Author's note1: A special thanks to the readers who understand the encouragement a writer gets when their work is commented upon. They are the reasons we keep writing and sharing our imaginations, rather than keeping those stories to ourselves.


Thanks VictorianLady79 for beta'ing.


Prince Sherlock left the bedchamber and walked downstairs. Although he had been careful to disguise his feelings from his bride, he was worried. He had never fought a duel before, just observed one occasionally. Mycroft had been involved in a couple of them before he became king, incidences of irate husbands calling him out for bedding their only-too-willing wives. Mycroft might not have been particularly handsome, but he had been the future king and many women had been only too anxious to be with him because of that.

Sherlock's father, King William, for whom he was named, had actually taught both of his sons how to shoot from an early age. Sherlock had really not been interested, being more preoccupied with his books, but the late king had insisted that any son of his must know how to protect himself in the event of an emergency. To please his father, the very young prince had learned to shoot accurately at a target until his father was satisfied. Shooting at a target, however, was not the same as the prospect of shooting another human being.

Finding a footman on duty in the hall, Sherlock inquired as to where he might find his brother.

"The king and queen mother are in the salon, Your Highness," said the young man.

"Do you know where Prince Culverton is?" further inquired the prince.

"I believe he is in his bedchamber, Your Highness." Then he added, "I heard raised voices between the king and prince earlier in the day."

"Thank you," responded Sherlock, making his way towards the salon. Culverton had probably been railing about being outwitted, he thought. Had he told Mycroft of the duel planned for the morrow?

Prince Sherlock entered the salon to find his brother and mother in serious conversation.

The king looked up as he entered. "Sherlock, I am glad you are here. I had thought to have you summoned, although I did not wish to disturb you so soon after your wedding night." He smirked at his brother and the young prince flushed. "I am glad you have saved me the trouble."

"I assume you have heard the story then from Prince Culverton. Apparently you were with him earlier and exchanged words?"

"Yes, brother mine. He informed me that his valet had broken the news this morning to him that the princess's betrothal to you was announced, rather than to myself. He told me he went in search of the princess and found you in her bed."

"That bastard had his whip in hand and struck my wife with it too, before I was able to prevent it," the prince said angrily, and his mother gasped in horror.

"That man is a monster," declared the queen mother. "I am so glad we were able to beat him at his own game."

Sherlock turned to his mother. "Molly and I have been wondering, Mother - was this your plan all along?"

The elderly woman blushed slightly. "Not until I saw the way you looked at her and then pleaded with your eyes for me to deal with Prince Culverton so you could spend time with her alone. Of course, I was certain of your feelings when we had that conversation and you told me how she was interested in the same things as you were and how fortunate Mycroft was to have found such an intelligent woman."

Both the king and prince stared at their mother as she went on. "From that moment, I knew that you, my son, had finally fallen in love and I was determined to make sure you were given the opportunity for happiness." She looked over at her older son. "As for you, Mycroft, I was certain you would have no great problem in relinquishing the princess to your brother, if it meant I would no longer ask you to wed. Indeed, I was certain this was the way things should be done, and I worded the betrothal ball invitation specifically to be ambiguous. It gave me great delight to outwit that odious man."

Prince Sherlock looked at his mother admiringly. Then he kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you. You have given me the greatest gift I could have ever received."

The queen mother beamed. "I would do anything for my boys."

"Your favourite boy at least," remarked Mycroft, rather dryly.

"Nonsense, Myc. You benefit from this too. Now you can continue your liaison with Lady Smallwood without needing to have a wife as well."

"You know entirely too much about what is going on in this castle," said the king, with a wry smile.

"Well, of course I do. I may be an old woman, but I am not dead yet! Now hurry up and let's talk about this duel you just told me about, Mycroft. I'm sure your brother wants to return to his honeymoon." She gave her younger son a broad wink and he flushed again. "I shall be expecting to have a grandson, or granddaughter in nine months from now."

Mycroft snorted. "Let's hope he knows what to do to ensure that happens."

Sherlock scowled. "You certainly told me in enough graphic detail of your past exploits. Anyway, Mother is right, I'd like to get back to my honeymoon, especially in light of the fact I will be participating in a duel in the morning."

"Very well. Prince Culverton has informed me that his valet will be his second. You need to choose one. Also, someone needs to be in charge of counting your paces and telling you when to turn and fire."

"Obviously John should be my second. He is a doctor and would be able to attend to any wounds that might occur."

"If I had my way," interposed the queen mother, "you would shoot that evil man and let him bleed to death."

"He would not die from an arm wound in any case," responded the prince. "Mycroft, will you do the honours of counting the paces?"

"Of course, brother mine. I also suggest Inspector Lestrade be present, in case that man tries anything untoward."

"He wouldn't dare!" expostulated the elderly woman.

"I would hope not," responded King Mycroft. "Nevertheless, it is always wise to be prepared. Sherlock, I shall have word sent to the village that John must be here at five on the morrow. We will go to the field across from the stables. If all goes well, you will have your honour satisfied and Prince Culverton can return home to Bartonia."

"How did you make it known that the princess and I were married last night? By the way, thank you for the meals that were sent to her bedchamber for us."

"I had an announcement sent to the papers, informing them that the two of you did not wish to be married with pomp and circumstance, and had a private ceremony immediately following the ball. I know people will be disappointed, but it was the best way. It also ensured that Prince Culverton had no recourse."

"Molly is fearful of the retribution that may be inflicted upon her mother. Is there anything we can do to prevent that?"

"I informed the prince already that I have my own people close by, within reach of Bartonia. If he dares to step out of line, I will find a way to have him imprisoned for his misdeeds. If it is made public that he abused his step-daughter, people will turn against him and he will be disgraced at the very least."

"Thank you Mycroft," Sherlock said sincerely. "That will ease Molly's mind significantly."

"I am glad to do it. She makes you happy, therefore I am willing to do whatever it takes to make her happy as well." Then the king added, "we shall set out for the field soon after five in the morning. I will have the dueling pistols loaded and ready. Now, go back to your wife and make Mother happy."

"I should like to watch the duel," put in the queen mother.

"Not you too?" asked Sherlock incredulously. "Molly already insisted that she come as well, although I said she ought to stay well away."

"Well of course she did," said the elderly woman without surprise. "She wishes to be with her husband, rather than just await news. I do not blame her. I will stand with her."

"It is all arranged then. Thank you Mycroft. I shall see you in the morning. Good night, Mother."

"I will have a servant call you at fifteen minutes before five in the morning."

Sherlock nodded. He shook Mycroft's hand and kissed his mother's cheek, then return to his wife's bedchamber.

He knocked on the door and called out softly to her, then waited for her to come and unlock it. When she did her eyes were heavy from sleep. She had put on a diaphanous nightgown to cover her nakedness as she opened the door, but it did little to disguise her curves and he was instantly aware that he desired her again. He closed and locked the door behind him, then picked her up in his arms and strode to the bed, laying her gently upon it.

"It is all arranged then...for tomorrow?" she asked, with a note of fear in her voice.

"Yes, my darling," he told her, as he undressed himself, anxious to be back in bed with her. "Now, let us have no more talk of the morning. For now, I just wish to concentrate on you and make love to you."

He began to kiss his wife passionately, wanting to distract her, and himself, from the impending duel. Her nightgown soon joined his clothes on the floor and he kissed his way along her body, delighting in the little moans of pleasure that came from her mouth. He kissed her shoulders, her breasts, her flat stomach, thrilling at her essence, her sweetness until she was gasping for him and crying out, her body convulsing with pleasure from his ministrations. Only then did Sherlock take her for his own once again, loving her, making love to her, until he too reached his own fulfillment in the arms of the woman he loved.

As she lay encircled in his arms and their breathing slowly returned to normal, he kissed her brow. "My precious, wonderful wife. How is it you are real? You evoke such passion within me, it is indescribable."

"You do the same for me, Sherlock. I never dreamed how wonderful it could be to be loved by a man. You are so perfect, in every way."

Sherlock felt his heart swell with love and pride that she felt that way, that he could make her feel that way.

They lay there contentedly for a time, until he said, "By the way, my darling, we were right about my mother. She was instrumental in bringing this about, our marriage I mean. She told me she realized I loved you and she did everything she could to push us together and ensure that we could be happy."

"I will have to thank her," the princess murmured sleepily.

"She will be attending in the morning as well and you can stand together. We will be awoken at a quarter to five, as I must be downstairs by five. You should make sure your lady's maid is ready to dress you. You do not need to come quite as early, the duel is to be at five-thirty. So call her when I get up."

"I will do that," agreed his wife.

He kissed her once again and they slept, entwined in each other's arms.


Author's note: Finally, the proof that the queen mother was pulling the strings all along.

The duel approaches. Any guesses on what you think will happen?