By the time Irene and I had returned to Baker Street from our meeting with Mr. Mycroft Holmes, and resumed the guise of Albert and Victoria Drebber, we were running late for lunch with Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Watson. However, a young woman who worked for the landlady greeted us at the door and led us down into Mrs. Hudson's personal apartments. We passed through a cosy sitting room, into a small, well-kept dining room. There, we found Mrs. Hudson sitting across from a dainty young woman, modestly but fashionably dressed. Between them were several platters of little sandwiches, now partially depleted.
"Our apologies for the delay," I said as the ladies stopped mid-conversation and turned to see who had intruded upon their luncheon.
"Don't worry yourself about it," Mrs. Hudson said, standing to greet us. "I'm glad you could join us."
"Thank you for inviting us!" Victoria exclaimed. To Mrs. Watson, she said, "It's so nice to meet you!"
"The pleasure is mine," Mrs. Watson replied graciously.
"Do have a seat," Mrs. Hudson said.
Victoria complied, sitting down across from Mrs. Watson, and I took the open chair at the foot of the table, out of the ladies' way. We busied ourselves with filling our plates with light luncheon fare as Mrs. Hudson filled our glasses.
"What brings you and your husband to London?" Mrs. Watson asked.
"We're on holiday," Victoria explained, still a little breathless from our hasty arrival. "This is where we met and it's been such a long time since we've been back, hasn't it dear?"
"Much too long," I said with a benign smile.
"What do you do for work?" Mrs. Hudson asked me - it seemed I could not escape the conversation so easily.
"A lawyer, though while I'm on holiday, I prefer not to think about it."
"That's a good philosophy," Mrs. Watson said.
"Yes," Victoria said with a smile at me, "it serves the both of us well."
"How is Dr. Watson doing?" Mrs. Hudson asked Mrs. Watson.
"Oh, he's fine."
"What's it like," Victoria interrupted, "being married to the famed Dr. Watson?"
Mrs. Watson sighed. "He's lovely, really," she said with a fond smile, but it didn't last long. "He's just a very busy man."
"Doctors are always on call, aren't they?" Victoria said kindly, more subdued than I had seen her.
"His practice must have expanded since Mr. Holmes left for France," Mrs. Hudson remarked.
"He has also returned to writing," Mrs. Watson said.
Though Irene must have been keenly aware of it, Victoria seemed not to notice Mrs. Watson's reluctance and eagerly exclaimed, "I uniquely adored 'A Scandal in Bohemia' and I have been dying to know what happened to Mr. Holmes and Miss Alder."
Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Watson both stopped, stunned into silence.
"Victoria," I admonished, and turned to the others. "My apologies."
"I'm sorry, that was improper, wasn't it," Victoria said sheepishly.
"It's all right, my dear," Mrs. Hudson said.
Even Mrs. Watson cracked a smile. "You're hardly the first to ask. We've even gotten visitors from a few low brow papers asking about Mr. Holmes's relationship with Miss Adler." She turned to Mrs. Hudson. "Do you know if he has seen her since?"
"As I keep telling the papers, it's Mrs. Norton now - she is married after all - and gone off to America too," Mrs. Hudson said with a touch of impatience. "Any interest Mr. Holmes may have had in her was purely professional, though sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't do him good to settle down. If you'll pardon my saying it, I sometimes wonder what Dr. Watson was thinking when he published that 'Scandal in Bohemia,' with all the attention it's brought to Mr. Holmes's door."
Mrs. Watson bristled at Mrs. Hudson's words. "John meant it as a compliment, the highest one he could give. He did everything he could to preempt speculation, how was he to know that people wouldn't listen? And maybe he also secretly hoped that Mr. Holmes might finally meet his match."
"Does Dr. Watson still solve cases with Mr. Holmes?" Victoria asked.
"Not often, no," Mrs. Hudson said sadly.
Mrs. Watson's lips twitched into a frown. "They exchange letters, but I can tell that it's not the same," she admitted. "I am almost sorry that Mr. Holmes is away in France."
I confess that after that my attention wavered as Victoria eagerly changed the subject to an avid discussion of neighbourhood gossip. Eventually they all finished eating - I had little else to do, so I had long since cleaned my plate - and Mrs. Watson made to depart.
"Mrs. Drebber," she said as we all stood to see her to the door, "I must be going, but would you and Mr. Drebber like to come over one evening for dinner with my husband and I?"
"You really mean it? I wouldn't wish to impose, I know I'm just a reader, not a personal friend or anything," Irene let the words tumble out in Victoria's eager surprise.
"I'm certain John would appreciate meeting someone so touched by his writing."
"Thank you so very much! Albert, what do you say?" Victoria glanced at me, her expression so hopeful, it was almost pleading.
I chuckled. "I would like to meet the famed Dr. Watson as well. We would be honoured to accept your invitation."
"It's settled then, I'll talk to John and send a note to confirm the day. It was a pleasure to meet the both of you. And thank you, Mrs. Hudson, for an excellent luncheon and a friendly ear." With that Mrs. Watson left and we prepared to follow shortly after.
"It was very kind of Mrs. Watson to invite us for dinner," Victoria said as she gathered her hat and scarf.
"Yes, it was, "Mrs. Hudson said. "I shouldn't be so hard on the poor girl. Dr. Watson has been an excellent companion to Mr. Holmes, a difficult man who I must say has been in dire need of a friend, but I confess at times he seems a less than attentive husband." Mrs. Hudson abruptly remembered herself. "But it doesn't do to make idle chatter when there's work to be done. Thank you for coming to lunch."
"Thank you very much for having us," Victoria said. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Not at all, enjoy your holiday."
"Thank you," I said, and then, at last, we returned to our flat.
It was Irene who joined me again in the sitting room. Despite her costume, she looked distinctly like herself as she strode inside and declared, "That settles it."
"Mrs. Watson did have a lot to say, Mrs. Hudson too," I acknowledged, though I did not bother to hide the uncertainty in my tone.
Irene gave me a sceptical look and explained, "Mrs. Watson wouldn't hire anyone to investigate her husband and has no suitors to speak of."
"Your powers of perception are remarkable as always."
"Yes, I was actually listening to the conversation."
"I heard some of it," I insisted.
"Really?"
"Yes, Mrs. Watson lamented how her husband is often preoccupied between his work as a doctor and his writing, and she appeared uncertain about his friendship with Mr. Holmes. From what I heard, it seemed not so unlikely that she might seek the ear of a man such as Colonel Moran."
Irene shook her head. "She is a very loyal woman; you at least heard her defend her husband's forays into literature, even as they trouble her. And she knows how much Mr. Holmes means to Dr. Watson. She would not risk anything that could harm him."
I could but acquiesce to her superior reasoning. "But then where does that leave us?"
"Not at all so badly off as you suggest. It's a good thing we've been invited to join Mr. and Mrs. Watson for dinner; I was considering posing as a patient to get an opportunity to question the good doctor."
"Yes, your Victoria has been excellently received."
Irene gave a theatrical bow. "And I believe Mrs. Watson has also handed us the key to our letter to Mr. Victor Trevor. That will be the work of this evening; it will be a matter of weeks before he receives our letter, let alone replies."
"What do you intend to say to him?"
"There seems to be a pattern," she said in answering, though it was really nothing of the sort, "Mr. Holmes has one friend at a time, with whom he is apparently very close."
"But he would hardly tell us, whatever the nature of their acquaintance."
"I suspect he may feel somewhat indebted to Mr. Holmes the younger, perhaps we may be able to use that to our advantage."
A reprint of a letter from Mrs. Irene Norton to Mr. Victor Trevor:
Dear Mr. Victor Trevor,
My name is Irene Adler. I do not know if my reputation has travelled so far as India. If you have heard of me, it is likely as "the woman" from Dr. John Watson's account of "A Scandal in Bohemia." To Dr. Watson's credit, it is a much fictionalised account.
To put it simply, I am not a married woman, as the story - if you have read it - implies, though I hope soon to be: I am engaged to Mr. Sherlock Holmes, with whom I am deeply in love. It was he who told me about his friendship with you and how it so suddenly ended. I must sincerely apologise for bringing back old memories that I know may be painful to you, but I am in desperate need of assistance and you are the only person who I can turn to for help.
I love Sherlock, about that there is no question, and I am certain he loves me. He is a wonderful man, and I should be the happiest woman on earth, but I cannot help a nagging doubt that festers in the back of my mind.
Just as you were his only friend in university, he now has Dr. John Watson who is more than a mere biographer. They are the closest of friends and share a deep bond. I find that Dr. Watson may be able to bring him more happiness than myself and I fear that to marry Sherlock and demand his affections above such a friend would be unpardonable. Yes, Dr. Watson is a married man himself, but his marriage seems to be less than happy for some of the same reasons that I have come to doubt my own engagement to my dear Sherlock.
In some respects, you must know my fiancé better than I. I know this is a very delicate matter and that is why I cannot ask anyone but you. Please return post as soon as possible with whatever advice you can give me; I am in a desperate situation and the last thing I wish to do is hurt my beloved Sherlock with my ignorance.
I thank you more than I can express.
Forever in your debt,
Miss Irene Adler
