And here we are! The big party chapter! And it certainly turned into a big chapter haha! Sorry about that, it kind of ran away from me. Though I'm hoping most of my readers enjoy a longer chapter. :) I just have to make a little note of encouragement right away here. So, if you reach a point and you start cursing my name and wondering why you're reading this when it's not going at all the way you thought it would...just keep reading. I think you'll be happy once you read the whole thing, but as we all know, sometimes things have to get worse first before they get better. You'll see what I mean! *insert evil laugh* Get to reading, and I'll see you at the bottom for another note on historical accuracy stuff. I'm saving that till the end since I don't want to give anything away! ;)
John crossed the sea of grass, and as he rounded a bunch of shrubbery he could hear Sherlock talking in a low soft voice. He stood there next to the bee skep, inspecting things and talking rather non-stop about who knows what.
"Sherlock?" John called out from some distance.
"Ah, hello, Watson!" he waved. "Best to stay over there as I have no extra protective gear for you at present."
"Yes, I was certainly planning on it. Will you be long?"
"No, I was just finishing up actually. Things are coming along nicely, and it seems that these bees are well settled in."
"Your mother sent me to look for you. I think she just wanted to make sure you hadn't made an escape for London when nobody was looking! If I'm not mistaken, she has high hopes for this party tonight, but it would rather defeat her purposes if you were absent."
Sherlock set the hackle back over the skep and began making his way toward where John stood. He removed the hat and veil, then the gloves as he spoke. "Thank you for the warning. Now I am considering running off to London!"
"Oh, don't be silly, I'm sure you'll enjoy it!"
"I can't easily enjoy myself if I know what the underlying expectations are. You've proven to be no help at all! I ask you here, hoping that I could deflect any matchmaking to you, and you promptly fall for my cousin less than sixty seconds after your arrival!" Sherlock huffed.
"I'm not sure I would have been able to make your mother forget that you're unmarried one way or the other, Holmes," John laughed. "I'm not that good at distraction! Besides, would it really be so horrible? A wife, I mean."
"It's...not for me."
"But why? Don't you think you may feel that way simply because you've never met a woman who's company you truly enjoy?"
Sherlock stopped walking and faced his friend. "It is an unnecessary distraction, Watson! I cannot focus on both a wife, and my work. It would not be a happy union." He turned again and kept walking forward.
John watched him for a moment as they walked. "And do you believe that because of your brother's marriage?" he asked tentatively.
Sherlock was silent at first, and he seemed hesitant when he spoke. "My brother was foolish enough to ask, and she was foolish enough to say yes. But they are not the first, and will certainly not be the last to enter into a lifetime of connection to another person with whom they share little or no sentiment. They are simply one of many...but yes, they do prove a point rather clearly. I honestly do not see the point. I neither pine for companionship or children, so why bother with all of it?"
"Well then, I'll repeat what I said. Perhaps you just haven't met a woman who you really enjoy being with."
"I cannot see that altering my feelings on the matter so quickly. I've enjoyed the company of women before!" he said haughtily.
John smiled and nodded. "Ah yes, I suppose you have. Miss Hooper for example?"
Sherlock looked suddenly defensive. "Miss Hooper simply happens to have interests that are similar to my own. She doesn't constantly occupy herself with stitching, or any other mundane pointless task such as that. In comparison with other women, her company is certainly...tolerable."
"Just tolerable?" John pressed, beginning to show his amusement.
Sherlock exhaled loudly in irritation. "There will be no convincing argument made to you. You cannot see past your own ridiculous sentiment at the moment!"
John laughed. "I must confess that I'd like to see you as happy as I feel. There's no crime in that."
"Mmm...crime," Sherlock murmured longingly.
John laughed even harder. "But obviously you've got a long way to go! Just try to enjoy yourself tonight, alright? For everyone else sake, if nothing else. Nobody wants to watch you sulking all night. Just dance, and pay no mind to anybody's expectations or hopes!"
"Fine," he answered quietly as they neared the house. "I'll do my best."
"I've got to go see a patient before the party tonight, but I'll be back well in time. Try not to upset anyone before I get back."
"Wouldn't want you to miss it," Sherlock smirked.
John walked off and left Sherlock on his own. He sat on the stone steps in front of his home and looked out into the quiet and empty expanse, knowing that in a matter of hours, it would be far from empty, and even further from quiet.
"What do you think, Miss?"
Molly turned around and looked into the mirror, examining her hair. "Oh, it's lovely, Mrs. Hart! You've done a beautiful job, and I'm very grateful. I'd never manage something like this if I had attempted it myself."
Her hair was curled in soft waves and pinned perfectly to the back of her head. A few small tendrils were set free around her face, and she loved the way it softened her features, which she didn't believe held much appeal on their own.
Mrs. Hart added a few small white flowers to the back, nestling them in among the curls. "Does it feel secure enough?"
Molly moved her head about and felt with her hands. "I think so, yes. I shouldn't be in danger of losing any pins. I'm not sure I'll need to worry about my hair falling out anyway. I can't imagine I'll be dancing all that much. I've barely ever attended a party such as this."
"Don't talk like that!" the housekeeper chided. "You look just as lovely as any other woman who could be there tonight! The Holmes cared to invite you, and that means you're just as worthy as anybody else. I am sure you'll be introduced to many new people tonight."
"You're very sweet. But I can't help feeling a bit nervous. I'm...I'm not a very good dancer." Molly stood from the chair as Mrs. Hart had gotten her gown ready to put on.
"You'll do just fine. It's just your nerves that get the better of you! As long as you relax, you'll have no trouble at all."
Easier said than done, Molly thought as she stepped into the buttery yellow cotton dress. She couldn't help but smile though, as Mrs. Hart did up the dress and she saw herself in the glass. It wasn't made of fine fabric, and it hadn't been sewn in an expensive shop. The tiny embroidered white flowers that gradually grew in number as the eye traveled down to the hem, had been painstakingly done by her, and not by a professional. And the same could be said of the bit of lace that accentuated the edge of the capped sleeves. But it suited her, and even she could see that. Despite the fact that most women attending the party would surely be more finely dressed than this, she couldn't quite see herself in anything much different. For better or worse, she looked like herself.
"There you are, Miss. All done, and you look pretty as a picture!" the woman sighed as she stepped back.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hart. I suppose I am ready. Best be going as soon as we can. Who knows how long father will be able to stay. I should consider it a luxury if I'm able to enjoy more than one dance!" she smiled.
"Yes, go! It'll be wonderful. I'm sure you'll both able to relax and enjoy yourselves!"
Molly smiled at the housekeeper and took her gloves from off the bed as she walked out of the room. She was more than a little jittery, and she hoped that the night would prove to be as lovely as Mrs. Hart was making it out to be.
"Mr. Holmes?" Mrs. Hudson poked her head into the door of Sherlock's lab in the basement.
"Yes, Mrs. Hudson?" he looked up from the microscope.
"Your mother sent me to find you. There's a number of guests here already, and you can no longer be spared."
Sherlock sighed as he straightened up and strode over to the door. "I suppose it's time to come out of hiding," he said with a smile at his housekeeper.
"And don't you look handsome?" she smiled back and gave his cheek a little pat. "It would be a shame to keep the best dance partner hidden away down in the basement wouldn't it?"
"If only I could dance every set with you, Mrs. Hudson," he smirked playfully. "What a pair we would make!"
"Oh, now stop it!" she laughed. "You get upstairs and find a lovely young lady to enjoy the music with!"
"You be sure to make your way to the kitchen and sneak some of those little tarts they'll be passing around. They'll be gone before the night is half done, so you'd better hurry." Sherlock threw her a wink as he passed by her and continued on down the hall and toward the stairs.
Sherlock heard the musicians warming up as he made his way up the stairs, and saw that the crowd was indeed already gathering. He quickly spotted John and made his way over.
"Miss Hawkins is here," was the first thing John said.
"Is that meant to excite me?" Sherlock asked in a monotone.
"You should care to have some women present who you've actually met. You'll want to have at least a few dance partners to choose from, to start the evening at least. I'm sure as the party moves along you'll be introduced to countless more though."
"Lamentably so," he answered, and began scanning the ever growing crowd, though he wasn't sure what for.
"Looking for someone?" John asked.
"Of course not."
John smiled. "Hopefully I'll see you on the dance floor very soon. So if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go secure my first dance partner."
"Don't let me stop you, Watson." Sherlock gave him a sideways smile.
"Thank you, I never do." And John smiled back and walked over to the other side of the room where Mary was standing with Lady Holmes and Anthea.
Sherlock watched as Mary smiled at his obvious request for the first dance...no, the first two dances based on the width of her smile. He also happened to make eye contact with his mother, who began making clear facial expressions at him to ask someone to dance. Sherlock looked away and rolled his eyes. He made another quick scan of the room and still saw very few women he already knew.
Reluctantly, he crossed the room and made his way toward Mrs. Hawkins and her daughter Janine, who seemed to be watching his every move anyway.
"Oh, good evening, Mr. Holmes!" Mrs. Hawkins gushed, immediately beaming that he'd come over to speak to them.
"Yes, good evening, Mrs. Hawkins," he managed before looking at Janine. "Would you do me the honor of the first dance, Miss Hawkins?"
"Certainly, Mr. Holmes, thank you," Janine accepted with a smile and look that was nothing short of flirtatious, and Sherlock immediately began to regret his decision in choosing to ask her.
Sherlock bowed and quickly walked away again toward his family with a weary expression that was not lost on his brother.
"And so the evening begins," Mycroft smiled wryly.
"I don't believe I need any commentary, Mycroft," Sherlock said gruffly.
"I'm so pleased you asked Miss Hawkins to dance!" their mother began, not caring about the boys bickering. "She's a lovely young lady! Did you request one dance or two?"
"One, mother."
"Better to secure two dances, darling. Perhaps you won't get another chance! Surely other young men will want to dance with Miss Hawkins!"
"They have my blessing," Sherlock answered. "I've no desire for more than one dance."
Lady Holmes let out a huff of irritation. "What more could you want, Sherlock? She's got a good family, she's one of the loveliest women in the entire room, and for some reason she can't keep her eyes off you! In what way is she lacking?"
"I'd venture to say that Sherlock wouldn't be able to explain it if he tried," Mary said with an understanding smile at her cousin.
Sherlock gave Mary a half smile...which drew his attention to the open doorway, and something else entirely caught his eye.
"Oh look! There's Dr. Hooper and his daughter!" Anthea said happily.
Sherlock locked eyes with Molly Hooper the second she'd stepped into the ballroom, and there were a few moments in which that connection could not be broken. Molly was the one to look away first, evidently with a bit of shyness, and it was then that the music began for the first dance. Sherlock saw Molly and her father make their way into the crowded room, and he felt a sudden sense of disappointment at the fact that he now had to go fetch Janine Hawkins.
But fetch her he did, and they danced. Sherlock endured the mundane obligatory conversation that took place as they moved along with the rest of the dancers. Janine spoke of the weather, and how much she enjoyed the summer, and how much Sherlock must enjoy some time away from the city, and what lovely things she'd heard about his London flat. Sherlock laughed inwardly at this comment. Clearly the town's residence had invented things in their gossip and made up their own minds about his city existence. It amused Sherlock to imagine their shock at seeing his actual living conditions.
At one point during their dance, Sherlock happened to look over and see Molly standing with her father, who was conversing with another gentleman... and she was watching him. When Sherlock noticed this, she quickly looked away and he saw her chewing nervously on her lower lip and trying to act as if she was looking somewhere else.
"Mr. Holmes? Mr. Holmes?"
"Hmm?" he suddenly remembered to acknowledge Janine as the music and dance was coming to an end.
"I wasn't sure you heard me. I was just saying that my parents are very much looking forward to having a party of their own this summer. I'm sure you and your family will be most welcome," she said, closely examining his face as she spoke. He had taken her hand by now and was leading her off the dance floor and back to where her mother sat.
Sherlock didn't really make a response to Janine's statement. He simply released her hand and gave her an obligatory tight smile. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Hawkins."
"Thank you Mr.-" but he'd already bowed quickly and turned on his heels to walk away. Janine and her mother exchanged a look.
"My...what a very odd man," Mrs. Hawkins remarked.
Sherlock rejoined his family, and was forced to meet a number of people and families whom he had no desire to speak to. He was clearly being pushed to meet eligible young women, since almost every family he was introduced to had at least one daughter. There was a lot of conspicuous clearing of John Watson's throat in an effort to remind Sherlock to at least be civil.
He didn't dance that next set of dances, having been made to meet so many guests, but now his mother began to pester him again to find a partner. He'd now been introduced to almost every single woman in the ballroom, and Lady Holmes thought it ridiculous that he waste any more time standing idle.
Sherlock was feeling awfully defiant at that moment, and knew exactly what he'd like to do about it. It gave him an immense amount of pleasure to stride confidently across the room to the one woman that his mother wouldn't have picked out as his dance partner...Molly Hooper.
Molly looked up from the glass in her hand with wide eyes and parted lips.
"Good evening, Dr. Hooper," he said, addressing her father first.
"Yes, good evening Mr. Holmes. A lovely party, and we're both very pleased to have been included...aren't we, Molly?" The man looked expectantly at his daughter who was still in some sort of trance.
"Yes um, thank you for including us."
"You're very welcome, though you'll have my women in the family to thank for that. I've nothing to do with guest lists...Now, Miss Hooper," he began looking down at her, "would you consider dancing the next with me?"
Molly had to swallow hard first, then opened her mouth, forcing words to come out. "I um- yes, Mr. Holmes, thank you, I will."
He threw them both a quick smile, then he walked away till the time came to collect Miss Hooper for the dance.
Molly placed a hand on her stomach and let out a heavy breath that she'd been holding onto. Her father reached over and took the glass she was clutching.
"My dear, do relax," he said with a small smile.
"I- I'm fine!" she said with a little laugh that was meant to validate her words.
But she really wasn't fine, especially a few minutes later when the next dance was announced as the Cotillion. The rapid and frequent changes of the steps in that dance had always been the hardest for her to master, and without the extent of training that most ladies in the room had benefited from...
"Oh, God help me," she whispered to herself.
And as soon as her desperate plea had been uttered, Sherlock came back over with arm outstretched. She placed her small gloved hand in his much larger one, and her worries were momentarily allayed as she reveled in the feeling of his fingers being wrapped around her own. They took their places among the other dancers, and the music began.
For almost the first minute, Molly began to calm down. Things were going rather well, she thought...until she bumped into another gentleman, and they stopped going so well.
That was how it started, and it only continued from there. The mortification Molly immediately felt at moving in the wrong direction and bumping into another dancer only served to make her more nervous. She felt her face heat up and turn a deep shade of red. She hazarded a glance at her perfectly composed and graceful dance partner and Sherlock frowned ever so slightly, wondering what was happening to her, and of course this upset her even more. She made one, then two, then three more missteps or wrong turns in the course of those next few minutes, and it was not long before her elation at dancing with Sherlock Holmes had turned into nothing more than anxiety.
Molly became desperate for some sort of distraction, and thought that she should break the terrible silence between the two of them.
"Mr. Holmes, have you done any more interesting experiments lately, or perhaps-"
"Perhaps, Miss Hooper, it would be best if we focus on the dance and save the distraction of conversation for another time," he answered quickly.
That was the last straw. It was all Molly could do not to burst into tears at that very moment. What could be worse? Her own partner didn't even want to converse for fear it would turn her into an even more inept dancer than she already was! She wanted nothing more than for the dance to be over, and she was more than sure he felt the same.
Mercifully, a minute later, the music finally came to a halt and they all bowed. Molly placed her trembling hand in Sherlock's once again and they walked back over to where Molly's father sat watching. He was carefully watching his daughter's face, and looked at her with compassionate concern.
Sherlock bowed and said, "Thank you, Miss Hooper," as he released her hand. He saw the color of her cheeks, and the way her chest rose and fell so rapidly, and her reluctance to meet his eyes, and he knew she was more than embarrassed.
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes," she uttered quickly with only a brief look up at him. Sherlock didn't walk off instantly, as she'd hoped he would, so she knew she would have to be the one to make an exit. If not, she would have the added shame of crying in front of him.
"Forgive me, um...please excuse me," she said to both her father and Sherlock, and then left the ballroom, through a different door than she'd come through upon their arrival.
There was an awkward moment of silence between the two men left in her wake as they both looked at each other. Dr. Hooper began working to rise from where he sat, with some difficulty. "Perhaps I should go and-"
"With your permission, Dr. Hooper," Sherlock immediately cut in, "allow me."
Dr. Hooper regarded Sherlock with a discerning eye, and after a moment of silence, he nodded his head in acceptance. Sherlock gave him one nod in return, and turned away.
Dr. Hooper watched the tall dark haired man walk off in pursuit of his distressed daughter, and he wondered if this could possibly end up being a moment that he would look back on fondly...
Molly was grateful that she inadvertently took a helpful route out of the ballroom. She walked through an adjoining sitting room, which held a wall of doors that led out to a massive terrace overlooking the back property of Seaborne. She let herself out and walked over to the stone railing. She laid her forearms against it's cool smoothness as she tilted her head upward to look at the moon, and for a moment, she felt some peace, even though she also had to swipe away a bit of moisture from her eyes. What a fool she'd been to think this would be some sort of special evening...Then she heard the sound of another pair of footsteps on the terrace.
Oh God, please just go away, she begged in her head as she saw Sherlock walking in her direction. She turned back toward the open sky and hills, and tried to ignore the fact that he'd come to a stop a few feet away, resting his arms on the stone in mirror image of her. The silence between them was killing her, and she began to contemplate making another embarrassing exit.
"In case you are assuming that I have been somehow shamed and offended by your less than perfect dancing skills, let me remind you that I pay little mind to what others think of me. In fact I rather prefer to stand away from the crowd."
Molly's head turned at his words, and he looked to her as well. She saw that he was serious. Molly pressed her lips together and looked away again before clearing her throat and answering.
"All the same, forgive me. I had hoped I would do better than that. I've just...never been good at those dances. I have a difficult time always going the right way. There are so many changes to remember. It's just my own lack of practice of course." There was still shame coloring her words as she played with the buttons on her gloves.
Sherlock nodded to himself as he listened. "I myself also tire of dances such as that," he said with a sigh.
Molly looked at him and frowned. "But you dance so well. I'm sure you are never once out of step."
He shrugged casually and turned to face her while still leaning on the stone. "Perhaps, but being good at something does not mean that one cannot tire of it... I have long wished that there were other sorts of dances that could be incorporated into parties such as this."
Molly continued to look a bit confused. "Other sorts of dances?"
Sherlock first smiled in reply as a plan formulated in his mind, then he asked, "Have you heard of the waltz, Miss Hooper?"
Molly immediately turned a little pink and her eyes shifted away for a moment. Of course she'd heard of the waltz. She'd heard of how wildly inappropriate it was!
"Um, yes, of course I have," she answered quietly.
Sherlock pushed himself away from the railing and took a few steps around the terrace as he spoke again. "It really is an excellent form of dancing. Simpler, in a way, but it also offers much more freedom of movement." He looked at her with a little gleam of pleasure in his eyes. "In fact, I do believe that you would be much more at ease while dancing the waltz, in comparison to the more typical group dances. What do you say? Shall we give it a try?"
Molly's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to...Question his logic? Hotly protest? Beg to begin?...She honestly wasn't quite sure.
Sherlock's own face formed the expression of a wordless Ah, I see, and he clicked his tongue before he answered with a hint of humor in his voice. "I have offended you. Perhaps you would prefer if I made an exit and left you alone to contemplate the intricate and restrictive rules of propriety that our society is currently a slave to. My apologies." He began to turn slowly away.
"W-wait!" Oh, she was almost positive she was about to regret this, for one reason or another.
Sherlock turned back, facing her with a still amused look on his face. "Yes, Miss Hooper?"
"I um- yes, I would like to...give it a try," she said with a nod to punctuate her brave declaration.
"Hm, I thought you might. And I can just hear the music. This should work nicely enough." He smiled, and then the business like expression returned as he walked over to stand a few feet away from her. "Now, I will demonstrate the basic steps and you will, of course, be mirroring them when we do actually dance. Watch closely...Now try to keep count as I'm doing this. Count, one, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three, and so on."
Molly watched his feet move in the admittedly simple steps, and she softly counted along as he'd instructed.
"Now, try to move your feet in time. You may count to yourself if that is helpful."
Molly hesitated at first, feeling incredibly self-conscious given not only the recent dancing atrocity, but also the intimacy of this new dancing experience. But finally she began moving her feet along with his, trying to mirror his steps accurately. She huffed in frustration as she took her first misstep and stopped.
"You see, there is another reason why this sort of dance would be to your benefit, Miss Hooper." With that, he stepped over till he was toe to toe with her, standing at a dizzying proximity. Then he spoke in a low tone as his lip curled in a smile. "I will lead."
Molly looked up at him and managed a nervous smile in return, as he went on.
"So, I would place my hand, just here." Sherlock slipped his right hand around her torso, placing it against her left shoulder blade. "And you would place your hand on my arm, just below my shoulder."
Molly slowly brought her hand up and placed it where he'd instructed and then raised her eyes back up to his as he began to speak again.
"And then I take your right hand with my left," which he did, "and we would begin."
"Alright," Molly whispered back.
They started moving then, along with the music that they could just barely hear. Molly was counting furiously in her head, and she was sure that her heart was going to beat right out of her chest and bounce away. She kept her eyes mostly downward, monitoring her feet closely and noticing every time she didn't match his steps perfectly.
"Miss Hooper?" he finally said softly.
"Hmm?" she answered, still looking at her struggling feet.
"Miss Hooper, you are throwing off your balance."
"What? How do you mean?"
"Look at me."
Molly's head snapped up and she looked at him for a moment, but then looked back down a moment later. Sherlock stopped dancing and his hand came around from her back to gently grasp her chin, tilting her head back up and connecting their eyes again.
"Keep looking at me," he emphasized, with a smile. "Do not look at your feet; keep your eyes on mine."
This was a lot to ask, for more than one reason. Molly already felt like her entire body was about to burst into flames, but to add constant eye contact to the equation was beyond daunting. She also couldn't understand how not watching her feet could somehow improve her dancing. But she did as he said as they began moving again, and she swore to herself that even if a storm began raging around them, she was not going to break her connection with those eyes.
"There," he said. "That helps, doesn't it?"
"Yes, I suppose it does," she smiled back, beginning to relax into the steps and actually enjoying the feeling.
"You're doing much better. Now, watch this." Sherlock used the hand on her waist to give her a little nudge and spin her under his arm that he raised, then he brought her back in to their original stance.
Molly smiled and laughed a little. "Now you've ruined my lovely steps! I was doing so well!"
"Ah, but that's the trick. If you practice a bit more, you'll be able to keep the steps going even during the spin."
He was right. After a couple more attempts, Molly was able to keep from halting the steps her feet were supposed to take, even as she spun under his arm. She was really enjoying this, and she was more than enjoying the feeling of dancing with him.
"It's a shame we can't dance like this at every party...Well, I don't mean us exactly! I just meant everyone. It's a shame everyone can't dance like this."
Sherlock smirked at her misspoken words. "Too much contact, of course. Can't be stirring up improper feelings between dancing couples! Rather laughable," he scoffed.
It occurred to Molly, in that moment, that he didn't see that as a problem. Even though she was basking in the joy of dancing with this man who she couldn't deny she felt an especially strong attraction to, she was a little cut down by the tone of his words. In essence, he was implying that sort of impropriety was not an issue for them. Therefore, he must not view her in such a way at all. She was thrilled at the idea that she'd become a friend of Sherlock Holmes, and at the same time crushed, because it seemed likely that was all she'd ever be. She listened as he went on.
"As I said, I care nothing for the acceptance and company of others. We should feel free to steal away at any such party and enjoy a more modern form of dancing if we please."
"I would like that, yes," she answered quite honestly.
"Good," he smiled back.
Just then, the music began to slow, and just as he was about to release her, John Watson walked out onto the terrace.
"Holmes! Holmes, are you- Oh... there you are." John looked back and forth between the two people. Molly had quickly stepped away upon John's arrival, but it wasn't exactly a mystery as to what he'd just walked in on. "I was just coming to tell you that Dr. Hooper was looking for his daughter, but I see I've found you both. How convenient," John smiled.
"Is he alright?" Molly asked, stepping forward.
"He's fine, but was coughing a bit. When I was assisting him, he mentioned that you'd be gone for a few minutes, and he hoped you hadn't gotten lost. I told him I'd look for you."
Sherlock realized that Dr. Hooper was likely not concerned about his daughter being lost, seeing as the man knew he'd followed after her. His concern was probably of a very different sort, but Sherlock decided not to voice this deduction.
"Thank you Dr. Watson, I'll see to him." Molly began to walk off, but turned quickly with a brief smile at Sherlock. "Oh, and thank you, Mr. Holmes."
"You're welcome, Miss Hooper."
Molly walked away, and a moment later, John Watson turned to look at Sherlock with brows raised high and eyes wide. "Holmes, what exactly are you playing at?"
"What exactly do you mean?" Sherlock asked in a playfully challenging tone.
John shook his head and sighed. "Be careful."
Sherlock gave a little huff of dismissal.
"I'm being very serious," John said, and his tone indeed was serious. "Are you falling in love with Miss Hooper?"
Sherlock looked at him like he'd just sprouted a couple extra heads. "Don't be ridiculous, Watson! You know me better than that. We were dancing, that is all!"
"Then do not give her hope when you're intent is friendship! That woman is about to lose quite a lot, and her life will never be the same. Do not take anything else away from her. And that includes her good name! That is one of the only things she will have once her father is gone, and if she loses that, then where will she be?!"
"I have not indicated that my intent was anything other than that of friendship. She's an intelligent woman, I'm sure she will not jump to conclusions! And as for her good name, I think you know me better than to assume I'd do anything to ruin that." He gave John a brief glare.
"And do you think it takes much more than a private moonlit waltz to ruin a woman's reputation? Do not be foolish, that's all I'm saying. Besides, perhaps you should think about the possibility of pursuing something more."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Haven't we just spoken on this topic earlier today?"
John threw his hands up. "Alright, alright, I'll say no more tonight! Just, please, remember what I said. Come on, we need to rejoin the party."
Sherlock did rejoin the party, but he didn't enjoy himself all that much. He endured three more dances with some other eager young ladies, but there was little appeal, even in the dancing anymore. He noticed that another young man asked Molly to dance as well. She did better than she had with him, it being a simpler dance. But for some reason, the scene gave him little pleasure to witness. Frankly, he wanted the evening to be over by that time. He wanted to retreat to his library, or his lab, or maybe even his bed.
Dr. Hooper stayed only another hour, and then had to leave due to more discomfort and coughing. Molly gave Sherlock a look from across the room as she made her exit, and he watched her disappear through the doors. He looked around the room, locating the people he was closest to. John was dancing with Mary, Mycroft was sulking in the corner with Anthea not far off, and his mother would push him to dance with more young women if he got too close to her.
It was not five minute later that Sherlock decided the night was officially over. He sneaked off to his lab, and did what he could to entertain himself till the noises and guests slowly faded away. By the time he ventured back upstairs, the house was dark and quiet.
But for some reason, Sherlock didn't go right upstairs. Instead, he went out on the terrace. He stayed there for quite a long time. And it was only his desire for warmth that eventually drove him back inside.
It inexplicably felt so much colder than when he'd been there some hours before.
Ok, so I hope you all enjoyed that! I've actually had that dancing scene in my head almost since when I first came up with this fic. I've been looking forward to writing it for quite some time!
So here's the part where I confess my historical accuracy sins lol! (I feel especially obligated to do this since I JUST got complimented by a reader for doing research, and here I am flying in the face of research haha!) So the truth is that the waltz that we know today, and that I described in this chapter, was not the waltz that people knew of in those days. It was a different looking dance. So basically, I bent the rules. Everything else was true though. They didn't consider the waltz to be appropriate and it would absolutely not have been done at a party like that. I definitely did look up info about dances and parties back then, and I tried to be as accurate as possible. But just in case any of you are closet historians and are thinking I don't know what I'm talking about, I figured I'd admit that yes, I do know I colored outside the lines a bit. I hope it was worth it, and that you liked what I did! Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts, and I'll see you next chapter! ;)