Author's note: I am a little late in getting this chapter up this week, due to having had a very busy weekend. I love to receive feedback from my readers. If you would like to have an idea of how much effort goes into publishing just one chapter or story, take a look at the post I made on Tumblr under my name GoodShipSherlollipop. It is entitled, "A day in the life of a legally blind fanfiction author." If you are one of the majority of people who never bothers to leave feedback on the stories you read, perhaps it will help you understand a little why we ask for it. It is the only pat on the back we receive for untold hours of effort to make a story fit for publication. Although detailed reviews are wonderful, and most appreciated, even the simplest words of encouragement (or critique) from readers, including guests, are better than nothing. I am very grateful to those few special people who are not shy in encouraging me, because you are the ones who keep me going. May God bless you for your kindness to me!
As Molly sat at the table, she wondered if she could convince her stepmother that she wished to retire early that night. Perhaps then she could find a way to disguise herself as a man. She could present herself as a replacement cabin boy. She would be safe on a boat, away from Florence's clutches. Once she turned five and twenty, she could reappear to claim her inheritance. The money she received for being a cabin boy would easily keep her solvent until then.
Molly absently nodded at something Magnussen said, still formulating the plan in her mind. She had seen a stable boy earlier in the day, tending to the horses at the inn. He looked to be about the same height and stature as herself. For the first time, Molly was glad about the fact that her breasts were not overly large and her height also lacking. If she could only convince the boy to sell her a change of clothes, perhaps she could succeed. But what could she offer in return? She did have a little pin money, not enough to do anything extravagant, Florence had made sure of that, but hopefully enough for a young boy to give her a set of clothes.
Suddenly she heard her name and focussed her attention back on the other two occupants of her table.
"Molly, aren't you listening? Charles has asked if we should like to take the air this evening. There are many entertainments around here." Florence gave her a cross look and Molly pressed her lips together.
"Actually, I am feeling rather poorly. I have a headache coming on and would like to retire early to bed," she lied, making an effort to put a weak note into her voice, and she raised a hand to her forehead as if she were in pain.
She noticed Florence was looking rather aggrieved, so she quickly added, in an effort to sound agreeable, "Perhaps we could do something tomorrow night instead? You should certainly spend the evening with your friend." She forced a flirtatious note into her voice as she added, "I am greatly looking forward to spending more time with Charles myself on the morrow, if he is available." She cast a coquettish glance at the man, who fortunately was completely taken in by her subterfuge.
He gave her a smarmy smile and said, "I would be most delighted, Lady Molly."
Soon afterwards, Molly rose from the table to go to bed. The other couple made their way towards the exit of the inn. As soon as they were gone, Molly put her plan into action.
First, she went to her room and pulled out a pound note. It was a risk, because she had very little other money, but she was desperate. Upon returning downstairs, she noticed the dark, curly-haired man was gone, but the blonde-haired man was talking to several people. I will have to be quick, she thought rather anxiously, otherwise he will find someone else to fill the cabin boy position.
Upon exiting the inn, taking care to see that her stepmother and Magnussen were nowhere in sight, Molly immediately went to the stables. To her great relief, she was able to find the young boy she had seen earlier in the day.
He was mucking out one of the horse stalls and gave a start when she approached him.
"Oh, 'ello, Miss, I didn't see ye there." The boy tipped his cap politely. "Can I 'elp ye?"
"I hope you can," she responded in a soft voice, glancing around to make sure nobody was about. Fortunately the stable seemed to be empty. "I am in need of some clothes."
The boy took off his cap fully and scratched his head, taking stock of her obviously expensive, elaborate gown and giving her an uncertain look. "Clothes, Miss? What would ye be needin' clothes for?"
Molly's eyes shifted again nervously, and she licked her lips. "I...I have made a bet with a friend that I can dress as a boy and she will not recognize me."
The lad chuckled. "Beggin' yer pardon, Miss, but ye don't look as if ye could pass fer a boy. Ye has very lovely, long hair."
Molly raised a hand to touch her hair and pursed her lips momentarily, before responding. "I would be needing a cap of course to cover that, but we seem to be around the same height." She gave the stable boy a winning smile and he blushed. "If you can procure me a set of clothes, including cap and shoes, there's a pound in it for you." She extracted the note from her small reticule and showed it to him.
The boy's eyes widened as his mouth dropped open in astonishment. "Cor blimey, Miss! A whole pound? I ain't never seen so much money in me life!"
"Well, it is an important bet, and you must promise to tell nobody of it either, otherwise it will be ruined." She gave him a conspiratorial look. "Nobody must know what I am doing. It would spoil the bet, and I am not sure how long it will be before my friend arrives at the inn. She only knows that I will be dressing up as a boy sometime during the next week."
"I'd be 'appy to help ye out," said the boy eagerly, with a longing look at the note she still held in her hand. "I've a change of clothes in the tack room that I put on after I'm done cleanin' the stalls. Me ma can get me some more if I tell 'er I be needin' more."
"Could you please get them now?" asked Molly quickly, hardly daring to believe her luck that this boy had clothes available for her. However, she had a feeling that time was of the essence.
The youth nodded. "I'll be roight back."
Molly waited impatiently, shifting from 1 foot to the other. It seemed like an age, but it was really only two minutes later when the lad returned with a pile of clothes. "Oi ain't got no extra shoes nor cap," he explained, "but ye can 'ave mine. That pound'll buy me a dozen pairs o' shoes and 'ats if I want 'em." He took off his shoes and cap and added them to the pile of clothes, then held out his hand.
"Thank you so much," said Molly gratefully, before giving the boy a stern look. "Now, mind you tell nobody about this. Otherwise I will get in trouble for making the bet, and my father will insist you return the money." She extended the pound note to the boy who took it and gazed at it in wonder, before shoving it into his pocket as if he were afraid it might disappear.
"I'll be quiet, Miss, I promise!" he exclaimed, giving her a cheery wave as he got back to work, now both shoeless and capless.
With a feeling of triumph, Molly went back inside the inn, taking care that nobody was looking her way.
Upon reaching the safety of her room, she hurriedly removed her gown. Fortunately, she was not corseted, as Florence had deemed it unnecessary to incur the expense of bringing a lady's maid along on the journey for just such a purpose.
She donned the boy's clothes. They were quite a good fit actually. The shirt was a little tight across her breasts, but the tightness served to flatten her curves, so they were almost unnoticeable unless someone were to really spend time in observation of her chest area. A baggy woolly jumper served to further hide her figure.
Molly plaited her hair quickly as well, and shoved it under the cap the boy had given her. That excess hair served to keep the cap quite secure in its position on her head, she noted with satisfaction, although several loose tendrils that were too short to put into the plait peeked out from beneath the cap. These she was not concerned about.
Molly contemplated discarding her drawers and wearing the provided britches alone, but realized she did not really wish to feel the coarse fabric directly on her skin, so she decided to just pull the britches over her drawers. Socks and shoes were next. The shoes were a little large, but Molly was glad it was not the other way around.
Finally, she surveyed herself in the full-length looking glass. She thought the transformation quite successful. She looked much younger than her four and twenty years, could easily pass for a boy of seventeen who did not yet have facial hair. Then she noticed something else. Her britches were decidedly flat, no sign of what a boy or man would have in that region. How could she amend that?
She hit upon an idea - she had a pair of silk stockings that she wadded up into a ball. It was perhaps a bit larger than she would have liked, but she had no time to think of an alternative. Molly shoved the stockings down the front of the britches, where they made a rather prominent bulge. Nobody could possibly think of me as a woman now, she thought in some satisfaction.
Molly left her room, locking it behind her and hoping her stepmother would not unexpectedly decide to visit her again that night. She thought it unlikely, but said a quick prayer anyway, that God would protect her and see that she was able to successfully escape.
Then she went in search of the blonde-haired man she had seen earlier. Fortunately, he was still in the inn, looking decidedly disgruntled.
She approached him, trying to make an effort to walk like a boy, not a woman. She tapped him on the shoulder and said, remembering to lower her voice, "Excuse me sir, I couldn't help but overhear you asking if anyone would be available at short notice to take on the position of cabin boy for a ship leaving at dawn."
"That is correct," said the man, narrowing his eyes slightly, as if to assess her.
She cleared her throat nervously. "I also heard you are offering the sum of one hundred pounds for the inconvenience of such a precipitate departure."
The man looked at her, a little startled. She probably should not have used such big words. Darn my large vocabulary.
He merely responded with, "That is also correct."
"Well, as it happens, I am a good sailor," she lied, offering him a small, hopeful smile. In fact, she had no idea if she was a good sailor or not, having never been on any type of ocean faring vessel, but that was a problem she could deal with if the time came. For now, she just had to get the man to take her on as cabin boy.
His gaze swept over her once again, and he looked rather thoughtful as he creased his brow and asked, "How old are you, young man? Wouldn't your parents be upset about you leaving in such haste?"
She widened her eyes slightly, trying to look genuine. "I'm seventeen sir, and am an orphan." Well at least half of that is true, she thought. "I just happened to come here tonight to look for work as a stable hand, but when I overheard you talking, I thought I'd prefer to be on the ocean."
The man stroked his chin and pulled his lips together. "What's your name?"
Darn, she hadn't thought about that. She supposed she could use her real last name, as they were sailing the next morning and nobody would know who Lady Molly Hooper was. But first name? She needed to keep it close to her real name, in case someone called her by name, so that she would respond to it.
"It's Hooper, sir, Maurice Hooper, but people call me Morry."
He nodded, seeming to come to a decision. "Very well, then, Morry Hooper, you are in luck. I am rather desperate right now." He expelled a long breath before continuing. "I warn you though, I cannot tell you how long we shall be upon the ocean. It could be days, it could be weeks."
"That's fine with me, sir," she responded, trying to keep the eagerness out of her voice.
"You may call me Watson. Come now and I will introduce you to the person to whom you will be reporting." He indicated with his head that she should follow him.
He led her upstairs and knocked at the door of a room, entering upon being bidden to do so.
Molly bit her lip nervously. She had succeeded in fooling Watson, but would she be able to convince the handsome, dark-haired man that she was a young boy of seventeen?
Watson took her arm and drew her forward so she was staring directly into the face of the man in the room. Up close he was even more devastatingly handsome than he had been from the opposite side of the other table earlier. His blue-green eyes were arresting, and she looked down quickly, afraid that he might guess she was a woman. Her heartbeat accelerated, and her mouth felt dry, even as she began to chew on her lower lip.
She felt the man giving her a long, lingering look from head to foot, before Watson spoke.
"Lord Holmes, may I introduce you to your new cabin boy - Hooper. Hooper - this is Lord Sherlock Holmes."
She had been right then, he was a titled man. Sherlock, what an unusual name. The name Holmes rang a bell though. Hadn't her father talked once about someone with a similar name who had a high-ranking position in government? He had referred to the man as being "the British government" in fact, as if he were more important than Queen Victoria herself. Perhaps this was a relation, or the man himself? Still, the name Sherlock did not sound familiar. She fancied it had started with M, another unusual name too, which made it likely the two men were related.
Lord Holmes's glance flicked over her once again. "Hooper, I am pleased my friend was able to procure your services at short notice. We are rather in a hurry to leave on the morrow."
Molly deepened her voice again as she spoke. "Yes, my lord. I am looking forward to the adventure."
He offered a curt nod. "We shall be departing at dawn. Do you have any farewells to make first?"
"No, my lord. I am an orphan. I just desire employment." She tried to keep her tone sincere and casual, but the way he looked at her made her feel a little breathless. Oh, but he had a countenance she could gaze upon for hours and not grow wearisome of.
"If you like, I can take you to The Sherrinford, and you may sleep there tonight, unless you have elsewhere to stay?" He raised a brow inquiringly at her.
"No!" exclaimed Molly in her normal voice, then she hastily deepened it again, hoping the man would just assume her voice had not yet come into its full masculine sound. "I mean, I just arrived today and had not made any arrangements for overnight accommodation."
He looked at her sharply and she feared he might have guessed at her ruse, but his expression relaxed after a moment as he commented, "Well, that is rather fortuitous. Have you been a cabin boy before, Hooper?"
"No, my lord," she told him honestly, casting her gaze shyly downwards.
He gave a rather impatient huff. "In that case I hope you are a quick learner. I do not tolerate fools well, and I expect my servants to obey me immediately when I give them an order." She looked up at him then. This sounded more serious than she had anticipated. He continued, "It is imperative that you do as I say without question. This mission I am about to undertake requires the utmost loyalty and no hesitation. Your life may depend upon it. Do I make myself clear?" His brows were drawn slightly together and his expression was very solemn.
Molly gulped. Definitely not a simple ocean journey then. A mission, he had said. "Yes, my lord," she managed, biting her lip once again.
"Very well, let us go immediately and I will tell you more along the way." Sherlock turned to Watson. "Coming? The game is afoot."
"Of course, Sherlock," said Watson, and the three of them made their way out of the inn.
Molly had to force herself not to skip as she walked with the men - she was leaving, she was escaping. She was free from fear. Her stepmother would no longer be able to torment her or force her to marry anyone. With a silent prayer of thanksgiving in her heart, she followed the men to a carriage embossed with what was undoubtedly the Holmes crest. Then they were off to the harbour.
Author's note 2: Wasn't it clever of Molly to find a way to escape? How long do you think it will be before Sherlock discovers she is a woman?