Sherlock lay on his stomach on the floor of the third floor nursery. Although he was staring at a book, he wasn't really reading. By the way the floor shook and vibrated, he guessed that Mycroft was coming for him, so he slammed the book shut. Not more than a minute later, Mycroft burst through the door, looking very red in the face and panting like a dog.
"Yes, what is it?" Sherlock prompted.
"Father… you ….the new nanny" Mycroft gasped.
"A new nanny already? That fast?" Sherlock asked. Mycroft nodded, drawing in deep breaths of air. The normal colour was returning to his face.
"Well, we'll just have to give her a little surprise." Sherlock said. Mycroft thought he saw a hint of a mischievous smile on his younger brother's face, but it was gone in less than a moment.
The two boys walked regally down the winding staircase like two gentlemen. They approached the sitting-room and bowed politely when they say Ms. Gaspar. Then Mr. Holmes motioned for them to sit down, which they did obediently.
"This one is Mycroft." Mr. Holmes said, putting a hand on Mycroft's head, "And this one is Sherlock."
"How do you do?" asked Mycroft.
"Very well, thank you." Ms. Gaspar responded, turning to look at Sherlock as if he was to say the same thing.
"I should hope a fine lady such as you had a decent trip? I see you have travelled by a train that left at 6:00 AM. After the train stopped in London, you took a carriage to our house. The roads along that pass are very muddy this time of year. I don't think you are used to such mud, for you were born in America…Boston, perhaps?" Sherlock said.
Ms. Gaspar was astonished. "Those were some lucky guesses, young man. However did you know?"
Sherlock looked Ms. Gaspar right in the eye with a piercing grey stare and said, "I can see the ticket stub that is stuck in your left glove. Your petticoat is spattered with droplets of mud that can only be acquired by going on the pass from the train station by carriage. Your fashion statement is clearly American and you have a distinct Bostonian accent. I do not guess, I deduct."
Mr. Holmes noticed Ms. Gaspar's alarm, for he quietly whispered to Mycroft and Sherlock to "make their way to the nursery now."
While Sherlock walked up the stairs, he heard Ms. Gaspar suggesting "boarding school" and he had "extreme talent." Even though the nanny seemed nice, her peculiar tone and the tiny voice in the back of Sherlock's head told him that something wasn't quite right. It had only been two days since their last nanny quit. Why did she apply so quickly?
Walking up to the library, he had already made up his mind to keep an eye on Ms. Gaspar.
Thank you graceofnight for your review.