Well, here's chapter three! I hope you all like this and welcome any
suggestions as to her past! I have a few ideas but am not sure about which
one to go with.
Particular thanks go to:
Chapter Three: To find a book in a library is not as simple as it seems.
We searched [entomology?] for an hour, pulling out books with similar titles for Miss Demarcier to examine endlessly. Holmes became rather interested, and began to flick through one or two 'checking for poison', as he claimed. At the end of that hour, we had found nothing, and had to conclude that either it had not yet been returned, or had been thrown away. Holmes then led us to the enquiries desk, to see if we could find out who had taken the book out.
"How may I help you?"
The librarian was an elderly gentleman, in his late sixties, but still sprightly. He beamed at Miss Demarcier, obviously flattered by her prettiness. "We are hoping to discover if you have the title 'Beekeeping for pleasure and interest' in, or if a friend of ours has taken it out?" Holmes spoke up, upsetting the old man a little by is abruptness. Miss Demarcier took over quickly, before he could fluster the man any more.
~ Evelyn Demarcier's Point of View~
Men will mess up the least difficult task, while easily completing things totally beyond me, I find, and Sherlock Holmes was in no way an exception. "We came to you because you looked to have such an extensive knowledge of this dear library. Could you please help us? My friends are not too familiar with that section, and we need an expert."
God help us, I could see his chest puffing out as I spoke.
"Dear lady, it would be a pleasure. Let me check the records."
In five minutes, we had it. "A Mister Terence Donnelly has it- is he your friend?" Holmes and Watson shared a surprised glance, and looked at me. "No- oh I am sorry, I have wasted your time." I managed to seem disturbed by this (it wasn't hard) and he patted me on the arm, reassuring me. We left in a hurry.
Outside, Holmes dragged me and Watson to a hansom cab and helped us inside- I seemed to have been accepted as part of the investigation for the moment. "Simpson's, driver!" He gave the order, and then sank into thought again. I pitied Watson who had to deal with Holmes anti-social nature upon a regular basis, but could see why he stayed. It was like that riddle about the girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead- when he was nice, he was very, very nice, but when he was bad he was awful!
We arrived at Simpson's within ten minutes, and to our surprise, and my nervousness Holmes began to lead us into an alley. To my grateful thanks, Watson drew Holmes back with a cry of 'really, Holmes!' I could see the Great Detective was not thinking about how my reputation would suffer if I was seen going into an alley with two men. Thank god for Watson, the dear man. Holmes paused irritably "What is it, Watson?" "Holmes, Miss Demarcier cannot possibly." Light dawned in his eyes. "Ah. I see the dilemma Watson. You shall remain here with her, while I proceed."
I couldn't deprive Holmes of his friend, who might be needed, especially in such a disreputable place. "Nonsense, Mr Holmes. I shall wait for you in the small café opposite. Be sure to return promptly, though- I fear for you in a place such as that."
I pointed to the alley, where we could see drunks and taverns everywhere, the stench of alcohol strongly drifting into the busy street we were on. Watson smiled and thanked me for my concern, patting his pocket reassuringly. I felt glad he was carrying some sort of weapon and smiled in return. They left, and I walked over to the café and sat with a glass of iced tea- they might be a while.
It turned out to be a correct guess, half an hour later they returned, Watson's hand covered in blood and Holmes much scruffier than before, carrying a battered book. I leapt up and obtained warm water, antiseptic fluid and bandages from the management as they sank into seats, exhausted.
"Here, Doctor Watson, allow me."
He gratefully held out his hand and let me gently bathe and bandage it. He had a jagged scratch, fairly deep, running from below his forefinger to his wrist bone. It was bleeding profusely, and as Holmes ordered them both brandies, I optically searched him for injuries. Apart from a small scratch on his neck, the blood from which was staining his shirt, he seemed all right.
"Mr Holmes, may I bathe that? Its staining your shirt."
I pointed out, a trifle nervously. Watson was sipping his brandy with a peaceful expression on his face, and Holmes looked at me searchingly before nodding sharply and inclining his head away from me so I could dab at it with the cloth. As my fingers brushed the sensitive skin at his neck, I found myself enjoying the contact. Only Giorgio allowed me to do simple things such as hold his hand and ruffle his hair, and I found myself starved for the human touch. I stopped quickly, and sat back down, hoping I wasn't blushing.
"Mr Holmes, did you find it?" He looked at the book, and gave a triumphant grin. I found myself wanting to smile along with him and Watson- to share their success. So I did. "In a dumpster a little way away. Watson cut his hand on some glass while we were searching for it. They took some pains to hide it, but we found the book relatively unstained. We shall return to Baker Street where I shall analyse the poison in a few moments."
I hoped the 'we' included myself. Watson smiled, obviously understanding what I was about to ask, and anticipating the question. He had clearly picked up more from his roommate than he let on. "If you would be so kind as to allow us to escort you home, it would be an honour. Sherlock may be up all night with his chemicals, and you must be tired. I promise we shall inform you as soon as we know more?"
He was going to make a great husband some day. I smiled and agreed, if a little unwillingly. They walked me to my house, where my landlady invited them in for a cup of tea. Surprisingly, Watson accepted, while Holmes went to begin his experiments. I soon discovered it was his curiosity that led him to do so.
"Miss Demarcier, I have to say that I wonder how a woman with such a good position in life, and with such intelligence and beauty is living alone and unwed?" This is where things got tricky. "Actually, Doctor, I do not live alone. I have a spaniel named Duke who is at present with a friend." I sipped from my tea, and smiled warmly at him. "I have no family, Doctor Watson." "John, please." "John," I amended "unfortunately, they all died when I was but a girl, in an accident at sea."
So what did you think? Let me know please, and make a girl ecstatically happy! Thanks to Scarlet Rose: Please keep telling me what you think, your opinion is valued! I am trying now, especially with the format, but I'm not used to it, so please bear with me while I figure it out? Thanks for your support! March Hare: Thankyou for your review, I did mean as a romance, the canon will always be my true love. * chants * The canon shall always be my guide.
Particular thanks go to:
Chapter Three: To find a book in a library is not as simple as it seems.
We searched [entomology?] for an hour, pulling out books with similar titles for Miss Demarcier to examine endlessly. Holmes became rather interested, and began to flick through one or two 'checking for poison', as he claimed. At the end of that hour, we had found nothing, and had to conclude that either it had not yet been returned, or had been thrown away. Holmes then led us to the enquiries desk, to see if we could find out who had taken the book out.
"How may I help you?"
The librarian was an elderly gentleman, in his late sixties, but still sprightly. He beamed at Miss Demarcier, obviously flattered by her prettiness. "We are hoping to discover if you have the title 'Beekeeping for pleasure and interest' in, or if a friend of ours has taken it out?" Holmes spoke up, upsetting the old man a little by is abruptness. Miss Demarcier took over quickly, before he could fluster the man any more.
~ Evelyn Demarcier's Point of View~
Men will mess up the least difficult task, while easily completing things totally beyond me, I find, and Sherlock Holmes was in no way an exception. "We came to you because you looked to have such an extensive knowledge of this dear library. Could you please help us? My friends are not too familiar with that section, and we need an expert."
God help us, I could see his chest puffing out as I spoke.
"Dear lady, it would be a pleasure. Let me check the records."
In five minutes, we had it. "A Mister Terence Donnelly has it- is he your friend?" Holmes and Watson shared a surprised glance, and looked at me. "No- oh I am sorry, I have wasted your time." I managed to seem disturbed by this (it wasn't hard) and he patted me on the arm, reassuring me. We left in a hurry.
Outside, Holmes dragged me and Watson to a hansom cab and helped us inside- I seemed to have been accepted as part of the investigation for the moment. "Simpson's, driver!" He gave the order, and then sank into thought again. I pitied Watson who had to deal with Holmes anti-social nature upon a regular basis, but could see why he stayed. It was like that riddle about the girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead- when he was nice, he was very, very nice, but when he was bad he was awful!
We arrived at Simpson's within ten minutes, and to our surprise, and my nervousness Holmes began to lead us into an alley. To my grateful thanks, Watson drew Holmes back with a cry of 'really, Holmes!' I could see the Great Detective was not thinking about how my reputation would suffer if I was seen going into an alley with two men. Thank god for Watson, the dear man. Holmes paused irritably "What is it, Watson?" "Holmes, Miss Demarcier cannot possibly." Light dawned in his eyes. "Ah. I see the dilemma Watson. You shall remain here with her, while I proceed."
I couldn't deprive Holmes of his friend, who might be needed, especially in such a disreputable place. "Nonsense, Mr Holmes. I shall wait for you in the small café opposite. Be sure to return promptly, though- I fear for you in a place such as that."
I pointed to the alley, where we could see drunks and taverns everywhere, the stench of alcohol strongly drifting into the busy street we were on. Watson smiled and thanked me for my concern, patting his pocket reassuringly. I felt glad he was carrying some sort of weapon and smiled in return. They left, and I walked over to the café and sat with a glass of iced tea- they might be a while.
It turned out to be a correct guess, half an hour later they returned, Watson's hand covered in blood and Holmes much scruffier than before, carrying a battered book. I leapt up and obtained warm water, antiseptic fluid and bandages from the management as they sank into seats, exhausted.
"Here, Doctor Watson, allow me."
He gratefully held out his hand and let me gently bathe and bandage it. He had a jagged scratch, fairly deep, running from below his forefinger to his wrist bone. It was bleeding profusely, and as Holmes ordered them both brandies, I optically searched him for injuries. Apart from a small scratch on his neck, the blood from which was staining his shirt, he seemed all right.
"Mr Holmes, may I bathe that? Its staining your shirt."
I pointed out, a trifle nervously. Watson was sipping his brandy with a peaceful expression on his face, and Holmes looked at me searchingly before nodding sharply and inclining his head away from me so I could dab at it with the cloth. As my fingers brushed the sensitive skin at his neck, I found myself enjoying the contact. Only Giorgio allowed me to do simple things such as hold his hand and ruffle his hair, and I found myself starved for the human touch. I stopped quickly, and sat back down, hoping I wasn't blushing.
"Mr Holmes, did you find it?" He looked at the book, and gave a triumphant grin. I found myself wanting to smile along with him and Watson- to share their success. So I did. "In a dumpster a little way away. Watson cut his hand on some glass while we were searching for it. They took some pains to hide it, but we found the book relatively unstained. We shall return to Baker Street where I shall analyse the poison in a few moments."
I hoped the 'we' included myself. Watson smiled, obviously understanding what I was about to ask, and anticipating the question. He had clearly picked up more from his roommate than he let on. "If you would be so kind as to allow us to escort you home, it would be an honour. Sherlock may be up all night with his chemicals, and you must be tired. I promise we shall inform you as soon as we know more?"
He was going to make a great husband some day. I smiled and agreed, if a little unwillingly. They walked me to my house, where my landlady invited them in for a cup of tea. Surprisingly, Watson accepted, while Holmes went to begin his experiments. I soon discovered it was his curiosity that led him to do so.
"Miss Demarcier, I have to say that I wonder how a woman with such a good position in life, and with such intelligence and beauty is living alone and unwed?" This is where things got tricky. "Actually, Doctor, I do not live alone. I have a spaniel named Duke who is at present with a friend." I sipped from my tea, and smiled warmly at him. "I have no family, Doctor Watson." "John, please." "John," I amended "unfortunately, they all died when I was but a girl, in an accident at sea."
So what did you think? Let me know please, and make a girl ecstatically happy! Thanks to Scarlet Rose: Please keep telling me what you think, your opinion is valued! I am trying now, especially with the format, but I'm not used to it, so please bear with me while I figure it out? Thanks for your support! March Hare: Thankyou for your review, I did mean as a romance, the canon will always be my true love. * chants * The canon shall always be my guide.