Molly opened her eyes and was, for a moment, disoriented. She shifted position in the unfamiliar bed, and the events of the previous evening came back to her. Now, facing the centre of the bed, she caught sight of the curly hair and dark eyelashes of Lord Holmes. She couldn't help the way her heart started to beat faster at the sight. She had never seen a man so attractive. Tentatively, she reached her hand to touch a curl that had fallen over his forehead, then snatched it back quickly as he opened his eyes.
"Good morning, Miss Hooper. Did you sleep well?" he spoke in his rich baritone, which sent a thrill running through her.
"Y...yes my lord," she stammered, feeling unaccountably aware of the fact that she wore no drawers beneath her nightshirt.
He sat up in bed then, completely at his ease and asked, "Well, do you feel up to telling me the whole story this morning?"
She drew herself up, taking care to make sure the covers were still securely around her waist, moving herself closer to the edge of the bed so there was some distance between them. "I…I will tell you." So she did, shyly relating the complete story. She told him about her father's unfortunate marriage and accidental death. Then she explained the plot to marry her off to her stepmother's lover before she was five and twenty, so that he would be able to control her fortune. At this, Lord Homes raised his eyebrow.
"You're an heiress then?" he asked, rather slowly, despite the fact that it was obvious, by what she had said, and she wondered of what possible consequence it could be to him.
"Yes, my lord," she admitted shyly, biting her lip, hoping he would not decide that the right thing to do would be to return her after all, to her stepmother.
His brows drew together a little, as he seemed to be puzzling things out in his own mind. "And your father was titled so you are a lady as well. May I ask when this important birthday will occur?"
Her hand tightened compulsively on the covers of the bed. "It is only a few weeks away. I had hoped to be away at sea for some time and then when I returned to be able to live off the hundred pounds until my birthday, after which I could claim my inheritance."
Lord Holmes looked at her thoughtfully. "I must admit, that was rather clever of you," he conceded. Then he pursed his lips. "But you have put me in a difficult position."
"Can I…can I not stay here with you? I can continue to pretend to be your cabin boy," she suggested, raising a hand to her long plait and twisting it nervously.
He placed his fingers together and steepled them under his chin. "I suppose that is what we must do for now. To reveal you as a woman would endanger you with the crew." His gaze drifted over her in a way that made her blush. "I must tell you, that the sight of a pretty young woman would be sure to turn the heads of the men on this vessel."
He thinks I'm pretty. Molly felt a little flicker of hope. "So I may stay with you? I will be no trouble, I promise." She looked at him pleadingly and held her breath, waiting for his response.
He pursed his lips and spoke sternly. "If we were not so far out at sea, I would be tempted to turn around, return you to Dover and leave you with some money to stay safe from your stepmother."
"Doctor Watson said that you would not turn back once we had been at sea above a day," she confided, with just a hint of a smile playing about her lips.
The young lord frowned at her. "You're telling me that my friend knew of this and didn't inform me?" Then he added slowly, "Well, I Was aware he knew part of your secret, but I had no idea he was aware of the whole story."
"He knew from the first, but felt sorry for me. He told me he knew I was a woman after you and he boarded the ship," Molly explained, as her gaze dropped from his and she continued. "I begged him not to tell you, and he promised, as long as I told him everything." She peeped back up at him.
Lord Holmes shifted his position in the bed to look at her more fully, running a hand through that lustrous hair she so longed to touch. "So that is what you were talking about in his cabin when I found you the other day? But how did he know you were a woman, when I did not see it for myself?" His lips tightened, and Molly could see that he was annoyed with himself.
Her gaze fell from his once again. What she had to relate was most embarrassing. "He…he said I was rather…too well endowed for such a young man." She blushed as she spoke the words.
Lord Holmes made an exclamation. "Of course! I even noticed that myself." Then he went on, almost as though speaking to himself, "What a bloody fool I was to see but not observe the truth of the matter. It appears my friend has better observational skills than I do at times."
"Please don't be angry with him," Molly begged. "He was just trying to be kind," she told him, as her hands tightened on the bed covers once more. She did not wish to be the source of any antagonism between the two friends.
Surprisingly, Lord Holmes extended a hand to cover her own, and she felt a tingle run through it which made her draw in her breath audibly at the sensation. Apparently he felt something also, because he withdrew his hand immediately and a disconcerted expression crossed his face.
She saw him swallow before he said, "Have no fear, little one. John is a good man, and I will not be too cross with him." He took a deep breath, and Molly felt that what was coming next was of great import to him. "As for you, knowing that you are, in fact, a lady, I think in private you should just call me by my first name. After all we are equals in society. You may call me Sherlock."
Molly licked her lips nervously. This was a great concession indeed. "Thank you my…I mean, Sherlock." Sherlock smiled at her, and her heart lightened. When he smiled in that manner, it transformed his face and made him look much younger. He had such full, sensual lips, and her fingers itched to touch them. What would it be like to feel his lips on mine? she wondered dreamily.
Her wayward thoughts were interrupted by his voice coming from those beautiful lips. "I suppose I should have you go to the galley and get us some breakfast now, while I summon John to my cabin. It is fortunate you have a spare set of clothes, we will need to see that your wet ones are left to dry properly."
"Of course, my…Sherlock," she responded. It was going to take some time to get used to calling him by that name, but the more she thought of his name, the more she liked it. It had a very elegant sound to it. She climbed out of the large bed, still aware of the fact that she wore only a nightshirt, and hurried into the small cabin to dress. When she emerged, with her cap securely on her head once more, she saw that he too had dressed. Sherlock shook his head at her.
"It is so clear to me now that you are a woman. You don't even walk like a man." There was a rather amused twist to his lips as he spoke.
Molly blushed. "I was trying to do so, to lengthen my stride, but I admit, it is not something I have constantly thought of to do. I do try to remember to lower my voice, however."
"Make sure you do so in the galley when you are procuring our breakfast," Lord Holmes warned her, walking towards her and adjusting her cap slightly. "We don't want any of the men getting suspicious. I have enough to worry about with this mission already."
He was standing so close to her that she found it hard to formulate the words as she looked up at him. "I will try...Sherlock."
"See that you do, Molly." He nodded down at her and she knew she was dismissed.
I like the way my name sounds on his lips, Molly thought, as she made her way down to the galley to see Mrs. Hudson. She tried to remember to walk more like a man and to lower her voice when she spoke to the elderly woman. There were several men in the mess hall and she was uncomfortably aware that some of them were staring at her.
"Come here, lad," called one of the men, as she was waiting for Mrs. Hudson to fix her a tray to take upstairs.
Not knowing what else to do, she complied, walking hesitantly to the man.
"Yes, sir?" she asked politely, biting her lip nervously.
The man gave her a long look. "You're rather a scrawny fellow, aren't you?" he remarked in what Molly thought was a rather insolent tone. He was a powerfully built man, as seemed the case with most of the sailors aboard.
"No sir, I am not scrawny, just small," she responded, afraid of his penetrating gaze, but feeling the need to stand up for herself.
Several of the men sitting at the table laughed. One of them commented, "The lad has a tongue in his head, that's for certain."
Fortunately, Mrs. Hudson appeared at that moment and called, "Hooper, the tray is ready for you and Lord Holmes." Then she added sternly to the men, "Leave the young man alone."
Molly took the tray from Mrs. Hudson and was making her way to go back upstairs when she happened to hear the first man murmuring, "Hooper, I know that name from somewhere," and a chill suddenly ran down her spine. Perhaps she should not have used her real name, she thought as she returned to Lord Holmes's - Sherlock's cabin.
She re-entered the cabin to find that John Watson was there as well. He smiled at her as she came in. "I see that your secret has been revealed. Sherlock has just been telling me off for not informing him about it earlier."
Molly set down the tray on the table, then turned to the doctor. "I am so sorry. I did not wish to cause discord between you and Sherlock."
"I already told you, Molly, I would not be too cross with him," Sherlock pointed out with a quirk to his lips. "We have been friends for too many years to let something like this get between us."
John's brows lifted fractionally. "Sherlock and Molly, eh? I see you are now on a first name basis." He smirked, and Sherlock frowned at him, pursing his lips.
John stood then. "Well, I suppose I should get back to my cabin and my own breakfast," he commented, rather hastily. Then he added, with a rather wicked smile, "but perhaps I should stay to act as chaperone for both of you."
Sherlock rolled his eyes as Molly blushed. "Oh, for God's sake, man, I'm not about to seduce the girl. You know I have no interest in women," he said bluntly, and Molly couldn't help feeling her heart sinK at his words. Her attraction to him was obviously one-sided.
Later in the day, Sherlock sent Molly to Captain Lestrade. "Ask him if there is any news on Moriarty's latest movements."
She went dutifully to the captain's cabin and soon returned with the news that they were still expected to reach the vicinity of Moriarty's last known whereabouts in two day's time. No new information had come to light in regard to his current activities.
"Very well," responded Sherlock, with a little huff of annoyance. "I'd really like to get this mission over and done with." Molly looked at him a little anxiously. Was he in such a hurry to get rid of her?
She supposed that was not surprising. She was an encumbrance after all that he had not anticipated, And the mission could potentially be compromised if her true identity as a woman was exposed.
She passed a quiet evening with Sherlock. He had allowed her to look at the Mendelev book he had been reading, and they discussed it together. She really enjoyed talking with him. He was so intelligent, and she found they shared a love of science in general.
The following day, Molly was delighted to discover that Sherlock had a chessboard. She had been taught the strategy game by her father years earlier and enjoyed the challenge it presented immensely. This chess set, however, was magnificent. The pieces were made from heavily weighted ebony and ivory and were obviously extremely expensive.
"Oh yes, I very much enjoy the game. How did you acquire this wonderful chess set?" she inquired of Sherlock, lifting one of the ivory pieces and fingering it reverently, after he brought out the chessboard and set it on the table, asking if she knew how to play.
"It was a gift, after I solved a very difficult case for a wealthy Maharajah," he responded off-handedly, with a modest shrug.
Molly's lips parted in surprise. This was most intriguing. "So you are a detective, then?"
Sherlock's lips curved upwards into a smile. "As a matter of fact, yes. When I am not doing government missions for my brother, I consider myself a consulting detective."
"What is a consulting detective?" Molly inquired, furrowing her brow. She had never heard of the term before.
"I am the person the police call when they can't solve a case," he informed her, and there was a note of pride in his voice. "I have helped Scotland Yard on several occasions." There was a quirk to his lips as he added, "My observation skills are usually exceptional, although they appear to have been singularly lacking where you were concerned."
"I am sure you were just distracted by your current mission," said Molly kindly as they sat down to play a game.
They enjoyed several games of chess. Molly was delighted to actually win one of them, and found it quite amusing to see Sherlock pouting about it. Once again she thought how much she longed to touch those sensual lips. Actually, if she was honest with herself, she longed for him to kiss her even though she knew it was a vain hope. She thought it would be most wonderful to be kissed by him, although she had never felt the touch of a man's lips before.
Molly had the distinct feeling she was falling in love with Lord Sherlock Holmes. He was everything she could have wished for in a man – both handsome and intelligent. She knew her father would have approved of a marriage with a man such as he as well. But of course, she knew he would never see her that way, he had already said to John in her presence that he had no interest in women. She would have to be content to admire him from afar and have her dreams, but to her, every moment they spent together had a kind of magic about it, which she knew was bound to disappear eventually.
That evening, just after dinner, Molly was feeling as if she needed to leave the confines of the cabin for awhile. She and Sherlock had spent almost the entire day together, and she was feeling uncomfortably aware of him. She could feel her love for him growing, and was afraid she might be tempted to just blurt it out, which would undoubtedly embarrass him. She just needed to put some distance between them for awhile, so she could remind herself that loving a man who did not feel an attraction to her was futile. It was a warm evening so she asked him hesitantly, "Sherlock, would you mind if I went outside for awhile and walked around on the deck? I feel the need for some exercise."
Sherlock lifted his eyes from the book he was reading. "I have no objection, but there will be men on deck, and I would advise you to stay clear of them. It is best they do not see you too often," he told her mildly, seeming to hardly notice her presence, and she felt disconsolately that he would not have even noticed if she had just left the cabin without permission. His gaze returned to his book. It must be fascinating, Molly thought sadly to herself, Much more fascinating than I am.
"I will be careful," she promised and left the cabin, sighing a little. He had not even looked up again from his book to watch her leave. As she walked about the deck she deliberately avoided any sailor she happened to see. After about fifteen minutes however, she realised that one of them had spotted her and was approaching. She recognised him as the same man who had spoken to her the previous morning. She tried to hurry away from him, but he caught up to her and took hold of her arm. She felt suddenly fearful. This part of the deck was isolated, there were no other sailors anywhere in the vicinity that she could detect.
"What…what are you doing? I must get back to Sh..Lord Holmes now - he may have need of me."
The man refused to release her, but instead gave her an assessing look, and said, "Your name's Hooper, isn't it?"
"Y...yes sir," she answered, unable to keep her voice from trembling slightly.
He gave her a self-satisfied smile that made her feel suddenly weak from fear. "I've been wracking my brain about where I've heard that name before. Suddenly it came to me earlier today. There was a lady at the inn by that name the night before we sailed. Some of us sailors were having a drink in the inn that night. I happened to be talking to the proprietor and he was boasting that he had a grand lady staying at the inn with her stepdaughter."
Molly's face drained of colour, but she tried to control her nervousness. "What a funny coincidence," she remarked trying once again to pull away from the man. "I really must be going now."
"Now, now, lad...or should I say - lady," he said, using his other arm to pull the cap from her head. Molly was horrified as her plait came tumbling down, revealing her as the woman she was.
"I knew it," crowed the man in triumph. "I knew there was something about you that wasn't quite right. Has Lord Holmes been hiding you in order to have you all to himself during the voyage?"
"No, no, of course not," she responded, as tears filled her eyes. "Lord Holmes would not do something like that!" she exclaimed, struggling futilely in his grasp and growing more fearful by the moment. He was just too strong.
"Well then, if he doesn't want you, I'd be happy to teach you a thing or two about the ways of love." The sailor leered at her, and Molly was terrified. This was obviously what Sherlock had warned her about, and now she would pay the penalty for being so foolish. She continued to try to free herself, but he easily grabbed both her wrists and held them. His meaty hand was able to hold both of hers fast as he used the other to roughly touch her breasts through the fabric of her shirt.
Molly thought about screaming, but was afraid nobody would hear her, and even if they did, they would probably be just as likely to want to take their pleasure from her as this man once they discovered she was a woman. She continued to twist and turn in vain, feeling horror and revulsion overwhelm her as his hand continued to rub at her breasts through the fabric. His mouth and his horrible thick lips were getting closer to hers, and she could smell the foul stench of his breath. She twisted her head to one side to avoid the touch of those horrible lips.
In response to her defiance, he pushed her back against a bulkhead, pinioning her there, arms above her head as his hand continued to grasp her wrists tightly. He pressed his lower body close against hers as he ripped her shirt open in one violent movement, exposing her breasts.
Molly could see the lust in his eyes and knew there was no escape, but still, she had to try. "Please, please,"she begged. "Lord Holmes will be very angry if you do anything to me. Let me go, I beg of you."
But he wouldn't listen to her, consumed with his own needs, and Molly felt as if she was about to faint. She felt him tugging at her britches, and couldn't help letting out an involuntary scream. She was trapped, and he was going to force himself upon her. Thanks to her knowledge of anatomy, she knew what that entailed, and she also knew it would be dirty, disgusting and painful, when there was only lust involved and the consent of only one party. To have her body violated intimately by a man she did not love was a terrifying prospect.
Save me, Sherlock, save me, she pleaded in her mind, as the man fumbled with his own britches, having succeeded in pulling hers downwards and exposing her fully to him. And the tears began to stream down her cheeks as she awaited her fate.
Author's note: Oh no! Will Sherlock arrive in time? Aren't I cruel to leave this on such a cliffhanger? You'll have to wait a week to find out, unless I am persuaded by anxious requests to publish another chapter earlier LOL.
Well, it certainly appears that Molly is in love with Sherlock, but what do you think Sherlock feels about her? Is she stirring feelings of sentiment within him as well? You probably have noticed that I am now referring to them both by name, because they are now on a first name basis.
Following/favouriting and reviewing is like watering the garden of my stories, so do more than just read and please help to keep my creativity blooming!
By the way, thank you to guest reviewer eve and the other guest who left a review on the first chapter. It is always nice to hear from those surprise guest reviewers as well, and I am happy to talk further with anyone who decides to make an account. Good to hear from you again!
Let's work together to keep the memory of Sherlolly alive, even as the fandom shrinks due to lack of new source material!