Molly was awake before dawn. The small bunk in which she had slept was not comfortable. As a lady of quality, she had been used to having an enormous bed in which to sleep, as soon as she had been old enough to leave the school room.
She missed the softness of her own bed, the bed warmers which were always placed there on cold nights. The Sherrinford had not been built for the comfort of its occupants however, except for those special cabins, of which Lord Holmes's was one. Molly couldn't help wishing she could have slept in the magnificent bed that dominated the room next to hers. She had made her choice however, and at least she was free, for now.
She quickly re-dressed in the clothes of the night before, having taken all off except her drawers when she went to bed. She had contemplated leaving on the shirt, but had felt it might become too wrinkled if she slept in it. She regretted her decision somewhat, because the harsh woollen blanket had scratched her delicate skin and been vastly uncomfortable. Perhaps she could request a nightshirt to wear, if the captain could find one for the next night. It was too bad she had had to leave all her fine underwear behind at the inn. Even taking her lace trimmed drawers with her had been a risk, but there was no reason anyone should see them.
Molly exited her cabin from the door to the outside and stood on the deck, next to the railing. She could hear noises from the seamen as they called to one another, making preparations to set sail. She looked at the shore and saw in the pre-dawn light that Lord Holmes and his friend Watson had just arrived and stepped out of a carriage. Two coachmen were carrying two large cases and following the men.
She watched quietly from the deck as they boarded the vessel and passed her, going to their assigned cabins. Lord Holmes and his friend both nodded at her briefly in passing.
A couple minutes later, the four men came out on deck. The two coachmen returned to shore, while Lord Holmes and Doctor Watson flanked her.
The three of them watched as the gangplank was pulled, then Lord Holmes said, "Well, here we go. I'm off to see the captain and make plans." He departed, and Molly was left alone with Watson.
"How did you sleep, Hooper?" asked Watson conversationally, resting a hand on the railing as they watched the ship leave the harbour.
Molly breathed a sigh of relief, clasping the railing herself and looking out at the ocean, then answered, "As well as could be expected, considering the unfamiliar location."
They stood for a few moments, as the sky began to lighten in the distance behind them. Molly gave a start at Watson's next words.
"Well, it appears we have successfully escaped from whatever it is you needed to escape from." She noticed the way his head tilted a little, and the rather knowing expression in his eyes.
Molly's hands tightened on the railing. "I...I don't know what you are talking about," she stammered, feeling a flush creep up her cheeks.
"Of course you do," he insisted, leaning his head close to hers and adding in a low voice, "Women do not disguise themselves as men unless they are running from something, I am quite certain of that."
Molly gulped and released her hands from the railing to put them to her cheeks as she swiveled her head to look fearfully at the man beside her. "Are...are you going to tell Lord Holmes? Please, I beg of you, do not do so. I must get away, I must!" She pleaded in her normal voice, her voice rising a little on the last word, giving up the pretense of acting like a boy in front of him.
"If I had wished to do so, I would have told him last night," he remarked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder briefly, and she sighed with relief. "No, I could see you were desperate, and I thought to do you a good turn. Besides, nobody else was volunteering for the position," he added with a quirk to his lips.
She turned to look at him directly, knitting her brows and pressing her lips together. "How did you know I was not a man?"
Watson's lips curved into a grin, and he gave a soft chuckle. "Oh, there are several factors, most notably the ridiculous thing you put in your britches. Young men are just not usually built in such a magnificent fashion, when they have not yet started to grow facial hair."
Molly blushed and folded her arms defensively. "If I had done nothing, it would have appeared even less so that I was a man."
"Perhaps," agreed Watson, returning his gaze to the ocean. "You are lucky that my friend is rather distracted at the moment with this mission. If he was using his usual deductive skills, he would have seen through your disguise immediately."
"Then how can I keep him from finding out?" she asked a little desperately, drawing his focus to her again. She didn't want Lord Holmes to find out and have her returned to Dover. Then all would be surely lost and further escape impossible.
John turned and slid his glance over her body. "Well, for a start, you should put something smaller down your britches," he remarked, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket. "I see you neglected to put anything in them this morning."
Molly looked down at herself after taking the handkerchief. She had completely forgotten to add the silk stockings. Hastily she pushed the handkerchief into the britches and looked at the result. A much smaller bulge was visible.
"Much better," approved Watson, unsuccessfully trying to repress a smile. "I will keep your secret on one condition."
"And what is that?" she asked apprehensively, lifting a hand to twirl her hair, then dropping it as she realised she had no hair to play with because it was covered by the cap.
"That you tell me the truth about what you are running from." His voice was kind, but firm.
Molly chewed the inside of her cheek, and shifted from one foot to the other. "You promise you won't send me back? It would be a fate worse than death for me."
"My goodness, child, such dramatics." Watson rolled his eyes at her, but she suddenly felt a little better, sure he would not betray her confidence. It would be nice to have someone with whom she could be herself. "Now come along to my cabin and we can talk properly," he instructed.
Molly obediently followed Watson to his cabin. The cabin was the same size as that of Lord Holmes, although not quite as opulently furnished. He bade her sit on a chair as he settled into another.
"Now, tell me your story," he commanded her, but in a voice that was not at all harsh, so she relaxed.
Molly proceeded to tell him the whole story, from her father's death shortly after his remarriage, to the plot to marry her off for her fortune.
He listened intently, then stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I presume you are older than you look. How close to five and twenty and freedom are you?"
"Actually, my birthday is but a few weeks away," she admitted shyly. "That is the reason my stepmother wishes to marry me off in such haste to her lover."
John drew in his breath and his eyes widened. "You poor child, although I suppose I cannot really call you that now. I understand why you were desperate to get away." He pursed his lips. "I do have to warn you though. Eventually, when Lord Holmes is less distracted, he will discover the truth about you."
Molly felt fear creeping over her at the thought of being discovered and returned in disgrace to her stepmother. "How long do you think it will take him to realise it? Will we be far enough from land that he will not turn around?" She held her breath and twisted her fingers together nervously, waiting for his response.
Watson's forehead creased as he contemplated the question. "I think once we have journeyed above a day, it would not be feasible to return. At the very least, you should avoid too much conversation with him for the next day or so." He sighed, as if in anticipation of future confrontation. "He will undoubtedly be angry at being deceived, but when the time comes, I will stand up for you, if necessary."
"Thank you so much, Watson," Molly said gratefully.
She jumped slightly as a knock sounded on the cabin door, and Lord Holmes entered without invitation. "John, I was wondering-" his gaze alighted on her, and he continued, "Ah, there you are, Hooper. I was just about to ask if John had seen you." Molly found it hard to breathe, seeing the man again. His turquoise eyes were so arresting, and they seemed to see right through her. She found herself unable to continue looking at him, lest he should somehow discover her attraction to him and discover the truth about her too soon.
"Hooper and I have been having a nice chat, getting to know one another," remarked Watson casually, rising to his feet.
"There's plenty of time for that," Lord Holmes told him rather impatiently. He addressed Molly then, and she had to look up at him. Oh, but he was so much taller than she, and she was at a further disadvantage from her seated position. He positively towered over her. "Hooper, Lestrade has had some clothes delivered to your cabin, as well as the sewing supplies, if you wish to make use of them as soon as possible. I am sure you would like to be able to change out of those clothes when you have the opportunity."
Molly swallowed. Why did he have to be so devastatingly handsome. Her heart was positively pounding, and she longed to run her fingers through that dark, curly hair. She forced herself to respond. " Yes, my lord," she said, remembering to affect a deeper tone to her voice. "I will go to my cabin now."
She rose to her feet as well and found herself much closer to the young lord than she would have liked. He stepped back slightly, seeming suddenly flustered. "Before you do - what is your first name?"
Molly was disconcerted by the abrupt question and began to answer "Mol-" before catching herself quickly and remembering the name she was calling herself, "Maurice." Then she added, "But people usually call me Morry."
Lord Holmes nodded, not seeming to have noticed her slip. "Would you prefer to be called Hooper or Morry?"
"Whatever you wish, my lord," she told him, surreptitiously wiping her damp palms against her britches. Oh, he was handsome, she thought again to herself. Too handsome for her own peace of mind. How was it he affected her so when she barely knew the man?
"Very well then, I think I shall call you Morry as you are such a young lad. Come along now," Lord Holmes said imperiously in a manner that indicated he was obviously used to being obeyed. He swept from the cabin and Molly followed him timidly, with a last glance at Watson, who was looking rather amused. Molly had the distinct feeling the man was feeling pleased to have discovered something before his friend had. He undoubtedly walked in Lord Holmes's shadow most of the time.
Molly walked behind Lord Holmes and was about to pass him to go to her cabin door when they reached his own. To her surprise he asked, "Would you like to do the alteration of your clothes in my cabin? It is much brighter in there."
It was a valid point, she knew. Sewing required good light, and her cabin, even if it was lit by candlelight, would still be much darker than that of Lord Holmes. "Yes, thank you. That would be certainly easier." She ventured a small smile at him, and his lips twitched upwards just a little.
"Feel free to come into my cabin when you are ready. I shall just be reading."
'Thank you, my lord," said Molly humbly before she went to her cabin. She was pleased to discover two sets of clothes on her bunk including a nightshirt. The trousers were definitely too long and would need to be taken in at the waist. She would also need to shorten the sleeves of the shirt. Aside from that however, everything seemed perfectly serviceable.
On the bed were also several needles, two spools of cotton thread and a pair of scissors. Molly gathered up the sewing supplies and garments to alter and went into Lord Homes's cabin.
Lord Holmes raised his head as she entered and nodded to her, then returned his attention to his book. When she noticed what he was reading she exclaimed,
"You're reading The Principles of Chemistry! I have been longing to read that book." She had begun to talk in her normal voice in her excitement but quickly lowered it, hoping Lord Holmes would not notice.
"You are familiar with Dmitri Mendelev?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her in evident surprise.
"Of course. His publication of the periodic table of elements is extraordinary." Molly suddenly realized she was betraying her educational background. "At least that is what I've been told," she amended hastily, unable to prevent the flush that crept up her cheeks. She really needed to think before speaking.
Lord Holmes gave her a quizzical glance but said nothing. Molly sat and began to work on hemming the first pair of trousers after determining the amount of inches by which they needed to be shortened. She was grateful for the good lighting in the cabin which made the task much easier.
For two hours Molly worked on the clothes until they were altered to her satisfaction. She occasionally glanced up at Lord Holmes who still seemed absorbed in his book.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips once she was finished, and Lord Holmes spoke, raising his eyes from his book.
"Well, Morry Hooper, when are you going to tell me what you are escaping from?" He gave her a penetrating stare.
Molly started and looked at him nervously. "I...I beg your pardon?" she faltered.
Lord Holmes's lips thinned as he looked at her. "Oh, come now, lad, I was not born yesterday. You are obviously not a mere servant. Your manicured nails show you to also be high born. There is no trace of dirt under your fingernails nor are your hands work roughened. Your voice is cultured as well and you seemed to have a far more extensive educational background than would be expected from a servant." He rattled off his deductions quickly and Molly's heart began to pound again, this time with fear, rather than excitement at his proximity. He set the book down carefully and added, "I deduce you are running away from an untenable situation."
"Please, Lord Holmes, I can explain. Don't send me back to Dover, I beg of you." She knew she sounded desperate, but he couldn't send her back, he just couldn't! Had he also realized she was disguising herself as a man? Then she thought to herself with relief, probably not because he addressed me as lad.
Instead of responding to her plea, Lord Holmes continued. "I will venture another deduction. By the precipitate manner in which you wished to leave Dover, I surmise you are trying to escape an arranged marriage? Perhaps you have parents who are forcing you into it?." He smiled smugly at her, sure of the accuracy of his deduction.
This is a truly intelligent man, Molly thought, wide-eyed. Thank God he still didn't realise she was a woman. She decided it would be best to admit that he was correct without revealing in which way he was incorrect.
She bowed her head and stared at the table in front if her. "Yes my lord. It is true. I am running away from an arranged marriage."
"In that case, you have obviously not been forthcoming with your true age, have you? You must be one and twenty at the very least."
"Yes my lord," she whispered, raising her eyes to his narrowed gaze. Dear heaven, she hoped he would not wonder why a man of that age still had no facial hair.
But Lord Holmes's thoughts seemed to be turned in a different direction as he pursed his lips. "I hope you understand, young man, that my discovery of your true station in life will not preclude you from performing your duties as cabin boy. You were employed in that capacity, and I still require your services in that manner." His tone was authoritative and despite herself, she both trembled and thrilled at the sound of his voice, like rich velvet with a note of steel beneath.
"Of course, my lord, I shall endeavour to do my duties to the best of my ability," Molly assured him, folding her hands together tightly so he would not see the way they trembled.
Lord Holmes nodded, apparently satisfied by the earnest note in her voice. "Very well, then we shall speak no more of this for now. Eventually I will require further explanation from you, however."
Molly gulped. At least he was not pressing the matter immediately. "I understand, my lord," she answered, as he picked up his book once more, apparently dismissing her.
Having collected her altered garments, Molly stood and asked hesitantly, "Do you require anything of me at this time?"
He raised his eyes to her. "Not at the moment," he answered.
She turned to leave, when his voice unexpectedly addressed her once again. "Have you ever been on a ship before, Morry? I have no pressing matters requiring my attention, so I can show you around before luncheon if that is something which would please you," he said rather kindly with a lift of an eyebrow, surprising her.
"I would like that," she answered shyly. "I will just take these things to my cabin."
When she returned, Lord Holmes put down his book and gestured for her to precede him from the cabin. She tried to tell herself that she was just interested in the ship, not the man who would be accompanying her. Nonetheless, as she looked at him, waiting for him to lead her around the vessel, she could not help but feel her traitorous heart beating a little faster at the prospect of spending more time with the handsome lord.
Author's note: Hmmm, do you think Molly might already be falling in love with the handsome Lord Holmes? You may notice that is how I referred to him in this chapter, because it is Molly's POV, and she does not think of him as Sherlock, at least not yet. As a reader, do you find it easier to see chapters written from one POV, or do you prefer the more common method of showing the inner monologue of the main characters in general?
What did you think of the fact that John realised she was a woman? I thought it would be fun to do that, because Watson knew it before Holmes in TAB. Sherlock is definitely getting closer to the truth though, isn't he? At least he has figured out that his cabin boy is hiding something. But he is definitely missing the biggest piece of the puzzle!
Share your thoughts with me and other readers. When and how do you think the truth will come out?