Chapter Three: A Case in Point
12th October, 1889
"On my command..." The officer's voice echoed across the wide grassy field as he raised his arm. "Charge!" At once the Queen's Own Special Light Cavalry burst forth, whooping and hollering as they rode out to save the Empire from those who would destroy it. The two small boys and their new commanding officer raced from the steps of the manor house across the sun dappled lawn towards the twin trees that were their enemy, smashing through imaginary foes with great cries of encouragement to one another.
Rounding the birches after countless glorious heroic acts, the Cavalry officer and his small brigade reined their 'horses' in and let out a mighty cheer. The battle and the day won, the twin Thurlow boys bounced up and down in delight at William's feet, Matthew's ever present book waving around in his hand, and Andrew's shirt tails flying from his trousers with the vigorousness of his jumping.
Emerging by Helen's side at the steps, a small foldaway table and two chairs under his arms, Goodwin gazed at the proceedings with a slightly raised eyebrow, and glanced at his young mistress as she stood watching the goings on.
"The Captain seems to be getting on splendidly with Masters Matthew and Andrew," the tall butler observed of the soldier's gusto as he knelt down to plan their next all conquering strategy with his charges. Perhaps informed by his own somewhat 'trying' times in loco parentis, Goodwin sniffed at the full-grown man's natural way with the boys. "It is almost as if he was one of them." Clearing his throat lightly, he returned his attention to his duties. "Where would you like me to put the table and chairs, miss?"
"Over by the trees, Goodwin," Helen replied, a smile on her face at the small army's antics, as they headed down the steps together on the unseasonably warm if changeable October day. "It is good to see them taking to each other so well, isn't it?"
"Yes, miss," Goodwin replied, moving ahead of her in order to put the table down, and watching with some trepidation as the cavalry's latest advance headed towards them.
The mini cavalry charge came to a halt right in front of Helen when their officer, the boys skidding to a stop on either side of him, reined in his imaginary stallion with a cry of "Company halt!"
"Present arms!" came the order and as one, three right arms with invisible swords in hand were raised in salute to the woman before them.
Helen's hand immediately flew up to her mouth to hide her now extremely broad smile. "Oh! Well...thank you," she responded, attempting to appear at least a little serious as she addressed the trio. "Has the rebellion been quashed to the extent that you are now all free to take tea?"
"The dastardly Surat Khan has been vanquished, and the Empire is safe," Matthew intoned gravely.
"Indeed," William added, the upwards tug of his lips belying his most serious of tones. "His forces were routed and his people are enslaved no more." He laid his hands on the boys' shoulders. "Her Majesty's forces fought bravely, emerged triumphant, and most definitely deserve…tea," he finished firmly before brushing some of his unruly brown hair out of his eyes.
Shaking her head and flashing William an affectionate smile, she held out her arm and directed them to the table, and with a loud whoop, Andrew raced for it, nearly bowling over Goodwin as he continued to set up the chairs. Taking one of the light foldable chairs from the butler, William opened it and held it for Helen until she was settled, before seating himself as Goodwin returned to the house for the tea things.
Seating himself beside the soldier, Matthew looked up at the officer, breathless and wide eyed. "Have you seen the Taj Mahal?"
William gazed at him, partially surprised by such an aesthetic question from someone so young, and smiled. "Yes...I have. And it was quite beautiful, especially by moonlight…a beautiful building as monument to a beautiful story."
Andrew was practically bouncing in his chair in excitement. "And have you been in many campaigns? Have you seen an elephant? Or a tiger?"
"I have been in several expeditions against mountain forces," the officer answered with a grin at the boy, his eyes widening as he leaned forward to him. "And...I have ridden an elephant on a man eating tiger hunt!"
Andrew's jaw dropped open, his face almost glowing with awe and respect. "And...did you get him?"
Their guest leaned closer again. "With one shot," he replied with a nod, before sitting back with a chuckle. "I gave the head to the headman of the village it had been terrorizing, but if you come to London with your sister, I will show you its pelt if you like. I brought it home to give to my family as a souvenir."
"Truly?" the boy breathed, before turning to his sister. "When can we go to London, Helen? When?"
Arching an eyebrow at her brother, she shook her head in amusement. "We shall have to see, Andrew. William has a job to do and is quite busy...and I have work to do when I go to London. And there is your schooling..."
"Oh, I am not so busy as all that, and my duties as an aide only take up a little office time at the moment now that the General has gone on holidays with his family." William sat back and winked at the boys. "But your schooling is important. So, I shall set you a challenge - if you excel in two of your subjects over the coming week to the satisfaction of your sister...you may come and see the tiger pelt the next week, and I will give you each one of his claws. What do you say?"
The boys turned to each other then back at him, nodding adamantly.
"Oh, yes please!" Andrew breathed. "Oh, Helen, is that all right?"
Matthew turned to her with pleading eyes. "Please, Helen? If we do good...I mean well?"
Her eyes narrowed just a little as she took in one pleading face and then the other...and even William seemed to be adding to the mix. With a sigh, she shook her head and laughed. "Very well...but I shall be asking Mr. Simmons for a full report at the end of the week," she warned them.
Matthew's face split into a broad smile as he nodded eagerly. "Yes, Helen. But we will do it. I will help Andrew with his Latin."
His twin nodded in response to his brother's words. "And I will pay attention, and not make paper boats! And shall work extra hard on my sums!"
William nodded, and gazed at Helen with a grin. "And I will even tidy my rooms."
"Well, then...how can I refuse?" she returned, her eyes bright and dancing.
Chuckling, William reached out and slipped his hand over one of hers, squeezing it gently before letting go as Goodwin approached with the tea things. "Ah..." He rubbed his hands eagerly, and turned his attention to the boys. "Scones!"
Tea was an entirely enjoyable affair. The boys spent every moment they were not inhaling their food regaling their guest with tales of their exploits and adventures. And as Helen sat back, nursing her cup of tea or nibbling on her apple scone, she listened as William entranced them all with tales from his time in India or simply with local stories and folklore. So much so that when she checked the time on her watch, as Goodwin reappeared to remove the plates and cups, she found that it had been over an hour since they had sat down.
"Well...what do you three have in mind for the rest of the afternoon until Nana Alice returns?" she asked, taking a last sip of her tea, and drawing her light shawl about her shoulders as a hint of the October breeze snaked through the sunshine.
William looked at the boys enquiringly.
"We could build a fort," Matthew suggested brightly. "Hold off the invading Pasha's hordes!"
"And I can defend it with my bow and arrow!" his brother piped up.
Helen immediately raised her hand at that. "Andrew...I have told you, archery is only to be done in under supervision and at the target."
The boy's face fell a little. "But I have gotten much better, Helen! I promise I have!"
Matthew frowned a little. "And it's not your bow and arrow; it's mine!" he huffed, kicking a leg of the table lightly. "You got the chemistry set...and used it all up."
His twin sighed in remembrance. "Yes...poor Mr. Boots...it took him a whole month to grow his fur back..." He shook his head. "But I'm much better at archery."
"And I'm much better at chemistry, but yours was the chemistry set...you kept saying so and wouldn't let me try." Matthew folded his arms pouting a little. "The bow and arrows are mine."
"Boys..." Helen's tone became a little more level. "What have I told you about sharing?"
"But he didn't share!" Matthew gazed at her plaintively, while pointing at his brother. "I told you that, Helen."
"Yes, and that was not kind of him, and he and I will have words about it later. But that does not mean that you must be the same," she returned, arching an eyebrow at Andrew as she spoke, before turning a more sympathetic gaze to the other boy.
Andrew slumped a little in his chair, not looking forward to the lecture he was sure to be receiving later.
Lowering his head a little, Matthew kicked his legs unhappily. "Yes, Helen."
Taking in the rather more sombre tone and the glum boys, William straightened in his seat and looked around with a chipper air. "Bows and arrows, eh? Well, this certainly seems like a nice wide open space. I can teach you boys, if you like...we can do it safely enough out here in controlled conditions," he suggested, before turning to Helen to gauge her reaction.
She gave him a grateful smile, and nodded. "Yes, that sounds perfectly fine...you both can have turns and be supervised. Thank you, William," she agreed.
"Excellent!" he approved, and looked to the boys. "It came with a target, you say?" he asked Andrew.
Starting to smile a bit more, the boy nodded, and turned his eyes to his brother, his tone more conciliatory. "Yes...Matthew knows where it is."
"Goodwin put it in the attic room," Matthew said quietly, and pushed himself off the chair, taking his book off the table. "I'll ask him for it. You get the bow and arrows," he said to his brother, before trudging back up towards the house.
"They're in the big cupboard," Andrew answered, hopping from his chair and running up to catch up with his brother. They talked quietly for a moment before Andrew appeared to say something lively, and both broke into a run and raced to the house.
William watched them go and shook his head with a smile before tuning back to Helen. "They are splendid boys, both of them, Helen. Exactly as you described them."
Smiling, she sat back a little in her chair. "Thank you. I try my best with them, but I know they miss their parents...their deaths were very hard on them."
"It was a tragic accident," he sympathised with a nod. "It must have been a terrible crash."
Her face darkened a moment as she remembered her father slumped over his desk, his blood dripping onto the floor. "Yes," she whispered. "It was."
William caught her expression and sat forward, his voice soft and apologetic. "I'm sorry...that was clumsy of me. It must be hard still for you. I should not have focused your attention on the details like that. Forgive me," he entreated, his warm eyes matching his tone.
Blinking a little, and forcibly pulling her mind from the events of a year ago, she nodded. "It's all right...I do miss him...but I know he is a better place." She sighed and patted his hand. "And there is nothing to forgive, William," she assured him, her tone lightening by the moment.
"With me there is always something to forgive, Helen," he returned with a soft sigh. "With my atrocious penchant for forgetting where I am and not restraining myself and my boisterous awkward ways, I am a man in virtually constant need of absolution." His hand covered hers, his smile returning as he spoke.
She laughed, and shook her head. "Nonsense," she chided him warmly, squeezing his hand. "You are a funny, sweet, decent man, William, and I will not hear of anyone maligning you so...even if it is yourself."
Taking her hands in both of his, he turned towards her and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "A decent man, eh?" he quizzed, looking up at her with a teasing glint in his eye. "Are you so very sure of that, Helen Thurlow?"
Before she had a chance to reply, the hold he had on her hands was put to good use, and with a gentle but firm pull, he drew her forward and down to him, turning his mouth up to meet hers as it descended. A second later, his lips were on hers, moving softly over them, before lightly drawing upon them until the two pairs mingled.
Helen's eyes widened in shock, a million thoughts running through her mind at once until they all seemed to evaporate under the simple touch of his lips on hers. It was warm, gentle, sweet...and sent a heatedly fuzzy glow throughout her body, leaving her giddy as she relaxed into it, her eyes closing, and a hand tentatively finding his shoulder for support as she sank into the heady sensation.
One hand released hers, and strong, gentle fingers brushed lightly over her cheek, moving lazily across the soft sweep of skin, adding tingles of sensation for both of them. Her pliant response sent thrills through him and encouraged him to continue the moment a little longer, until finally, reluctantly, he let his lips slip from hers and drew back slowly, his breath soft but quickened, as he gazed at her with a tinge of wonder.
Her face seemed to be frozen in position for a moment, until her eyes slowly fluttered open, and her fingers touched her lips as though she could not believe what had just happened and desired some physical proof. Assured it was so, her eyes met his, and her cheeks flushed, a tiny smile forming on her face.
As he held her gaze, his fingertips rose to touch her cheek again, doing so tenderly and lingeringly while they sat facing each other in warm, happy silence...a silence that was all too soon shattered by the re-emergence of her brothers from the house, dragging with them the fruits of their search.
"Ah...your pupils return," she murmured, sitting back in her chair.
Inhaling quietly, William looked from their struggles with the large target, back to their sister, and withdrew his hand slowly, an amused if regretful expression on his face. "It seems so."
Standing up, he moved to help them with the large, heavy target they were dragging with him, and they began the process of setting up their archery lane. Eyeing the oversized bow, almost full size and clearly meant for an older, taller child, William moved the rounded straw-filled support about five or six paces away, knowing the boys would not be able to draw the bow with sufficient strength to reach anything further than that distance.
Pinning the circular, heavy paper target on it, and trying hard not to let his eyes return constantly to the boys' sister who was sitting and watching them, he moved back to the twins, beginning by giving them basic instructions on how to hold the bow and aim it. Starting them off, he helped them to aim and draw so as to get them used to the process before finally letting them try it themselves.
"Now, Andrew," he said quietly, "remember what I said -- turn your head slightly, take careful aim, keep your eye on the target, pull the string back towards you slowly...and when it feels right…release!"
With a slight nod, the boy did as instructed, and let out an exuberant cry when the arrow hit the edge of the ring just outside the bull's-eye. "Look, Matthew, look!" he exclaimed.
Matthew grinned at his twin, bouncing a little on his toes, as William rubbed Andrew's already tousled head vigorously. "Good show, Andrew! Excellent...you're a veritable Robin Hood!" the officer enthused.
The boy's eyes gleamed in pride as he handed the bow to his brother. "Yes, I shall free the land from the villainous Sheriff of Nottingham!" he proclaimed.
"All right, Matthew." William lined him up. "Let us see you become William Tell..."
With a nod, and biting his lip, Matthew raised his hands, his face a picture of concentration as he ran over the instructions in his mind. Drawing back the bowstring, a moment later, he released it. The arrow flew through the air and landed halfway between them and the target, sticking into the ground, and leaving Matthew staring at it in consternation.
"Not to worry..." William patted him on the shoulder as he went to get the arrow. "It was only your first try."
Bringing back the arrows, he handed the bow back to Andrew. "Let's go again." Setting him up, Andrew again hit the target, even managing to inch a little closer to the centre, and giggling as he got his hair pushed into his eyes once more by William, his sister's praise in his ears. Matthew did better, but his arrows still fell short, and by the time he had reached his fourth effort, the disappointment was etched deeply onto his face.
About to try again with him, William was distracted by the rumble of wheels and turned his head towards the drive, standing up from where he had been kneeling with Matthew.
"It appears you have more visitors," he commented, glancing at Helen where she sat.
She blinked in surprise, a slight frown on her face, for though her eyes had been keenly watching the contest before her, her mind had been paying only a fraction of its usual attention. The kiss and the man before her had left the rest of her floating in a serene state of fuzzy warmth...only for it to be brought crashing back down to earth at the arrival of unexpected guests. "I was not expecting anyone else today," she replied, rising to her feet before turning back to the others. "I shall see who is here. Please, do not let this interrupt you." She gave Matthew a supportive smile. "I am sure you will hit the target on your next turn," she assured him before heading towards the house.
The rented black and maroon brougham pulled up at the front door of the house and slid to a halt, the gravel crunching under its wheels. Up above, the driver looked back and gave a slight knock. "Here we are, gentlemen, Twin Birches," he informed them, more to rouse them quickly than to tell them that which they did not know.
The two doors on either side opened, and Helen's eyes widened in surprise at seeing John Watson disembark onto the gravel on the side nearest her, leaving her in no doubt as to the identity of the tall figure just visible through the open carriage as he emerged on its far side.
"John," she greeted him, walking up to meet him. "It is good to see you, though I must admit, quite a surprise."
"Helen!" he replied, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze, while breathing in the fragrant fresh air that always existed around the place. "I know; however, I promised Mary I would return your book to you, and drop off some items for the sewing project that you two are being so secretive about. And since we stopped in St. Albans for lunch on our way back to London, and it is such a fine day, I thought I'd avail myself of the opportunity and travel out to you. I hope we are not inconveniencing you?"
Taking the small wrapped box from her friend, she shook her head. "Not at all. I have told you that you and Mr. Holmes are always free to visit here, and I meant it. As you can see, we are taking advantage of this rare good day…we're just on the lawn if you care to join us?"
Walking around the back of the carriage, his cane under his arm, Holmes removed his hat and approached her with a small smile. They regarded each other with complete equanimity, she showing no sign at all that on their last meeting she had been irked with him, and he, no sign that he might even be aware of it if she had. "We would not wish to discommode your guest," he replied as he inclined his head to her in greeting, his sharp eyes moving out to the lawn and the proceedings there before slipping back to her again.
A flash of discomfort shot up her spine at his reference to her beau before she smiled back and shook her head. "I am sure he will not mind," she assured him. "We have been practicing archery...well, William has been with the boys." She blushed a little as her mind flashed again to what he had been practicing with her, their stolen moment beforehand replaying rather vividly. "I mean Captain Edwards. And I am sure he would love to meet you."
"Yes," Holmes said, his eyes moving out towards the uniformed man. Looking back at her once more, he gave her another short smile, and indicated the trio across the grass. "Shall we?" he enquired with a slight bow. "I have always been a great admirer of archery."
Wondering why she suddenly felt a trifle uneasy, she nodded, and inwardly noting some gathering dark clouds, took Watson's proffered arm. "Of course," she replied, and led them back across the verdant gentle slope of the front lawn.
They closed in just in time to hear a shout go up, and see William scoop Andrew up into the air, the boy whooping with delight, his arrow having struck the bull's-eye. Turning around as Helen approached, William carried her brother, who was grinning from ear to ear, to her triumphantly. "Right in the heart of it!" he proclaimed to her, Matthew smiling alongside of them.
Helen smiled widely at her brother. "Congratulations, Andrew! Well done!" she exclaimed, before turning to his brother. "And how was your last shot, Matthew, darling?"
Glancing up at her, his smile faded, and he frowned to himself. Instead of answering her, he turned his eyes to Holmes extending his hand. "Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes. It is good to see you again," he said solemnly.
"Good afternoon, Matthew." Holmes took his hand, and shook it firmly. "It is good to see you both again," he replied, gazing at both boys.
Andrew grinned at the detective, his euphoria at his shot still undiminished. "Hello, Mr. Holmes! Have you been solving more mysteries? Were there any more demonic hounds?"
Helen coughed a little, and turned to the man holding her brother up, the subject of that hound and the pestering it inevitably led to being a perpetual torment to her. "William, this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Mr. Holmes, this is Captain William Edwards. William, you already know Dr. Watson."
"Yes, indeed!" William beamed. "Hello, Doctor; have you decided yet to give me another chance to play you at billiards? I admit you took me by surprise at the club last week," he said, hoisting Andrew to his shoulders, and seating him there casually, much to Andrew's mirth and Holmes's surprise. The young man looked at Helen and Holmes. "The good doctor...showed all the precision of the military surgeon he is."
Helen cocked her head, and arched an amused eyebrow at the medical man. "Indeed?"
Andrew's eyes turned back to Holmes as he watched the adults from a height. "William, Mr. Holmes is good at archery too," he stated, grinning at the detective.
"Is he now?" William smiled and extended his hand to Holmes with poise, his blue eyes taking in the man who had maligned his profession's intellectual acumen, his interest genuinely piqued. "Well, I'm always pleased to meet a fellow enthusiast. Pleasure to meet you in general, in fact, Mr. Holmes. Word of your exploits is even reaching India, you know!"
"The exploits belong to others, Captain Edwards." Holmes took his hand and shook it. "My role is only in the deductions one must draw to piece them together."
Watson sighed almost long-sufferingly beside his friend, as William's brow creased a little in puzzlement at the detective's response, though his smile remained fairly steady. "I see...well...still, jolly good to meet you, Mr. Holmes; some of your deductions have been most impressive. I look forward to talking over them with you...especially anything with...what did you say it was?" He glanced up at Andrew above him with an arched eyebrow. "A demonic hound?"
"Well." Helen stepped in quickly as the hound raised its head again. "Would anyone care for some refreshment?" She turned to her two new guests. "Tea?"
"Tea would be wonderful," Watson replied genially. "However, you must not put yourself out for us."
"Oh, she would never see it that way." William chuckled, and smiled at her. "She is the soul of cordial hospitality itself."
Holmes gaze moved to him, regarding William as he answered for Helen. "Indeed..." he said quietly. "Something we, too, discovered quite some time ago."
Her cheeks flushed a little as she smiled. "Well...I shall return shortly," she responded before turning and heading back to the house, leaving the men alone.
"Have a seat gentleman." William gestured to them.
With a nod, Holmes put his hat and cane down and did just that, as Watson took the chair himself beside him. "So...Captain," the detective began almost immediately, glancing up at him, "Watson tells me you are newly returned from India?"
"Yes..." the soldier replied. "Well...three months now in actuality, but considering the length of the journey home, yes, relatively. I was stationed in Amritsar, in the north. Border patrol, keeping the peace, watching for smugglers -- that kind of thing, at least before I was requisitioned by the General as his aide, in any event. Not keen on the administrative life...but it's only temporary, and there's a promotion waiting at the end of it for me...and a chance of my own command back in India." His eyes gleamed while he swung Andrew down and placed him on his knee as he sat down with them.
"Indeed," Watson affirmed, smiling at the young man as Matthew sat down in a chair next to Holmes. "I am sure you are itching to get back there," he added, his tone a little envious.
"I must admit...as much as I love England, there is a magic to India that is hard to match," William agreed with a smile, thinking on it. "Do not mistake me, gentleman, I will return here when I am older...but for now...India is the place to find all the adventure and romance one could want."
"And yet..." Holmes took the bow from Matthew's hands and examined it. "You seem to have done quite well on that score here in England." He peered along the line of the wood, and tested the tautness of the string.
William regarded first him and then the doctor before lowering his head. "Yes, Mr. Holmes," he agreed with a nod. "In that regard, I have been somewhat fortunate on my return here." His eyes were a deep blue as he raised them again to them. "Marched blindly into it, of course...being a soldier, it would have to be more luck than good planning, eh, gentlemen?"
There was a momentary pause in Holmes's examination of the weapon in his hands at the young man's words before he inhaled and asked quickly, "How precisely did you and Miss Thurlow meet?" Placing the bow beside him, the detective fixed his gaze on the soldier, the very direct question added to by a very pointed look. "If...that is not too intrusive a question," he added without any real care as to the answer, as he sat back comfortably, his medical colleague increasingly less so.
William blinked, but his subsequent smile was genuine, all the more so as his answer would aid in disproving the detective's view of him as typically 'military' without artistic leanings. "At the opera as it happens, Mr. Holmes."
"The opera?" Holmes replied, seemingly more interested than the soldier had expected. Watson shifted a little where he sat as his friend asked, "What presentation?"
"Ah..." William, caught flatfooted by the question, looked suddenly uncomfortable, and flailed slightly. "I think it was the Pucc...no Donizetti. Yes. The one with two warring families...but not Romeo & Juliet. In Scotland...Lucy...Lucia di Lammermoor!" He lit upon it suddenly, smiling sheepishly. "Some wonderful music in it."
"Lucia di Lammermoor." Holmes stilled a little in his chair as he looked at William. "Yes..." he murmured somewhat distractedly. "Yes, it does have some wonderful music...in it. Might I ask, Captain, what theatre you saw it in?"
"Covent Garden," he replied easily. "I was with friends of mine, Sir Roger and Sarah Howley. Roger is an old school friend of mine...we encountered Miss Thurlow by herself that night, and invited her to join us."
"I see," Holmes said after a long moment's silence, during which Watson watched his companion's reaction closely. "How serendipitous for you."
William glanced towards the house, and smiled as he saw Helen re-emerge from the house and start to return to them. "Yes, sir," he agreed softly with a nod, his smile and gaze unabashed and unwavering as he watched her. "I would say, very much so."
Looking from William to Helen to Watson, Holmes rolled his eyes, letting him know in that one gesture that he felt the man was worse in his obviousness of emotion than Watson by miles. Unaware of himself, the younger man moved his eyes to the boys and smiled. "Right! Whose turn was it? Matthew!" He turned to him. "Ready to try again?"
The boy looked at the bow by Holmes's side and then to the detective and doctor before lowering his head. "Yes, I...suppose." He nodded nervously and slid off the seat, taking the bow from Holmes when he offered it to him. "Thank you," he murmured, and walked back to the front of the archery target, glancing back as Helen approached.
"Now..." William put Andrew on his lawn seat, and moved to his brother. "Just relax. Don't worry or think on it too much. Just aim, keep your eye on the target, pull back, and release."
Nodding before glancing back again at the others watching him, Matthew looked at the target and steadied himself. Raising the large bow, he notched the arrow clumsily and aimed before pulling the bow string back. A moment later, the arrow arced through the air and again fell short of its target.
With a quiet sigh, Matthew walked out, and picked up the arrow from where it stuck in the ground, before turning and walking back over to his brother, holding both bow and arrow out to him. "Here, you are," he said with a small smile. "You are much better than I am, and besides, it really should have been yours." Laying them in his lap, he picked up his book.
"No...Matthew, don't give up," Williams said. "We'll try again."
Shaking his head, Matthew gazed at him politely. "No, thank you, Captain Edwards. I'd really rather read...honestly," he replied, and moving away across the grass, sat down cross-legged, opening his book.
Helen arrived at the tail end of the conversation. "Matthew?" she enquired with concern, moving over and crouching down next to him. "Is everything all right?"
Glancing up at her, he gave her a small smile, nodded, and went back to his copy of Ivanhoe, turning the page. Frowning just a little, she kissed the top of his head and moved back to the others with an enquiring expression on her face.
Watching after him, William sighed and sat down. "He doesn't seem quite strong enough, poor lad...that, and he thinks it all through too much. These kinds of sports are instinctive."
Holmes's eyes moved to him swiftly, regarding him intensely for a moment, while his fingers tapped lightly on the table top. "Indeed so? That is a most interesting theory, Captain Edwards," he said, before rising up from the table. "Excuse me."
Walking across the expanse of grass towards Matthew, and picking up an arrow from the ground as he did so, Holmes sat down in front of him cross legged just as the boy was.
"The bow is yours," he observed.
"Not really," Matthew responded, looking up at him. "It was meant for Andrew. It was a birthday mix up. I only really had it because Andrew actually liked the chemistry set, and Helen said he could keep it." He shook his head. "She acted cross, but I think she thought it was funny when he had his mishaps." He glanced up at Holmes again, and smiled. "People like it when Andrew does things like that."
The detective nodded in reply. "Or perhaps she just expects it?" he suggested.
Matthew considered that. "Perhaps."
"You do not think so?" Holmes's eyes turned down to the book the boy was reading.
"I...think that people like people who are like Andrew...and Captain Edwards," the boy mused, glancing over at him. "They are more..." he shrugged, "fun. Even when they get things wrong."
Holmes turned the book around and looked at it, the coloured illustrations of Knights Templar leaping vividly from the page. "You don't believe you are fun?" he asked lightly.
"No...not by myself. With Andrew maybe." He looked at his brother and smiled. "I'm boring really. Not as good at things as he is."
Holmes regarded him closely. "Or perhaps just good at different things?"
Matthew nodded. "But only boring things, like reading, Latin, mathematics, and things like that...not things people take notice of much."
Holmes smiled a little at that, turning a page. "You think that others notice Andrew more?"
"Oh, yes..." Matthew agreed with a smile. "Everyone talks about how good he is at riding and sports and things. Helen and Nana Alice, even Goodwin and the others, they talk about it all the time. Even when he gets things wrong, it's funny and we talk about it."
"And when you get things wrong?"
Matthew's head dipped. "I should do better...I'm..."
"The responsible one?" Holmes finished for him, getting a quiet nod. "The brighter one."
"Andrew is bright!" Matthew's eyes took on a defensive gleam. "He's very bright! He's just not..." He frowned, trying to find the words. "He gets bored. He doesn't work things through."
"He's not as focused as you." Holmes closed the book slowly. "You think more."
Matthew nodded again. "He's more fun...better at stuff like this...he's the best," he said proudly. "That's why he should have the bow."
"You don't think that what you excel at can help you be good with the bow?" The detective leaned back a little and regarded the boy as the small red-haired topped face looked up at him and frowned a little.
"Thinking?" Matthew asked with confusion.
Holmes leaned forward. "There is always more than one way to approach a task, Mr. Thurlow. Some people find it easy to use one method...like Andrew or Captain Edwards. Others...use another way," he suggested with a smile.
Five minutes later, just as Goodwin approached with the tea for the new arrivals, Holmes led Matthew back across to the group. "Andrew?" He looked down at the boy. "May Matthew borrow the bow for one more try?" he asked him.
Andrew looked over in surprise, but his face soon grew delighted, always more content to play with his brother than alone. "Of course, Mr. Holmes."
Helen, who had been watching the two speak from her seat at the table, appeared both impressed and grateful as they took the bow and moved over to the target.
"Now..." Holmes said as he handed the arrow to him, "remember what we talked about."
Taking the arrow with a nod, Matthew looked at it carefully, his fingers running along it slowly. As he peered along the long, straight line of the wood, he moved it to the bow, and notched it.
From where they sat, everyone could see the boy's lips move as he spoke silently to himself before raising the bow and turning his head, just as he had been shown earlier by William. Standing there, he grew silent and took a long breath. Holding it in, he drew back the string as far as he could…held…and let go. The arc on the arrow was shallow and the bolt shot into the target, hitting the ring below the bull's-eye with a firm and satisfying thud.
Matthew's eyes widened and his eyes immediately shot up to Holmes, who nodded at him with an approving smile.
"Well done, Matthew!" cried Andrew, bounding out of his chair, and running over to his brother. "Jolly good!"
Matthew grinned at his brother. "I did it!"
While Watson clapped enthusiastically, Helen rose to her feet and moved swiftly over as well. "Bravo, Matthew!" she enthused, wrapping him in a loving hug before pulling back and gazing at him from arm's length. "Wonderful!"
As William stood from his seat and applauded, calling out his approval with the doctor, a wide smile on his face, Matthew's eyes glittered happily as he beamed at his sister, whose approval clearly meant so much to him. "Thank you, Helen. Mr. Holmes helped me lots." Moving back across to the table, Holmes took his seat again, and poured himself some tea, eyeing the Dundee cake that had been provided with more than a hint of interest.
"Then we must thank Mr. Holmes," she replied, and turned back in the detective's direction, leading the boys over to the table.
Standing in front of him with the bow, Matthew gazed up at Holmes where he sat, a tremendously earnest look on his face. "Thank you, Mr. Holmes." The same tone mirrored his gratitude.
"No need, Matthew..." the tall man replied, putting down his tea. "You did it all yourself." He reached up, and tapped the boy's temple lightly with a smile. "Using this. Remember that."
"I will," he promised, and handing him the bow, turned to give Helen's waist a quick hug before running back to retrieve his book as he chattered and laughed with Andrew by his side.
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes," Helen added, sitting down in her seat next to him. "Whatever you said to him not only raised his confidence, but most certainly aided his skill." Her smile was shy but full of gratitude, the admiring gleam that had disappeared after their last encounter sneaking back into her eyes at his gesture.
Looking back at her, his lips tugged upwards, and he shook his head. "Matthew and Andrew are much alike, but Matthew is, as you have often said, more introspective and sensitive then his brother…more given to intellectualism."
Helen nodded. "Indeed, I think Matthew is more like myself in that respect."
"Quite so," he agreed. "And most intellectual children are often inclined to think themselves less talented than their more gregarious counterparts in the more physical aspects. He always had the skill...but not the correct methods by which to access it."
"Indeed, Mr. Holmes?" William asked. "And what were these methods?"
Holmes's eyes moved towards him. "The antithesis of what you were recommending, Captain. More thought, not less." His reply was somewhat clipped. "Some work on instinct and feeling with conscious thought only the merest of guides as they play off natural talents.
"All too often those who cannot and do not function that way are sidelined because no effort is given to find the way that best suits them. Some of us require more structure, order, and rationality to our actions in order to bring the best from us. So Matthew and I examined what could help focus his mind...the natural straightness of the arrow, the angle of the join between bow and gripping hand," he continued, demonstrating with his own hands, "letting his mind use both as a guide.
"Rather than Matthew following the steps that you had given him, it was obvious to any observer that he was merely mimicking what Andrew was doing, his mind having already conditioned to think that Andrew was naturally better at him at things such as this. Instead of allowing him to do that, I asked him to focus on the steps required."
Listening intently while slicing the cake, Helen offered him a slice, which he took before continuing his homily to the officer.
"We talked about what he might be doing wrong in those steps, and allowed them to play out in his mind before he did them. For instance, in his eagerness to do as Andrew was doing, his hand was jerking slightly before he released, reducing what tension there was in the string, and causing the arrow to fall short. He rectified that and increased his power. He also mentioned that he thought the breeze might be pushing one or two of Andrew's shots...a remarkably astute observation for one so young..." he said, his tone impressed. "I imagine he made an adjustment or two in his head. In essence, we observed the science and logistics of the process...not the instinct."
William chuckled. "A most unusual method of approach."
"Unusual, Captain? Some might think so, I suppose. It is not one advanced by many conventional schools of training, but one which I have found more than adequate."
Watson accepted his cake with a nod and smile, his eyes fixed on the two men before them and their exchange, as Helen cut another slice and handed it to William with a smile.
"Thank you," the soldier replied with a nod to her and turned back to Holmes. "Adequate or proficient?" he pressed, his expression intrigued.
Holmes paused, the cake hovering near his mouth, until he put it down again on his plate. "Would you care to test it?" he inquired.
The officer smiled at the idea and looked to the darkening sky, assessing the light. "One round each at fifteen paces?" he ventured.
Watson's brow creased slightly. "Holmes..." he started.
The detective regarded the bow. "Come, Captain! Let us make it a fit distance for men to shoot at...twenty at the least."
"Done!" William agreed, and stood up, walking over to start pacing out the new target, while the twins followed in his wake, excited at this sudden turn of events.
Looking to his friend, Holmes raised an eyebrow. "Something amiss, Watson?"
The doctor sighed, for he knew his friend's competitive streak far too well. "Nothing, Holmes," he replied, while Helen watched the two men in mystification.
Moving to take the bow, Holmes moved to the point from which William had begun, and with his heel, marked out a line in the lush grass. As the officer returned, the tall man politely offered him the bow. "Would you care to take the first turn, Captain?"
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes." William smiled, the gleam in his eyes one of enjoyment born of confidence. Almost before anyone had had a chance to organise themselves for this impromptu contest or even comment further upon it, he had pulled an arrow from the ground, set himself, drawn the bow, and let fly, the arrow hitting the bull's-eye dead centre.
The boys gaped at the speed and accuracy of the shot, and stared up at the officer in admiration. "You hardly took any time at all, sir!" Matthew breathed.
William favoured him with a grin, turning to address Holmes as he spoke, his words a warning of sorts. "Practice, Matthew. I've been shooting since I was in school."
Holmes took the bow with a completely unperturbed nod of his head, and promptly handed it to a startled Watson before, with an apology to Helen, he removed his frock coat and, working in shirtsleeves, retrieved the weapon along with another arrow from the ground.
Helen merely nodded, her eyes fixed on the display before her, her face a mixture of pride in her beau and anxiety on how this impromptu tournament would end.
In marked contrast to the effortless speed and simplicity of William's style, the detective's movements were, if not exactly slow, then certainly deliberate, graceful, and above all, thoughtful. The outcome of it, though, was exactly the same -- his arrow notching itself in the target right alongside the officer's.
"Another five paces?" Holmes enquired, glancing at his fellow archer, who nodded and moved to do just that, before returning with the arrows and embedding another one right back in the same spot he had take it from. "You are a fine shot, Captain Edwards," the detective observed as he moved to take up his position. "I note you are not in the habit of allowing your thoughts to inform your actions."
William regarded him with amusement. "Not in matters such as these, Mr. Holmes. And I remind you that oft times too much thinking is as bad as too little…he who hesitates is lost after all."
Holmes moved through his regime for shooting, concentrating serenely before his arrow once again joined the younger man's. "Yes, Captain," he agreed without looking at him, the boys running to retrieve the arrows eagerly. "And he who leaps before looking?"
"Sometimes, sir…" William replied, "one finds that one flies."
The tall man smiled a little as he handed him the bow, his eyes going to Helen behind the officer. "Perhaps. More often, however, one simply takes a heavy fall."
Helen's brow furrowed a little more, her posture stiffening slightly at the remark. She glanced over at Watson as Holmes enquired, "Another five paces?"
"But…Holmes…" Watson said quickly, only to have to sublimate his next thought with a sigh on seeing Holmes move off to take the target further back himself. The new addition to the length made little difference, and soon two arrows were again nestled side by side.
Wide eyed, Matthew turned to his twin, who was gleefully clapping his hands as Holmes's arrow quivered to a halt. "It's just like Robin Hood in the contest for the Golden Arrow!"
Andrew nodded. "Yes! Yes! Captain Edwards is the Earl of Locksley, risking all to get the great prize from the hand of the beautiful Maid Marian…" He ran to his sister, and pulled her closer. "But is up against the Sheriff of Nottingham's man!" He pointed to Holmes, who looked over at Watson with an arched eyebrow at the unfortunate comparison.
"Another five?" he said, still gazing at his friend, whose own eyes widened at that.
"But, Holmes, surely you must…" Watson began only to be cut off by the trim waistcoat-clad detective.
"Captain Edwards?" Holmes turned back to the officer.
William, vastly amused by both the boys' analogy and the respective casting, nodded cheerfully. "Of course…I have a golden arrow to win before I return to Sherwood after all."
The detective merely smiled, handed him the bow, and went to move the target back once more before returning.
"Captain Edwards…" Watson took an insistent step forward, only to be stopped by the sight of William, once again in swift mode, notching his arrow and taking aim. A look of supreme confidence on his face, the officer narrowed his eye, homing in on the target, and in silence broken only by the rising wind moving through the birches, drew back the bow.
The loud cracking sound could be heard quite clearly by everyone as the wood of the bow, large in size but still essentially a child's toy, straining under the power required to get the distance involved, snapped right in two, the bow falling apart in an aghast William's hands.
Watson first cringed, and then shook his head slowly, turning away as precisely what he had feared came to pass.
Helen's hand flew to her mouth as she inhaled in initial surprise. However, upon seeing the pieces in her beau's hands, she pursed her lips and looked at both of the supposedly grown men before her. "Are you both satisfied now?" she ejaculated, her voice full of exasperation for their interplay. The young twin owners stood with their mouths gaping, appalled as their toy was reduced to kindling, and William swallowed, looking at them with mortification.
"Indeed," came a quiet voice from behind Helen. "It seems no one shall be the winner today."
William's mortification grew all the more when he, as startled as everyone else by her sudden appearance, glanced to the speaker and caught sight of the woman whose features marked her out unmistakably as Helen's mother. The person he had been most intent on impressing, and the person who was gazing at him in a manner so penetrating as to be discomfiting.
Stifling an inner groan, William dragged his eyes back to the boys and knelt down beside them on one knee. "Matthew…Andrew…I'm…my apologies, boys. I'm afraid I quite forgot that this was not meant…" His shoulders slumped a little. "I shall make it up to you, I promise. I shall buy you both new ones…"
"We both shall," Holmes interceded levelly. "Twin bows, sturdier than this, and more suited to you…with quivers to carry your arrows." He gazed down at the officer. "After all, there was more than just one person involved."
William looked up at him and nodded gratefully before rather lamely handing the boys, whose expressions had rapidly turned gleeful at the offer, back the bow, and turned to face Helen and her mother with some trepidation.
The young woman's lips were pursed, her arms folded across her chest, and her gaze full of annoyance at the two men, though she seemed to relax just a little at the boys' reactions to the proposed replacements. Meanwhile, her mother stood behind her, hands serenely folded as her amber eyes took in the scene and group before her.
"Fascinating match," she observed, her voice soft and lilting without the least hint of being irked. "I have never seen such two evenly matched opponents."
William stood uneasily before her. "Yes...I suppose it was an interesting duel, ma'am...if on reflection, somewhat ill advised." He gave a nervously jerky bow. "Mrs. Thurlow. My compliments, ma'am...I'm William Edwards, and I'm afraid my first impression has been rather...unfortunate."
"Just a little," she agreed, inclining her head in greeting, the light in her eyes rather amused. "However, I find first impressions are not always the correct ones...so let us start anew, shall we?"
The young man's smile was gratefully lopsided. "Yes, thank you, ma'am," he replied before giving Helen an apologetic look.
"Mr. Holmes...it is good to see you once more," Alice continued, turning to the detective. "How have you been faring?"
"Well, Mrs. Thurlow, thank you." Holmes approached the table. "Contentedly busy, and you?"
Her gaze continued to pierce into him, though her answer was amiable. "The same...my charity work is keeping me agreeably active while allowing me to give back a little to those in unfortunate circumstances."
"A worthy and rewarding endeavor, I'm sure," he replied.
"Indeed," she agreed, before shifting her attention to the doctor, a friendly smile on her face. "Dr. Watson, it is so good to see you, though unexpected...I had not thought I would see you until next week."
Watson returned her smile, and moved to take her hand. "I had some items my wife asked me to deliver to Helen, and she most kindly invited us to stay for tea. Though we should depart..."
"Nonsense, my dear Doctor!" she interrupted, patting his hand. "You and Mr. Holmes are more than welcome to stay...though these clouds herald rain, I fear, so perhaps we should all repair inside, and prepare for dinner? Andrew and Matthew will need time to wash." She eyed the almost ever present smudge of dirt on Andrew's face.
"Well..." the doctor hesitated, glancing over to Helen, who was talking quietly with William. "We would not want to intrude..."
"We would be delighted, Mrs. Thurlow," Holmes replied from where he stood, surprising his friend greatly. "The ten fifteen to Paddington is just as easily caught as the six ten. Thank you for the kind invitation."
Watson swallowed, and nodded. "Yes..." He shot a look over to his friend and backpedaled. "We'd love to."
"Excellent," the older woman replied, her gaze again fixing on Holmes for a moment, the quirk of her lips enigmatic, before turning to the boys. "Off you go," she instructed them kindly, and with quick grins, the pair ran off to the house. "Now...Helen, gentlemen...let us head indoors...the rain feels quite imminent." And with that she turned and glided back to the house, followed by William and Helen.
Remaining behind for a moment, a preoccupied Watson retrieved the broken bow from the ground where the boys had discarded it, placing it on the table beside where Holmes was standing,
"You know, Holmes," he addressed him quietly. "Considering how much time you spent examining this bow earlier, it seems rather hard to fathom, given your powers of observation…that you did not know of its limitations."
"Oh?" Holmes enquired, slipping his coat back on, his eyes on the sky and the darkening clouds.
"Yes…" Watson tapped the table top lightly. "If I didn't know better, I would almost say…"
The detective quickly turned his head to fix his gaze on him. "What, Watson?"
The doctor took a deep breath. "That you engineered the outcome."
Holmes stared at him before he began to laugh. "Why, Watson, I know I encourage you to develop your imagination, but pray do not let it run away with you entirely! Engineer? To what end, my friend? To what end?" He laughed again, and moved off after their hosts.
"Yes…" Watson murmured to himself, watching him go. "Precisely."
Authors' Notes: Welcome back! It's Friday, and that means its update time here! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and thank you again to everyone that read and/or reviewed. And please continue to let us know what you think!
There are not many questions this week...in fact, none! (is very amazed) We are both thrilled everyone is loving Mr. Holmes and his behaviour...yes, he was a bit snarky last chapter...heh...
On that note, I must toddle off to finish editing chapter four and get it to the beta. I would also just like to thank her again for her marvelous editing talents and for the giving of her time. Till next week, mes amis...we shall see you all at...The Wessex Cup! Hugs - Aeryn