Sherlock Holmes had always prided himself on being a man who could view the world with a keen scientific eye and not let sentiment cloud his judgment. However, there was something that was challenging this, a small beautiful woman, Miss Molly Hooper.
His brother, Mycroft, insisted that it was time for Sherlock to marry. Mycroft had the idea that if he wanted society to overlook his detective work and experiments they would be more apt to if he showed them that he was similar to them by taking a wife. While Sherlock frankly didn't give a toss about what society thought of him he did care about Mummy and what it would mean to her. He couldn't bear her losing her place in London society simply because of her eccentric sons. So Sherlock had reluctantly allowed Mycroft to search for a suitable wife.
Sherlock didn't really care what wife Mycroft found for him as long as she wasn't a simpleton. Now, here he was betrothed to marry Miss Molly Hooper, daughter of Thomas Hooper a mortician. The family was a solid middle class family and had been appreciative of the Holmes family wanting to marry their daughter.
Everyone had accepted their betrothal with delight with the exception of his bride to be. He knew Molly balked at the idea of a member of the peerage asking for her hand in marriage and her family receiving money in exchange. He couldn't understand her resentment though it was beneficial to her and to her family.
He had come to this ball tonight to spend time with his fiancée and find out more about her thoughts. He entered the ballroom and scanned the room for her and then found his eyes locked with her beautiful chocolate brown ones. He had to admit to himself that Mycroft had done well in choosing Molly, she was petite and very pretty, she was also highly intelligent and would undoubtedly help him in his cases and experiments. He felt a deep well of satisfaction that she would soon be his bride.