I was rather speedy this time around! And especially considering that the length of this chapter really got away from me, wow! There's not a ton of actually Sherlock and Molly interaction in this one, but it is actually a really important chapter. It's setting some big things up! I'm also trying to cover some of the side stories going on with the other characters, so that took up some space too. Anyway, hope you enjoy this latest, and I'll see you at the end! ;)
Anthea came out of her room and closed the door behind her. As she did, she saw that Mycroft had just exited his own room next door, and they briefly made eye contact. Her husband turned to begin walking down the hall toward the stairway. Anthea hurried to catch up with him for a brief moment of privacy before they were once again surrounded by others.
"Darling, where did you go last night? I woke, and was disappointed to find you gone," she said as she followed along next to him.
"I returned to my room, of course. Where else would I have gone?" he answered, looking uncomfortable.
"You needn't do that. I would have slept easier had you stayed. And surely servants have come across a man in his wife's bed a time or two," she added with a small laugh, trying to lighten the interchange.
Mycroft sighed and turned toward her as they halted at the top of the stairs. "Anthea, honestly! This is hardly the time or place for this sort of talk!"
"And what alternative do you leave me?" she asked desperately. "We are barely ever alone! And it seems to be by your design!"
"Anthea," he shook his head, "please...I am trying."
"You are not trying, Mycroft, please don't lie. That is not what you are doing." She lowered her voice a bit for his benefit. "What you are doing is paying your wife a brief visit once a week, and then sneaking off as if you've committed a sin!"
Mycroft's eyes widened in horror. "Why are we speaking of this?!"
"I don't know what else to do! I don't know what not to do either!" her voice began to shake. "Have I done something wrong? I wanted us to be happy. I wanted us to grow in feeling for one another. And, God help me, I have! But you haven't, and I wish I knew why. Do you care at all about us? Do you even want to love me?!"
"Anthea!" he said, raising his voice, then pressing his lips together tightly to regain his composure. He softened his voice a bit as he continued. "I am giving you all that I have to offer. I wish that you would not press me for more."
Husband and wife stared at each other silently and sadly for a moment, then Anthea spoke again softly. "I will not press you for more, Mycroft, if that is what you need from me. But please understand, please never forget, that I will never stop wishing for more."
Anthea left Mycroft standing there at the top of the stairs, rather speechless for a moment. He swallowed hard and had to take a deep breath before following his wife down the stairs to join the rest of their family.
"Good morning, Mary," Anthea smiled, doing her best to forget about the interchange upstairs.
"Good morning," Mary answered, turning briefly away from John who she sat with by the window. "I'm looking forward to this afternoon."
"As am I! It'll be a lovely visit, I'm sure."
"What's this?" John asked.
"We asked Miss Hooper to tea this afternoon," Mary explained.
"Ah, how nice. Be sure your cousin doesn't steal her away," he chuckled.
Mary laughed at the thought, "I'm sure we can hold onto our guest."
John shrugged. "I've given you fair warning...Be sure to give her my regards. I'll be paying her father a visit while she's here I believe. I need to see how the poor man is holding up."
"Is he very bad?" Mary asked with a sad look.
"He is. He'll likely be gone by summer's end."
"Oh, I didn't realize! How awful. Poor Miss Hooper! She will have nobody!"
"I am sure her father thinks of little else as well. It is certainly a time for all of us to do what we can for them. And it is a time when she will be glad to have the company of good friends." John gave Mary a warm smile.
"I will be glad to do whatever I can, of course," she smiled back.
John couldn't look away from those eyes. He wondered how it was possible to hold back much longer. He would have to speak honestly soon, and he hoped he hadn't misread the clues as to what her response would be.
"Miss Morstan, I...I wonder if I may speak to you...privately. Perhaps after dinner tonight?" John asked slowly.
Mary's expression suddenly changed a bit. She looked sad. "Perhaps, Dr. Watson. Ask me again after dinner."
"Alright, I will speak to you again," John said, looking pleased.
Mary's pulse raced and she tried desperately to think what she should do. Had she been a fool to entertain this friendship even for a few weeks' time? She chastised herself for not keeping her heart more closely guarded. She'd been reckless, and now she would be forced to pay the price with an undoubted humiliating rejection.
"Where is Sherlock?" Lady Holmes asked from the breakfast table.
"He was here a little while ago," Mary explained. "He came in and took a piece of bread, then said he was going to be in his lab."
"That boy," his mother sighed. "I absolutely do not know what to do with him!"
"He doesn't know what to do with himself," John muttered.
Only Mary heard him, and she had to control the volume of her giggle.
"Father, are you sure you can spare me? I can send word that I'm needed here at home."
"Absolutely not!" Dr. Hooper managed between coughs. "You will have tea with Miss Morstan and Mrs. Holmes, I will not have you cancel because of me. I am perfectly fine. Besides, Dr. Watson is going to see me today, and will be here shortly."
"Alright," Molly said reluctantly.
"Perhaps you will also see Mr. Sherlock Holmes today as well?"
"Well, I don't know. He will likely be busy with his own affairs. He tries to keep occupied, you see. He keeps bees, and he does experiments." Her eyes lit up a bit as she added, "He has so many microscopes, you wouldn't believe it! It's a marvelous collection! He examines things and records his findings."
"Does he? Hmm," Dr. Hooper answered, watching the change in his daughter's features. "And you've...seen this collection?"
Molly's began to flush a bit. "He um, has a sort of...lab, at Seaborne. He showed me once...It was nice."
"I see." Dr. Hooper smiled slyly. "Mr. Holmes must think very highly of you to include you in such a thing."
Molly blushed much darker now as she laughed nervously. "Oh no! No, no, it's nothing like that, father. We are just...friends."
"Friends?" Dr. Hooper questioned, seeming less than convinced.
"Mm hmm," Molly smiled, trying to seem relaxed.
"So he hasn't expressed any...interest?" he asked pointedly.
"No, no, none at all...which is fine!" she answered quickly, with a far too cheerful smile.
Her father nodded again, quietly considering the facts at hand as Molly puttered around their sitting room, readying herself to leave.
Nicholas Hooper thought about everything that had happened over the past few weeks, and began to feel tightness in his chest. And it was not the sort that had anything to do with his physical illness. In a matter of minutes, he went from a father with the very highest sort of hopes and dreams for his daughter's future, to a father in fear for his daughter's reputation and well-being. He was afraid something may need to be done about it.
It was an extremely uncomfortable feeling.
"You looked absolutely beautiful that night, Miss Hooper! And nobody in that room would have said differently!" Anthea smiled.
"Oh, you're both very kind," she said shyly. "It was the only gown that was anywhere near right for the occasion, so I'm glad you think it was appropriate."
"Of course it was," Mary assured her. "Oh, but will you and your father be attending the Hawkins' ball in a fortnight?"
Molly shrugged. "Perhaps. We were pleased to get an invitation, but I suppose it will depend on how my father is feeling."
"Surely your father would want you to attend even if he is not quite well enough! And perhaps you'll need something else to wear. Your dress was lovely, as we said, but perhaps you'd prefer not to wear the same thing again."
Molly looked a little confused and uncomfortable. "Well, I'm not sure if I really can..."
"I'd very much like to let you borrow something of mine, Miss Hooper," Mary offered happily.
Molly's eyes got wide. "Oh no, I couldn't! That is far too kind of you, Miss Morstan!"
"No, it isn't!" she laughed. "It would give me great pleasure to see more of my gowns getting some use. I insist you take something home with you today!"
"I- I don't quite know what to say," Molly said, beginning to smile at them both.
"Say yes, of course! And I want to see as well! I hope you'll let me help choose," Anthea said excitedly.
"I'm sure I'll be pleased to have the help of you both," Molly said very honestly. "I believe I am better at medicine than fashion."
"And do not apologize for it, my dear! Would that we all had the skills to save the lives of those around us...Or perhaps, on occasion, poison them!" Mary whispered with a giggle, and then all three of them began laughing.
"Would you like some more tea?" Anthea offered Molly.
Molly was just about to open her mouth in answer when they heard the sound of the front door open and close with a crash. A moment later, a figure came whooshing past the door, and the three women looked at each other. Molly was pretty sure that was...
Suddenly Sherlock rushed back and appeared in the doorway with eyes looking a little wild. "Ah, Miss Hooper! How fortunate that you are here!"
"M-me?" she questioned, gesturing to herself.
"Yes, you are Miss Hooper, are you not?" he said with a sigh of exasperation as he came into the room and approached Molly where she sat. Then he turned to Mary and Anthea with an apologetic grimace. "Forgive me, ladies, but I must borrow your guest. Won't be long!"
"Wait, what?" Mary frowned.
Sherlock turned back toward Molly. "Miss Hooper, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the lab for a moment? There's a small favor I must ask of you." He gave her a winning smile that made it difficult for her to say anything but yes.
Molly hesitantly rose from her seat while looking at the other two women. "Um, excuse me, I'll be...right back, I suppose." She looked back at the two women as Sherlock quickly ushered her out of the room, and then the two of them were gone.
Mary and Anthea were silent for a moment, then they looked at each other in shock.
"What exactly was that?" Anthea asked, beginning to crack a smile.
"I can't quite believe it, but I think...that Sherlock just stole our guest!" Mary covered her mouth as she tried to stifle a laugh.
"That's absolutely beautiful!" Molly gasped as she peered into the lens of the microscope. "What is it?"
"That is the wing of one of my honey bees. I found a dead one and have been examining bits of it all morning. I couldn't believe my luck when I saw that you happened to be here for tea!" he said happily as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Oh?" she smiled. "But you haven't told me what you need me for yet, Mr. Holmes."
"You haven't guessed yet?" he said with a gleam in his eyes. He rushed over to a nearby drawer and produced some paper and a pencil. He smiled at Molly, looking very pleased with himself. "There, you see! I readied supplies for just such an occasion!"
"Ah, I see! You want me to sketch this," she smiled, finally understanding his need for her help.
"Well, you had offered before. I am taking you at your word."
Molly nodded. "Alright. I'll just do a quick sketch. Perhaps I can take it with me and clean it up a bit. I could send it back to you with Dr. Watson, when next I see him."
"Excellent," he grinned.
Molly looked back into the microscope. She straightened up and moved the stack of papers over and took the pencil in hand. She was silent as she alternated between leaning over the microscope, and making quick pencil strokes on the page.
Sherlock stood a few feet away, leaning on the table. His gaze kept getting pulled back in her direction. He watched her, and watched her, and began to feel a sort of admiration which was a rarity for him. She had the focused eyes of a scientist, the clever steady hands of a doctor, and the mind of a student. But it was all wrapped up in the petite body of a young woman. She was unusual, and Sherlock found anything unusual to be intriguing. He felt more than intrigued though.
There was something vaguely uncomfortable about watching her; an unexplainable discomfort. It was the sort of feeling that made him want to gruffly order her to leave, and also beg her to stay, all at the same time. His brow furrowed and his eyes darted back and forth as he lost himself in thought for some time.
"Mr. Holmes?" her small voice cut through his mind, and made him look back at her. "I'm done, if you'd like to have a look." She handed him the paper.
Sherlock was genuinely impressed. It was a rough sketch, yes. But it was beautiful, and he felt like he was looking through the microscope all over again. He shied away from being overly complimentary though.
Sherlock cleared his throat as he handed it back. "Perfectly fine, thank you. You may take your time in getting it back to me."
"Alright," she smiled back. "I should probably get back to Miss Morstan and Mrs. Holmes now."
"Of course, yes. I believe you know the way back upstairs," he gave her a quick smile before turning his attention back to the microscope.
"I do, yes," Molly said softly. She hung back for just a moment, smiling at him, even though he was looking down and unaware. Finally she turned and went to the door. She uttered a gentle "Good day, Mr. Holmes," as she left and closed the door behind her.
Only after she'd left did Sherlock dare to straighten up and look toward the now closed and quite door, and whisper, "Good day, Miss Hooper."
"Dr. Hooper, there's no sense in being a hero. If you need it, do feel free to use it," John urged as began gathering up his things.
The man chuckled, which produced another round of coughing. "You can be honest with me, Dr. Watson. You think I should freely use laudanum because I won't be around for long anyway, isn't that right?"
John sighed. "I think you should use it if needed, because nobody deserves to be so uncomfortable. And I've said before, I'm no expert. You may be kicking me out of your practice soon!" He gave the man a pat on the back.
Just then, Molly came through the door and walked into her father's office. "Oh, good day, Dr. Watson! I'm glad to see you," she smiled.
"You as well, Miss Hooper. Just come back from Seaborne?"
"I have, yes. What a lovely time I had!"
"What is that there?" her father asked, seeing the garment draped over her arm.
"Oh, Miss Morstan was kind enough to lend me one of her gowns for the Hawkins' ball."
"Ah, how very kind indeed," Dr. Hooper said, and also smiled warmly at John. "That settles it, you will certainly have to attend, even if I am under the weather."
"Father, I'd never leave you if you needed any care, dress or no dress, you know that," she said, giving his cheek a pat.
"Well then I shall be determined to need no care whatsoever!" he announced happily.
Just then, Molly turned and a piece of paper fluttered from her pocket.
John bent down and looked at it as he handed it back. "That's a lovely sketch, Miss Hooper. Did you do that?"
"Oh, um, yes," she answered, suddenly looking a little nervous as she glanced at her father. "Mr. Holmes, he needed me to sketch something for him this afternoon. Just a little honey bee's wing that he was examining under the microscope, that's all. I was going to improve on it a bit before giving it back to him." She folded the paper and put it back in her pocket.
"Ah," John answered, taking in the look on her father's face. "Well it's nicely done. I'm sure he was very grateful."
"Thank you, Dr. Watson...Well, good day to you, I should go and hang this up." Molly smiled at both men, and then exited the room.
There was silence for a moment, and then John picked up his satchel and began walking to the door.
"Just a moment, Dr. Watson," Dr. Hooper said, stopping him in his tracks. He went over to his desk and grabbed a piece of his paper, scribbling something on it. He waved it in the air briskly, drying the ink, and picked up an envelope. As he walked over to John, he folded and stuffed the paper into the envelope. "Could you do me a great favor, and deliver this to Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"
John looked at the envelope and took it slowly from the man. "Well, of course, Dr. Hooper. That's no problem at all," he smiled.
"Thank you very much. You've saved me a bit of time in having it sent out."
John smiled again as he put the envelope in his coat pocket. "I shall see that he gets it as soon as I reach Seaborne."
John Watson left the Hooper's home that day with the most burning desire to see what was in that envelope. Somehow, he didn't believe that it had anything to do with business...
Sherlock and John both exited Seaborne the next afternoon.
"So, Dr. Hooper asked you to tea? That's all he said?" John asked as Sherlock approached the horse that had been made ready and waiting for him in front of the house.
"Yes, that's all. Probably about business," Sherlock answered, with little concern.
"Mm, of course," John nodded, looking at the horse instead of his friend, for fear of giving away his suspicions.
"I shouldn't be long. Will you be here when I return?"
"Not likely. I am out today myself. Must see patients, and I'm sure I'm likely to be much longer than planned. Oh, just a minute," he said stopping Sherlock from getting on the horse. "Is, uh, is Miss Morstan alright? She wasn't at dinner last night. I didn't see her at the breakfast table either."
Sherlock shrugged. "I believe she told my mother that she was feeling unwell and wanted to stay in her room last night. She must have been unwell still this morning."
"I see," John said glumly. "It's just that I, I had told her I'd speak to her last night, and she'd seemed agreeable...Well, no matter." John put on a smile.
Sherlock laughed lightly as he mounted the horse. "Don't you see? Look at all the trouble I save myself! I never have such worries!" he said proudly. At his bidding, the horse began to walk and Sherlock waved to John over his shoulder as he rode away.
"Do not speak so soon, Holmes," John said to himself as he waved back. "Do not speak so soon."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes," the Hooper's housekeeper smiled to him as she came into the sitting room with the tea and some biscuits. "Dr. Hooper will be right in."
"Thank you," Sherlock nodded as he helped himself to a biscuit.
Not long after Mrs. Hart had left the room, Dr. Hooper did come in. "Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes. I apologize for my delay," he said with a tight smile at the dark haired man sitting on his small couch.
"Not a problem."
Dr. Hooper took a seat and Sherlock frowned slightly as he observed the man, because he seemed to be fidgeting more than normal. He looked a bit like Molly when Sherlock had seen her acting nervously. He knew enough to conclude that something was bothering him.
"Thank you for accepting my invitation. I must confess that I sent you that note with very little forethought involved. It was done in the heat of the moment, and I worried afterward that I might regret my actions. But, you see, the state of my health has made me rather acutely aware of how fast time passes away from us. And it motivates me to act quickly." Dr. Hooper paused and looked pointedly at Sherlock. "I am not long for this world, Mr. Holmes."
Sherlock looked back at him evenly, and replied, "I know."
Dr. Hooper let out a short laugh. "I appreciate that about you, Mr. Holmes. You are not one to sugar coat anything. Another man may spend time arguing with me, and telling me to keep my chin up, and surely I'll be better in no time."
"I've never seen the point in such a thing. Yet another waste of the time that you so aptly said, 'passes away from us,'" Sherlock said honestly as he clasped his hands together atop his lap.
"Yes," Dr. Hooper nodded. "That is why I hope you will appreciate the fact that I myself am about to speak to you especially frankly."
Sherlock tilted his head, regarding the man with slight confusion now. He said nothing, and waited for Dr. Hooper to continue.
"I regret that you have placed me in a rather awkward position, Mr. Holmes. I am, at present, in your debt. You and your friend Dr. Watson have done me a great service, and have taken a weight off my shoulders which could not have been lifted in any other way I think. And for many men, that alone would compel them to stay silent... but I cannot. I am a doctor and a business man, it is true. But I am a father before all else, and there is nothing I love or care for more than my daughter. That is why I have asked you here today. And if this conversation damages our business relationship, then so be it."
Sherlock frowned. "You asked me to tea because of...Miss Hooper?" he asked slowly.
Dr. Hooper coughed briefly into his handkerchief, took a deep breath, then continued. "That love for my daughter, Mr. Holmes, compels me to ask you a question that will no doubt be uncomfortable for us both...What are your feelings and intention toward my daughter?"
Sherlock's eyebrows rose quickly, and he swallowed hard. Had he really just heard those words leave this man's lips? The whole situation felt a bit surreal, and he was left wondering how he'd failed to see it coming.
"Mr. Holmes?" Dr. Hooper prompted.
Sherlock cleared his throat and finally opened his mouth to answer. "Dr. Hooper, I...I believe you are perhaps mistaken in what you seem to be thinking. Miss Hooper- your daughter- is merely a friend of mine."
Dr. Hooper nodded. "As a matter of fact, that is what I thought. That is what I'd been told by her. But thank you for confirming it."
Sherlock's expression relaxed a bit. He thought smugly that he'd been right, despite what John had said. Molly Hooper indeed wasn't foolish enough to assume he was about to propose simply because of a bit of intelligent conversation and a dance. But then his thoughts were interrupted by Dr. Hooper again.
"Do you think though, that makes your behavior acceptable?"
Sherlock looked taken aback again. This was certainly a new experience. Never before had he been subjected to a conversation such as this.
"I...I have done nothing indecent, if that is what you are suggesting, sir." Sherlock's tone turned just a touch harder.
"I am suggesting no such thing, Mr. Holmes. But nothing indecent need be done, to ruin the good chances for my daughter's future. Surely you cannot be ignorant to that reality," he said seriously. "And surely you can appreciate the fact that even if you have no wish to marry her, perhaps another man will. I can only hope that her good name is enough to earn her the admiration of the right sort of man."
Sherlock couldn't help a small sigh of frustration. He resented the obligation of marriage, and not just for himself. Molly Hooper had more to offer than her ability to share a bed and produce children. He thought that this man was different, that he saw his daughter differently than most, but it seemed he was wrong.
"And that is your heartfelt concern for your daughter?" he asked in a slightly challenging tone. "You want her to marry? How predictable."
Dr. Hooper's eyes flashed in disgust as Sherlock's underlying insult. "You think I simply want my daughter to marry well, and that is my concern? Mr. Holmes, allow me to speak even more plainly. My hope is that my daughter will simply be able to live after I am gone. My hope is that she will not have everything taken from her, including me. You do not understand everything that is at stake." He had to pause and draw breath as he was becoming winded.
As Dr. Hooper tried to catch his breath, Sherlock finally made the mental calculations. He froze with lips parted as it all began to make sense.
"You are destitute," Sherlock blurted out at the same moment the thought formed in his own mind. Dr. Hooper's eyes snap to him. "In fact, you are in terrible debt. So much so, that you can be sure your home and property will be seized at the time of your death. Miss Hooper will quite literally have...nothing."
Dr. Hooper looked back at him sadly as he listened to the words that cut him to the heart. It had been bad enough when these things were kept locked up in his heart, but to hear them spoken aloud, made them so painfully real. He let out a ragged breath before speaking again.
"When my wife died twenty one years ago, just after giving birth to Molly, I almost died as well. I was a successful doctor in London at the time, and that's where my whole life was. But suddenly, I didn't want to be there anymore. I wanted to get as far away from the city as I could. And at the same time, I had this tiny little person who was dependent on me and me alone. Most expected me to marry again as quickly as possible, purely to secure another mother figure for Molly. But the love for my late wife ran far too deep, and I could not even think of doing such a thing. It made sense to me, to instead make a quieter life for us in the country. I had the name and reputation to recommend me to the wealthy country families. That's where I wanted Molly and I to be. And I did it...but at great cost. I used everything I had to secure land and a home for us here. From then on I have tried to be conservative. I've kept only a small staff, and we live simply. But it was never quite enough. I have acquired much debt over the years, particularly the past five years."
"There are no male relatives then?" Sherlock asked, seeing where this was going.
Dr. Hooper shook his head. "There were some years that I believed things could work. I believed that if I were to die, which I didn't realize was so soon a guarantee, Molly would get everything. She could be master of her own future. So in answer to your accusation of my trivial concern, you are very much mistaken. If I could live to be an old man, or if I'd amassed no debt, I would have let my Molly continue here forever if she wished. If this is the life she loves, I'd never have pushed her out of it! But life does not always go the way we want, Mr. Holmes, and now I sometimes regret that I allowed Molly to become the woman she is," he said sadly.
Dr. Hooper went on. "Even when she was small, she loved science and medicine. I tried halfheartedly to discourage the interest. But the truth is that I absolutely loved how much happiness those things brought her! I couldn't bear to steer her away from it. And so I took her under my wing, in a way that most fathers surely wouldn't. She has always had me, and she has had this profession that I chose. But now, she will have all of that taken from her, and I have only myself to blame. If I'd been truly selfless, I'd have brought her up the way a lady should be. Or I'd have remarried and made sure there was a woman to properly bring her up. Perhaps she would be married by now if I had. I now fear that day will never come for her, at least not while I'm still alive."
Sherlock looked on somberly as he listened, and he added, "And if she doesn't..."
"She will lose everything," Dr. Hooper finished for him. "I have nothing to give her, nothing to leave her. She will soon be homeless, and destitute. Molly will be forced to find some sort of employment. She will likely need to seek out some sort of work as a governess. More often than not, a girl in such circumstances will end up very far from her home. Perhaps in Ireland, or something," Dr. Hooper sighed, and looked at Sherlock as he spoke those words.
That was when Dr. Hooper saw something that made him mentally pause. At the mention of Molly's most likely fate, he saw an actual physical reaction in the man sitting across from him. Sherlock drew a breath, his lips parted, and he flinched slightly. It looked as if someone had come along and stabbed him in his side, but he was doing his level best to hide it. Dr. Hooper decided to continue talking, because he wasn't quite sure what to say about what he observed.
"I hope you can see things from my position now, Mr. Holmes. I have my daughter's best interest at heart, and I just want her to be happy and well cared for. I can't let anything jeopardize that. I hate to leave her as it is, but if I am forced to leave her, not knowing what her fate will be, it will be all the more painful. When I think of her being shipped off somewhere, forced to work, barely surviving, I just-"
"It won't happen."
Dr. Hooper stopped talking and looked at Sherlock who had rapidly spoken those three words. "Forgive me, Mr. Holmes, but even if her reputation is left intact, her future cannot be guaranteed," he replied, wondering why Sherlock had picked this moment to start sugar coating things.
"Yes it can, and it will be," Sherlock said simply. He looked like he didn't know quite what to do with his expression and had looked away for a second, but then he met Dr. Hooper's eyes again and spoke firmly. "I will guarantee it."
Dr. Hooper frowned at him for a moment in confusion, and Sherlock took the opportunity to continue speaking.
"I will pay your debtors, and ensure that Miss Hooper never loses her home or land. That will eliminate the concern of marrying her off before your death. I will also ensure that she has a modest dowry; not small enough to give away any financial problems, but not large enough to attract the attention of money hungry suitors."
Dr. Hooper finally opened his mouth and spoke a little indignantly. "Mr. Holmes, this is not a game. I asked you here to discuss your behavior toward my daughter, and you are offering to use money to solve the problem. I will not allow you to use money as a means for you to treat Molly however you wish."
"You misunderstand me, Dr. Hooper. I am not offering to do this for my own benefit. I am simply offering you what I can, to help with your problem. My conduct toward your daughter will most likely never be entirely proper. I say that because my conduct is not entirely proper toward anybody! I am, and probably always will be, an unusual sort of man." He paused to purse his lips in a slightly humorous apologetic face. "But even if I never spoke to your daughter again, and she never had the chance of her name being marred by my careless behavior, that still would not guarantee her a secure future. You just admitted this yourself. If I do what I am suggesting though, her chances would be vastly improved!"
The poor man stared back at Sherlock in shock and awe, and could barely think, let alone formulate words.
"I- I cannot begin to respond, Mr. Holmes. I cannot even think what to say," he said while shaking his head slowly, still looking blown away.
"You needn't say anything except that you'll give me the list of your debtors, and give me permission to do what I have requested," Sherlock replied calmly.
Dr. Hooper straightened up and cleared his throat. "I cannot take this, I will not allow you to do such a thing, it is too much!"
"Oh, for God's sake," Sherlock groaned, sounding more like his typical unfeeling self. "This is hardly about you or your pride! This is about your daughter! Just accept and let's be done with it."
Dr. Hooper took a moment, chewing it over in his mind. And in the end, it wasn't the amount of money, or the likely success of the arrangement, that convinced him to accept. It was the glimpse of insight into the man himself who was making the offer, and the clue as to why he would suggest such a thing. If he had any inkling that this man was acting with some sort of ill intent, he would have refused. But on the contrary, Dr. Hooper believed that Sherlock Holmes' offer had come from surprisingly pure motives, and possibly even some very well hidden emotions...
He stood from his seat and Sherlock followed along, standing to face him.
"Alright...I accept." Dr. Hooper held out his hand and Sherlock shook it firmly with a half-smile. "This is the second time you've come to my aid, Mr. Holmes, and I'm beginning to feel badly about my intent to chastise you earlier!" he laughed.
Sherlock shrugged. "Happens all the time, and I usually deserve it too. No matter, I'll recover more quickly than you'd like to think." He grinned at the doctor who had to laugh in response.
"I have one more question," Sherlock added, looking at Dr. Hooper suspiciously. "Does Miss Hooper know of these troubles?"
The man let out a heavy breath. "Not to this extent. She knows we have very little, but that is all. I have not wanted to worry her with some of the things I detailed to you today. I hoped to save her some of the anguish, should I happen to find a way out of my debt in time."
"And today you have been given a way out. The question is though, is this way out, something that you will share with her?"
Dr. Hooper looked at Sherlock with a discerning gaze, and it didn't take him long to decide on his answer. "Actually, Mr. Holmes, I will delegate that decision making to you. This was your gift to give, and therefore, it will be your secret to keep...or not, according to your will. I trust that you will do what's best for everyone."
Sherlock detected a strange gleam in the man's eyes, but he simply nodded in answer and said, "If that is what you prefer...I will keep the information to myself then, until such a time comes when I feel it must be revealed."
Sherlock left the Hooper's home that day with a list of names that he would be contacting very soon, in order to repay the doctor's debts. He tucked the paper carefully inside his waistcoat pocket and mounted his horse. As he rode along through the countryside, he couldn't help but wonder how he got himself into this. Never in a million years would he have thought this is how his summer was to go! He also realized that, even though it was a mere drop in the bucket, he would have to gain access to a bit more of the family's finances than he typically had. And that made him wonder aloud...
"How in God's name am I going to explain this to Mycroft?"
Oh, Sherlock, little bit of sentiment showing itself right there! So, how'd you guys like that? Anybody see that coming? And who thought he was about to tell Dr. Hooper that he'd marry Molly? Ah, but no! I didn't really want to go that route. I don't think Sherlock would jump into that at this point. I've still got lots more work to do with him! :) Special thanks to Pillowslave, my bff and consulting writer extraordinaire, who helped me work out the way things would play out between Sherlock and Dr. Hooper. You're brilliant, my friend! :D
Just a note on the whole, Mary lending Molly her dress thing. I had originally wanted to write that scene where the three ladies were picking dresses for Molly, and maybe Molly was trying them on too. For one thing, this chapter became a monster anyway, and would have been ridiculously long had I added that in. And the other thing is that I honestly haven't decided what this dress will look like yet. I still need to work that out. Especially because I want Molly to look reeeally good at this next ball! Muahahaha! So I have to think hard about that. And in case any of you readers out there already have fabulous visions for this gown and what would look perfect on her, feel free to PM me or message me on Tumblr. I'm happy to have inspiration! See you next time, and thanks again for the support! ;)