Day 3: Locked in a room/trapped in a small space (maybe both?!)
Victorian Sherlolly. Sequel to Day 2 (which was sequel to Day 1)
"Oh, for the love of everything HOLY!" Molly cried.
"SHHH!" Sherlock demanded.
"How dare you…."
"Stop talking before you get us caught!" Sherlock whispered angrily. He put his arm around Molly's waist and practically dragged her across the long corridor after he talked Molly into going after Mr. Clayden, their suspect, who has left through this corridor in a suspicious manner, like he was the owner of the mansion, not a guest.
"We can't just roam around the mansion, Mr. Holmes. We are guests."
"Wrong. We are investigators, and this man is a murder suspect. We need to follow him. His presence here is not a coincidence. He is here for a reason. Maybe Lord Bennett is the next target! We need to act quickly."
And that was how Molly found herself following Sherlock, who was following Mr. Clayden in this labyrinth of corridors. One moment they were the hunters, and now they were the hunted, as several voices started getting closer to where they stood and it was time to find a good hiding place before they were caught roaming around their host's house without permission.
"Take your hand off me." Molly hissed angrily.
"STOP TALKING, WOMAN!" Sherlock whispered, gritting his teeth. Without giving it another thought, he opened the first door they met and pushed Molly through it, before following her and closing the door behind them as quickly and quietly as possible.
Sherlock turned to look at his companion, and she was fuming. If looks could kill, Sherlock would be a puddle of ash on the mahogany floor in one moment.
Sherlock quickly scanned the room with his eyes; it was a study, with a large wooden desk, several book shelves and two massive wooden cupboards at both sides of the glass window that was facing the room's door.
"Jesus, woman, you are louder than a train." Sherlock murmured, still looking around the room for any evidence
"We are locked in a room. Together." Molly whispered.
"So?"
"SO?!"
Suddenly, they both heard heavy footsteps walking down the corridor, and with every passing moment, the footsteps were getting closer.
"Oh, no!" Molly muttered nervously.
"Hurry." Sherlock whispered, as he took her arm and ushered her towards one of the cupboards.
"What?"
Sherlock didn't answer. He opened the cupboard, but it was already full with several shelves that were stacked with books, wooden boxes and photo frames.
"God damn it!"
"Mr. Holmes!"
Sherlock pulled Molly with him to the other cupboard quickly, which was luckily empty.
"Into the cupboard."
"Have you lost your mind, Mr. Holmes?!"
"Into the cupboard. NOW!"
He pushed her inside then followed her and closed it behind them. In the darkness of the small confinement, no sound was heard except their heavy breathing, along with the footsteps that seemed to have stopped just outside the room's door.
"Now what?" Molly asked in a very low voice.
Sherlock quickly put his hand on her mouth.
Several moments passed before the room's door was open and two sets of feet stepped inside. Molly held her breath, while Sherlock kept his hand on her mouth. Without even thinking about it, Sherlock extended his other hand to touch Molly's wrist in his own way to make her feel safer; he understood that while Molly was a brave woman who challenged the world every single day by pretending to be a man in order to pursue her dreams, chasing murder suspects wasn't her cup of tea. An unfamiliar yet welcome feel of protectiveness towards Molly washed over Sherlock, offering him another motive to chase this criminal and put him behind bars.
Sherlock strained his ears to listen to what the people across the room were saying. To both Molly and Sherlock's utter shock, one of the voices was for Mr. Clayden, the suspect they were chasing, and the other voice was for Lord Bennett, the host and the owner of the mansion.
"How could you do such a foolish thing, coming here unannounced to my house?" Lord Bennett's voice echoed.
"I made sure no one followed me." Mr. Clayden replied.
"How could you be sure? You said yourself that that detective, Holmes, was already investigating you back in London."
"Well, that was how it was in London, and I was able to fool him and come to Sussex. The moron still believes I am resident in my own house in London."
"How could you be sure?" Lord Bennett repeated angrily.
"Because no one is that clever, Lord Bennett. Remember that we are a part of an organization, one wheel in a huge machine. He can't infiltrate us, this Holmes detective. He simply doesn't have the means."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes angrily.
"But Holmes suspecting you to be the murderer of Mr. & Mrs. Alston is proof enough that he is closer than we wish him to be."
"Even if that is true, he is only investigating a murder. He doesn't know our real purpose. He doesn't know the whole truth."
Despite the darkness in the cupboard, Sherlock and Molly's eyes were drawn to each other, both absorbing the words they were hearing, knowing that they were facing something bigger than what they thought at the beginning.
"I should go back to my guests." They heard Bennett saying to Clayden.
"Of course. Unwanted attention is nothing we need now." Clayden commented.
Heavy footsteps retreated across the room. The door was open, and both men walked outside the room before the door was closed. Sherlock and Molly waited for a minute to make sure no one was coming back to the room before Sherlock gently removed his hand from Molly's mouth, then he cracked open the cupboard's door. Sherlock stepped outside the cupboard then helped Molly get out before closing it. They stood still in front of the cupboard, staring at each other and breathing heavily. They didn't know whether it was because of the small space they were trapped into, the new information they have discovered about their case, or simply because they have spent the last ten minutes physically close to each other like never before.
"Molly?" Sherlock gently said.
"Yes?" Molly replied softly.
"I…." Sherlock didn't know what to say. Instead, he swallowed heavily, then extended his right hand to Molly. "Let's get out of here."
Molly nodded silently before slipping her hand into his.
The following two hours passed agonizingly slowly, both Sherlock and Molly wishing to leave as soon as they could but without drawing any attention. Therefore, they opted to stay for two more hours exchanging pleasantries and socializing with the other guests. After two hours, Molly pretended to have a migraine and Sherlock excused both of them, saying that he needed to escort the lady back to her hotel room to get some rest.
After saying goodbye to the host and several other guests, Molly and Sherlock couldn't have been happier to take the carriage back to the hotel.
Half the way back to the hotel, Sherlock cut the heavy silence looming over the carriage, "I apologize."
"What for, Mr. Holmes?" Molly asked quietly.
"For asking you to accompany me on the trip. It is turning out to be more dangerous that I have anticipated." Sherlock answered, regret etched on his face.
"You have just said it; you simply asked and I agreed." Molly commented calmly.
"But, I insisted." Sherlock argued.
"Mr. Holmes, I am an adult, who can take her own decisions. Like I said, you asked and I accepted."
Sherlock nodded silently.
Two minutes later, Sherlock continued, "I apologize again."
"What for?" Molly asked again, this time with a smile on her face.
"For…..that situation, back in the cupboard." Sherlock said nervously.
"I did not mean for us to be trapped together inside such a small space, or even…." Sherlock abruptly stopped talking, averting his eyes, trying to memorize the feeling of Molly's soft lips against his fingers, but feeling guilty for thinking of her that way when she has trusted him enough to join him on this insane adventure.
"It is alright, Mr. Holmes. I understood all the risks when I decided to join you on your adventure."
"Our." Sherlock corrected her gently.
"Mm?"
"Our adventure. It has been ours since you have accepted my offer."
"I thought you didn't like sharing, Mr. Holmes." Molly smiled teasingly.
"With you, I might be open to change my mind." Sherlock said with a matching smile on his face.
I plan to write more one chapter to finish this story.