Summer 1889, Enola POV

Over the next few weeks Enola exhausted all avenues searching for the answers to her latest riddle; what exactly did a couple do behind closed doors to create a child?

Well, almost all.

The thought of just asking someone to explain marital relations to her had crossed her mind briefly, but it was quickly expelled by the factor of who. Her mother would be the first choice, were she not in hiding. Mycroft and Sherlock would most likely know, but given they weren't exactly eager to tell her she was being betrothed, the chances they would be helpful would be slim. The Dowager Marquess would probably faint if she even mentioned it. Julia most likely didn't know herself, and aside from Tewkesbury, who had already told her he would tell her in the future, there was no one else she was close enough with to ask.

So, she put her detective skills to use; putting on a disguise to flick through medical textbooks in the British Museum Library, asking odd questions to clients who might be able to lead her in the right direction, and watching the prostitute who had rooms in the building across from hers. But nothing really gave her any clues until the clues from her real detective work lead her back to the lavish parlour of a Mrs Delafield-Thompson.

"Mrs Del… Genie," Enola corrected herself, "I rather think you should sit down before we start."

The stunning blonde woman smiled and then spoke in her thick New York accent. "If you insist, Miss Holmes." She sighed anxiously as she reached out for her companion's hand - a very fair girl she had only been introduced to as Tuppy - who helped her into the armchair across from Enola before scurrying away to the corner of the room.

"Your suspicions concerning your husband were correct, I am afraid." She spoke as calmly as comfortingly as she could manage, "Inspector Lestrade has concurred with my conclusion on the evidence, and is currently adding Mr Thompson's confession so the magistrate can charge him."

Enola picked up her tea from the side table to allow Mrs Delafield-Thompson time to process the information. She clutched at her chest and breathed heavily as if willing herself not to cry.

"He will be sent to Newgate then?" She asked, "Or…" At this point, Mrs Delafield-Thompson's cloudy eyes welled with tears.

"Genie," Enola comforted, placing her hand on the heiress's, "It is most likely that Mr Thompson will be found guilty of unlawful wounding, and imprisoned; no man has been hanged for that in many, many years."

"I am sure you think me a right fool," Mrs Delafield-Thompson chuckled despite herself, "Crying over my husband after he had acid thrown in my face."

"I think no such thing," Enola asserted, "You were married for four years, and you have a daughter together, feelings about a person cannot change in an instant." She was well aware of that fact, her own feelings for her fiancé didn't sneak up on her as much as slowly creep into her consciousness.

"I suppose not," the aristocrat paused in thought, "Did my husband say why he did it?"

"He did," the detective nodded solemnly, "Revenge and money I'm afraid, a tale as old as time."

"I should have known; Paul was so angry when I asked my lawyer to put my father's money in a trust for Minnie if I died before she was of age to marry." Mrs Delafield-Thompson confessed tearily, "But I wasn't going to let him gamble away her dowry and leave her to marry a clerk when she could marry a Lord."

"While I commend you for doing everything you could to protect your daughter," Enola risked, "I did not have a sizeable dowry, and yet I am engaged to a Marquess."

"A Marquess and a detective, I have never heard of such a pairing," Mrs Delafield-Thompson laughed through her tears, "It is just the sort of modernity that I love."

"It certainly will give the papers something to write about," Enola thought aloud, "That is, if they ever put the clues together."

"Talking about clues," the heiress felt around on the table for her purse and pulled out a few coins, "Will this cover your fees."

Enola looked at the coins in shock. "Genie, we've become friends throughout this palaver," Enola confessed, "I would have happily gone on my way with only another look around your marvellous library."

"Nonsense, Miss Holmes, I would never cheat a friend out of a fair wage," Mrs Delafield-Thompson countered as she held out the coins to Enola, "You may take a few books too, I have no use for them."

Enola gave in and took the money, "Thank you Genie," she stood and nodded her head courteously, "I hope we meet again under happier circumstances."

"Of course," Mrs Delafield-Thompson smiled, "You must bring your handsome Marquess to the party I will host to celebrate Minnie's baptism."

Suddenly her companion appeared beside Enola, anticipating her mistress's request.

"Tuppy, please take Miss Holmes to the library, I will call one of the housemaids to take me up to the nursery." She called towards the spot Tuppy had been sitting in.

And as Enola was being led out of the room toward the estate's library, a devious plan formed in her brain. She would have her answers.