowering it again.
'Ta-tu, ma-ma,' she moued, with a happy smile, displaying all eight of the teeth she had acquired so far.
'What time's breakfast?' Molly yawned, taking the cup from Violet before she could tip the remaining contents into the bed, as she abandoned it in favour of 'Wib'.
'Seven-thirty,' Sherlock replied, joining in the yawn. 'Then I'm afraid I have to leave you to it. I'll be attending to Mycroft until after the ceremony.' He turned towards Molly and reached past the babbling infant to card his fingers into his wife's hair.
'That's OK,' Molly smiled back, placing her hand over his. 'Caro and Henrique said they would help with the children. They can't wait to get their hands on them.'
'That's good,' he nodded, then, 'and just in case you thought I'd forgotten…' He slipped his other hand under his pillow and, at the same time, leaned forward to give Molly a bristly pre-shave kiss.
'Happy St Valentine's Day,' he whispered and presented her with a small package, wrapped in bright red paper and tied with a gold ribbon.
She was astonished.
'Wh…who… What…? Since when did we do St Valentine's Day?' she spluttered as she took the gift from him.
'Since today,' he grinned, smugly, very pleased to have surprised her. He turned to Violet, who was clamouring for her share of his attention, gave her a bristly kiss, too, then jumping out of bed and strolling off to the bathroom to take a shower before breakfast. Pausing at the bathroom door, he glanced back to see Molly gaping, like a landed fish, at the object in her hand, and smiled again.
ooOoo
It was a new tradition at Colbert House that, when it was just the family – which naturally included Caro and Henrique – everyone was allowed, if not expected, to come to breakfast in their night wear and dressing gowns. It made for an informal and colourful start to the day and, on this day in particular, it was a welcome low-key precursor to the formality and pomp to come.
Mycroft, the twins and their nannies were already in situ when the Hooper-Holmes family arrived. Caro and Henrique were not far behind. Helping themselves and the children from the sideboard buffet, everyone took their places, amid a lively buzz of chatter. Mycroft, Molly noted, looked well-rested but a little tense. He kept glancing at the chair where Arthur usually sat, now left vacant as everyone took their regular seats.
'Is Poppah not coming to bweakfast?' Charlie asked, also aware of the empty place.
'He's having breakfast with his family,' Katy replied, archly. Katy loved to impart information, especially to Charlie.
'We is his family!' Charlie exclaimed, looking puzzled.
'It's just for today, Charlie,' Mycroft assured him. 'Poppah and I aren't seeing each other before the wedding. It's a tradition.'
'Is it a twadism that I can't see him, neiver?' asked Charlie, seeking clarification.
'No, you can see him. You can go and see him after breakfast, if you like. And you, too, Katy. I'm sure Michele or Sara would be happy to take you,' Mycroft replied.
'I would like that vewy much,' Charlie exclaimed, grinning from one ear to the other. Katy declared that she would, too, and not wishing to be left out, Freddie asked if he could, also. So, that was settled.
The rest of the meal was taken up by the adults – with the exception of Mycroft and Sherlock – working out a complicated rota for supervising the children whilst also getting everyone dolled up for the wedding. As a result, Sara, Molly, William and Henrique went straight from the Breakfast Room to the beauty salon and the barbers, as appropriate, Caro took charge of Violet and the three remaining children went with Michele to visit Arthur and his family, prior to returning to the main House, to prepare for the big event.
With three hours to go before the ceremony was due to start, there was a lot to be done and not a moment to spare.
ooOoo
Sherlock lounged languorously across Mycroft and Arthur's sumptuous bed, while his brother lay back in the black leather chair being ministered to by his personal barber. Mycroft was in a thoughtful mood.
Today was a landmark day on many, many levels. Yes, he was pledging himself to another human being for whatever remained of his natural life but, in truth, he had already done that in his heart. This ceremony was a mere formality. More significantly, he was about to make a declaration of his love for that person, in public.
Mycroft was a deeply private man. Although he had never denied his sexuality, he had never advertised it either and he was not given to public displays of affection. Yet he was about to bear his soul in front of other people, some of whom he had known for many years and some he had never even met before. It was hard to know which of those was the most challenging.
And on this day of days, it was natural that he should be reviewing his life's journey, reflecting on the many conscious decisions and random acts that had led him to this point but also looking forward to what the future might hold for him and his family. He was all too aware how suddenly and irrevocably life could change - the fate of his own parents had taught him that lesson very early in his life. And part of his preparation for today had been to rewrite his will, in order to take into account his new status as a married man.
'I'm leaving the property jointly to both the children,' he said, apparently out of the blue.
'Oh, really?' said Sherlock, in the absence of an opinion on the subject.
'Yes,' Mycroft replied. 'Charlie will take the title, of course, but I expect Katy will actually run the show. She seems to have a taste for it, already.'
'Rather her than me,' Sherlock muttered. He had never had any desire to be involved in the family business of Colbert House Estate. Ignoring his brother's predictable comment, Mycroft went on.
'I've made provision for your family, too.'
'That's not necessary!' Sherlock exclaimed, sitting up, abruptly.
''It's my choice, Sherlock,' Mycroft replied. 'And not intended, in any way, as a reflection of your ability to support your family.'
'Oh, really?' Sherlock huffed.
'Yes, really!' Mycroft snapped back. 'It's my way of evening the score, nothing more.'
Sherlock would have liked to say more but he could hear Molly's voice in his head telling him this was neither the time nor the place to be picking an argument with his brother about his excessive generosity so, instead, he just said,
'Oh, whatever,' and lay back down on the bed, closing his eyes, patiently waiting for his turn with the barber before changing into his wedding suit.
Mycroft couldn't resist a wry smile as he settled back into his reverie.
ooOoo
The relative calm pervading the Holmes family side of the house was in stark contrast to the atmosphere in the Brocklehurst gathering. Arthur's three best Army buddies, who were acting as ushers, had arrived early and the abusive banter had already started to fly.
Unable to choose which of his closest friends should be his Best Man, Arthur had decided to ask his dad to perform those duties, rather than disappoint anyone by favouring one pal over the other two. When Arthur Senior declined to attend altogether, Arthur turned to his brother-in-law, Jim, to fulfil the role and he was honoured to accept.
So, Arthur and Jim, side by side in adjacent barbers' chairs, were also enjoying a wet shave that was anything but relaxing, amid the clamour of voices as everyone talked at once. But the only people who seemed to notice were the two barbers, who exchanged raised eyebrows whilst trying very hard not to damage either of their clients – most especially not the groom.
Arthur picked up on the barbers' discomfort and took control of the situation. Sitting up, he yelled,
'Oi, you lot! Just piss off, will you! I don't wanna have my throat cut on my Wedding Day, for fuck's sake!'
He waved his arms to shoe them all out of the room.
'And shut the bloody door!' he added, then lay back down and looked up at the barber.
'Just tidy everything up a bit, mate,' he said, with a grin.
ooOoo
Next door, in the salon, the first sitting was almost done. Molly and Josie admired each other's reflections in the mirror.
'That colour palette really suits your skin tone,' observed Josie, feeling quite envious of Molly's peaches and cream complexion. 'Your skin is flawless! You hardly need any foundation at all.'
Molly blushed, accentuating her English rose colouring still further. She never knew how to respond to compliments, since she didn't ever feel they were justified. She was about to point out how stunning Josie looked, with her classic looks, shown to maximum effect by the film star makeover worthy of any magazine cover, but she was forestalled by the sudden appearance of Mycroft's housekeeper, Mrs Willis, at her side.
'Mrs Holmes,' she said, 'Master Sherlock asked me to bring this to you,' and she handed Molly a small, transparent florist's box and vanished as suddenly as she had appeared.
For the second time that day, Molly was starring open-mouthed at a gift from her husband, in this case a fresh flower hair corsage of pale yellow freesias and a pure white rose.
'Oh, but I already have a fascinator…' she gulped, lamely, referring to the huge yellow fabric bow that the hair dresser had just fixed to her bun.
'But that will go beautifully with your bow, Mrs Holmes,' the stylist enthused. 'It's just perfect!'
Molly blinked back the moisture that was stinging her eyes and watched as the delicate confection of flowers was removed from its box and pinned to her hair, over the bow. The stylist held up a hand mirror so that Molly could see the finished coiffure. The colours matched exactly.
'You look absolutely gorgeous!' breathed Josie
ooOoo
Back in her bedroom, Molly gave her children the final once-over prior to going downstairs to take their places in the Great Hall, where the wedding ceremony was due to begin in fifteen minutes.
Freddie had asked – no, begged – to be allowed to wear his Disney Princess dress to the wedding but had accepted a compromise. For the ceremony, he was wearing his suit – the one made especially for Sherlock and Molly's wedding - altered by the tailor to accommodate one year's growth. But he would be changing into his Princess Elsa dress for the party, afterwards.
William was happy to wear his tailored suit for the whole day, as long as he could remove his tie and jacket in the evening. His outfit had also been altered to allow for the extra inches he had acquired in his leg and arm length.
Violet, who…
'was at Mummy and Daddy's wedding, inside Mummy's tummy,' Freddie pointed out, helpfully,
…was wearing her brand-new outfit – a dress made from pure white cotton, with a vibrant printed pattern of violets on the over-dress, a matching violet-blue cardigan and headband, both with flower appliques, and ivory satin ballet pumps over white cotton socks. Violet had chosen the costume herself, on a girls-only shopping trip with Molly, demonstrating that she was definitely her mother's daughter when it came to taste in clothing.
Molly's outfit was also floral and equally vibrant in colour – a vintage dress of sunshine-yellow printed fabric that matched the bow in her hair, a pale yellow, fine-knit cardigan, nude leather court shoes and a matching clutch bag, complimented by a fresh-flower button hole from the cold room. The Hooper-Holmes ladies were really rocking the Spring Time look, in sharp relief to the more formal attire of the menfolk.
'Oh, Mummy, you do look lovely!' William exclaimed.
'An' you, Ada! You loot luberly, too!' Freddie agreed.
'Thank you, my darlings!' Molly replied, bobbing a curtsy, 'and you are both very handsome.' Then, hefting Violet onto her hip, she announced,
'Right, let's go to the wedding!'
ooOoo
I'm sure you didn't need me to tell you that Molly's outfit is the one she wore to John and Mary's wedding. She looked so gorgeous in that outfit, it was a no-brainer to put it in my AU. Molly's sense of style is unique and individual and tells us so much about her fun and quirky personality.
