From Winter Winks 221: [Prompt at the end]
There was a wealth of data to be observed wherever people gathered. While there was a whole world to see on their persons- clerks and ink stains and creases in pants from desks and carriages- there was a different layer altogether in how they went about their business. The tilt of the feet meant a great deal, as did posture, weight distribution, eye contact, how they carried their arms, what they carried in them-
Mycroft had about mastered the art. I used to call out the basics of a deduction and be called upon to explain. After that, Mycroft would add another layer to the story, telling of how the host really felt about that single young lady in the corner based entirely on how his shoulders sat. Or, it seemed that way at the time. Facts demystify all, and I saw the parlor tricks unfold until I could repeat them and build ones of my own.
I sat behind the bannister and watched as Mycroft actually attended the parties. He was older, expected to socialize. One day I would be called upon to prove my 'good breeding' too. Until then, I kept a list of observations. Once Mycroft could pry himself from the tedious conversation with enough of an excuse, we could talk. I could tell him I had seen the fact that Major Moncrief had picked up gambling again. My money was on horses, but I couldn't explain why. He would see the little detail I missed.
I learned a year's worth of gossip in twenty minutes peoplewatching. None of it was important, but like Mycroft said, the exercise was its own reward. It certainly went better than pretending to be asleep. I didn't care who Mrs. Abernathy was having an affair with, or that Lady Belmont was strongly considering murdering her husband. She would not follow through with those plans, judging from the defeated looks she kept directing towards the ceiling. She thought no one was looking. That was something else I had observed: someone always was.
The party carried on while I lay on my stomach past the top of the stairs. I was well out of sight, though one pair of eyes deduced where I was. I waved to Mycroft even though he could not see. Christmas parties were no different than the others, with the exception that the guests wore a lot more red and green. At least the atmosphere seemed cherrier than other times. The deductions at Christmas were merrier than the affairs, embezzlers, and misdemeanors during the rest of the year.
One particular party guest interested me for that very reason. She was a pink-faced older girl who had gone through that ordeal of a debut earlier this year. Everyone seemed very pleased about it, while neither I nor Mycroft cared one whit. Girls were very nice, like this one usually was, but they rarely had the same interests. Or wanted to, save for Mathilda Herringford, who had been very interested in different kinds of frogs before her family moved away.
Not this girl. She had a set look in her eyes as she maneuvered through the room. Her movements were very neat, and I supposed that from anywhere but above no one would notice her intent. For once I had one over on Mycroft. He would hardly call it fair for the lack of data on his end. But if he was so unlucky…
Immediately I saw the problem. Whatever her name was- Winnie or Wilhelmina or something- was glaring at my unsuspecting brother's back. She was making a beeline for him, and I had to deduce why before I could warn him. Maybe it would give him enough time to run, or spill wine on somebody. I scanned Winsherface for clues but found none. She wore an ordinary dress, currently fashionable as far as I could tell. Perhaps it was something to do with the hall's mirrors. She checked each one she passed-
Oh! Oh dear indeed.
"Caught under the mistletoe I see, brother mine. Good luck."