Okey doke! Here we go with a slightly dramatic chapter. I am in a bit of a rush tonight, so I'll just step on back and present you with this latest update. Lot's of jumping around to different times during the day, so hope that doesn't get confusing at all. All right, hope you enjoy hehehe... ;)
"I can't understand what happened, and he won't tell me much. He's in the worst spirits now!" John said to Mary shaking his head.
"You did see him the other day though, when he got back, did you not? Did he actually see Miss Hooper?"
"He did. I know he did. When I asked, he didn't deny it. And besides, I saw the sketches he held. He told me she had been working on them, so he must have gotten them from her. I wish I knew what really happened though..."
Sherlock marched into Seaborne and John came rushing out of the sitting room when he saw his friend pass by.
"Holmes!"
He turned, looking at John with an already hardened expression. "Yes?"
"You've been out," John said simply, hoping he wouldn't need much prompting.
"Yes," Sherlock answered impatiently. "You know I had been."
"You went to see Miss Hooper then?"
Sherlock opened his mouth, but closed it again quickly and looked as though he wished to hurry off. "Forgive me, Watson, is there some sort of point to this conversation? I had planned to change clothes and check on the bees. Is there something specific you wanted?" he asked, almost angrily.
"Well...not exactly, no. I just hoped to hear how things had gone...with your speaking to Miss Hooper," John asked cautiously.
"There is nothing to discuss on the subject of Miss Hooper," he spat out.
John frowned at him and looked confused. "Holmes, what are you talking about? Something must have-"
"I'll hear no more of it, Watson!" Sherlock said, at a higher volume now, and with his hand raised to halt John's words.
John froze and stared back at Sherlock, who looked a little desperate in his estimation. "Holmes, I-"
"Do you understand?" Sherlock added quickly. "No more...please."
John was silent for a moment as he tried to make sense of this sudden change. "Um...all right, yes, I understand," he finally answered his friend.
Sherlock gave him a nod of acceptance, and just like that, he was gone. He turned and went swiftly up the staircase with Redbeard in tow...
"Do you think that she could have...refused him?" John asked Mary in a hushed voice.
Mary shook her head, but looked troubled. "No, no, I cannot believe she would have. It makes no sense at all. Perhaps he himself decided against marrying?" she offered.
"If you had seen him after the last time we visited her with Dr. Charles, I think you would not believe that to be a possibility. He as much as admitted how he feels about her, and that is no small thing for your cousin, as you well know!"
"Perhaps I'll try to have a word with him," Mary offered.
"I hope you can! He's been expertly avoiding everyone for the past two days."
Their conversation came to a stop at that point because others started filtering into the dining room. Lady Holmes, Mycroft, and Irene came in and took a seat. One of the servants came over and began pouring wine. That was when Mycroft stopped, looked around the table, and voiced a question.
"Where is Anthea? Has anyone seen her?"
Everyone looked at each other, and they all said the same thing. They hadn't seen her since breakfast.
Lady Holmes gestured to the butler by the door. "Could you have one of the lady's maids sent to Anthea's room. Someone needs to fetch her for dinner."
"What about Sherlock?" Mary asked.
"Don't bother with him," Lady Holmes said with a sigh. "He's only going to refuse anyway. That man is even more impossible lately than he usually is. I'm sure he's hiding away in his lab or some such place!"
Everyone sat there sipping their drinks and waiting for Anthea to come downstairs. The server stood patiently with the pot of soup, waiting till he could serve the entire party.
Early that Afternoon
Anthea had spent the remainder of the morning in her room after breakfast. She wasn't in very good spirits. She had hoped Mycroft would come by her room the night before, but he hadn't. He was leaving for London the next day, and with each moment that passed, she was more sure that he would not be speaking up and asking her to come back with him.
There was only one more thing she was considering saying before they parted, but she was very conflicted. On the one hand, this could be her best chance at prying some sort of emotion from him. But on the other hand, she didn't want to have to have to say anything to coax a bit of love out. If there was any chance of feelings inside that husband of hers, she wanted them to come about naturally. She wanted the spark to turn into a flame on it's own, and not because it was being constantly kindled by her.
She decided to feel things out. She'd speak to him one last time, and perhaps if she saw some bit of hope, some sort of light at the end of the tunnel, she would say what weighed on her mind. If not, she would use the opportunity to simply bid him goodbye and perhaps forego the send off the next morning.
Anthea passed a maid on the stairs after she'd left her room. "Excuse me, do you know where Lord Holmes is right now?"
"Yes, Mrs. Holmes. I saw him go into the Library not long ago."
"Thank you, I'll go and find him there." Anthea smiled at the young woman and went her way down the steps.
She took a few deep breaths as she neared the library doorway, trying to get her courage up. But as she got closer, she heard talking and realized that Mycroft was not alone. She stepped closer to the doorway, while staying out of sight, and listened closer. She quickly recognized Irene's voice.
Irene let out a peal of laughter. "Mr. Holmes, you are teasing me now. I think I've hardly got what I want from you yet! We've only barely begun to scratch the surface. You can't possibly think I am so easily satisfied." Her velvety voice echoed slightly in the large library.
Anthea's breathing quickened and she placed a hand over hear heart, trying to still it manually as she continued listening.
"You are the sort of woman who is never completely satisfied, I would imagine." Mycroft said in a hushed voice.
"And your brother was even less accommodating! I'm beginning to think I should have skipped him entirely and gone to you first. Much more productive!" She let out a little chuckle.
Anthea heard her husband sigh. "Honestly, Miss Adler, I cannot think what more I can give you. This matter should be finished. After all, I am leaving tomorrow."
"Ah, you still insist on leaving, do you? Well, as you know, I was to be leaving in the next day or two as well. Perhaps we can make the most of the situation at hand and share a carriage back to London. Why waste the extra space? I should think we could use the time on that long ride to finish what we started here."
Anthea pressed a hand over her mouth, preventing herself from making a sound.
Mycroft paused for a moment before responding. "I will consent to sharing the carriage, provided there be no more talking involved."
"Oh, Mr. Holmes, where's the fun in that?" she purred. "I think you will find that I am not very good at keeping quiet."
Anthea held in the sob that almost came out audibly. She felt as if she was going to be sick. The moment she'd heard those last words of Irene's, she fled from the door way, ran down the hall, and out the front door.
She passed a stable hand as she came to a stop at the bottom of the stone steps in front of the estate. She waved to him as she caught her breath and gripped the railing.
"Please...can you, can you fetch my horse?" she asked in a shaky voice.
"Yes, Mrs. Holmes, right away...are you all right?"
Anthea took a breath and tried to smile. She didn't want any questions. She just had to escape. She had to get away, just for a while, at least to think and clear her head. "I- I'm fine, yes. Please just...please fetch my horse."
The boy looked at her for another moment, then ran off to the stables to do as she said. She leaned her back against the cool stone once he was gone and tasted the salty tears as they fell down her cheeks. She sniffled and tried to wipe her face with her hands even as more tears continued to fall.
"Oh, God help me," she whispered to herself and continued sobbing as she clutched her chest, feeling her heart racing. "Please don't let it be true. What is wrong with me? Why can I not be enough?!"
She tried to calm herself down and wipe her face again. The boy would be back any moment with her horse and she couldn't let him see her like this. She couldn't have him rushing off and telling anyone. She needed time to decide what she should do next.
A few minutes later, he came back with her white mare and Anthea quickly got on the horse with his assistance. She mumbled a "thanks," keeping her face down, and sped off. The boy watched for a moment as she rode away, shrugged, then he went back to his chores.
Ten Minutes Earlier In the Library
"Ah, Mr. Holmes, fancy meeting you here," Irene said happily as she walked in and saw Mycroft reading by the window.
"Just enjoying the solitude," he answered curtly, without looking up at her.
"As it happens, I'm pleased to have met you here." She took a seat in the chair opposite him.
"Are you? Heaven knows why," he said, briefly glancing over at her.
She made a face of mock insult. "I'm surprised, Mr. Holmes! We are friends of sorts, are we not? I should like to think you can trust me."
Mycroft set his book down and frowned, looking her over carefully. "What do you want, Miss Adler?"
"I want the truth, Mr. Holmes. I think it's time somebody dragged it out of you...I want to know if you care at all about your wife."
Mycroft shifted in his seat and stared back at her. It took him a moment to actually open his mouth. "Why do you want to know?"
"She is my friend. Am I not allowed to care for the welfare of my friend? Do you believe me to be that cold? Besides, I won't allow you to evade the question for any reason. So I'll ask you again. Do you care for her?"
"I married her, did I not?" he answered quickly.
"I think I realize that," Irene smirked. "I am more interested in how you feel about her now. Do you enjoy her company?"
"Yes," Mycroft answered slowly, looking as if he was already uncomfortable.
"What about when you are alone together? And when I say alone, I'm being indelicate." Irene smiled again with a gleam in her eye.
Mycroft let out a short laugh. "You cannot honestly be asking me such a question. That is none of your business, or anybody else's for that matter!" he said indignantly.
Irene was unfazed by his tone. "I myself cannot understand why everyone shies away from such a topic. It is the most natural thing in the world! And I am simply trying to get to the root of the problem, Mr. Holmes."
"Problem? What problem?"
"Surely there must be some sort of problem, for you to treat her so coldly. But perhaps I will take a step back from my previous question, since it was a bit much for you to handle." She gave him an exaggerated expression of pity. "Do you find your wife to be beautiful?"
Mycroft considered how to respond. He finally took a deep breath and answered at a lower volume, as if afraid to be heard. "Yes, of course I do. Anthea is an exceptionally beautiful woman. I am with her every day, and I am not a blind man."
A smile spread slowly across Irene's lips as she watched him answer. "Ah, so the truth begins to come out. I hope you do not think your brother is the only person who can read between the lines. I think this is the first time I've seen it in your eyes though...you do love her."
Mycroft cleared his throat and looked away for a second. Irene was sure she saw him turn a little pink and this pleased her even more.
"I think now the question would be, why is it that you are so hesitant to show it?" Irene asked as she leaned on the arm of the chair and perched her chin on her fingers.
Mycroft sighed and got up to stand by the window and face away from her. "I do not believe there is any reason for us to continue this conversation. Haven't you already gotten what you want from me?"
Irene let out a peal of laughter. "Mr. Holmes, you are teasing me now. I think I've hardly got everything I want from you! We've only barely begun to scratch the surface. You can't possibly think I am so easily satisfied." Her velvety voice echoed slightly in the large library.
"You are the sort of woman who is never completely satisfied, I would imagine." Mycroft said in a hushed voice.
"And your brother was even less accommodating! I'm beginning to think I should have skipped him entirely and gone to you first. Much more productive!" She let out a little chuckle.
Mycroft sighed. "Honestly, Miss Adler, I cannot think what more I can give you. This matter should be finished. After all, I am leaving tomorrow."
"Ah, you still insist on leaving, do you? Well, as you know, I was to be leaving in the next day or two as well. Perhaps we can make the most of the situation at hand and share a carriage back to London. Why waste the extra space? I should think we could use the time on that long ride to finish what we started here."
Mycroft paused for a moment before responding. "I will consent to sharing the carriage, provided there be no more talking involved."
"Oh, Mr. Holmes, where's the fun in that?" she purred. "I think you will find that I am not very good at keeping quiet."
"Perhaps you should be, Miss Adler. It is not a desirable quality for a woman to continually inflict her opinion on other people's affairs," he said in a superior tone.
Irene shrugged. "I am not concerned with that. I have plenty of other desirable qualities. I can spare one or two. I am much more interested in saying what needs to be said. And there is much that needs to be said to you. Perhaps some are not brave enough to speak up...but I am."
Irene stood up and smoothed her skirt as she did so. She looked down at Mycroft, not bothering to hide the judgmental look in her eyes.
"I'll leave you on your own now, Mr. Holmes. Though I can't understand why you feel the need to bask in solitude now. It seems to me you have plenty more laid out in your future...that is, if you continue on this path. Good afternoon." Irene raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a smirk before turning and leaving.
Mycroft tried to ignore what she'd said, but he felt an odd discomfort at her words. He wondered if he really had doomed himself to a married life of solitude. He wondered if he even had the ability to change courses at this stage of the game. Was it too late?
Or was he too much of a coward to do anything but walk away?
That Evening
The butler came back into the dining room and everyone at the table turned their attention toward them.
"Forgive me, Lady Holmes, but Mrs. Holmes is not in her bedroom. I had one of her maids go to fetch her, but she was not to be found."
Mycroft's brow furrowed instantly.
"Well, wherever can she be?" Lady Holmes asked with an exasperated tone. "She cannot be far! Just have someone find her, will you."
"Right away." The butler bowed and exited the room quickly.
"We cannot continue waiting all night," Lady Holmes said and looked to her eldest son.
"Yes, of course. We should eat," he answered quickly, but anyone with eyes could tell that he was a bit unsettled.
Just when everyone had finished up the first course and the second was being served, the butler reappeared.
"Forgive me for disturbing again," the butler began, but this time he seemed a bit nervous. "But we seem to be having a bit of trouble locating Mrs. Holmes."
Mycroft stood up from the table in a flash with his eyes wide. "What do you mean? You have looked all over the house? Have you checked the immediate grounds?"
"We have sir. I did not want to alarm you unless we had checked everywhere."
"Well where could she be?" Mary asked, looking a little worried now.
Mycroft felt his pulse speed up and tried not to show the panic that was rising inside of him. He looked back at the butler sternly.
"Go and check the stables now! Find someone and see if my wife's horse is in its stall." Mycroft walked past the table and went to leave the room.
"Where are you going?" John asked.
Mycroft turned back at the doorway. The tone of his answer conveyed his worry more so than the actual words did. "I'm going to get Sherlock."
The rest of the four of them sat or stood around the sitting room fire, waiting for either the butler, or the Holmes men to come tell them something more.
"It's getting awfully dark," Mary said, looking out the window. "I cannot imagine she is still out riding. Why wouldn't she have come back?"
"Perhaps she went to visit someone. The Hawkins perhaps?" John offered.
"She isn't that terribly close to Miss Hawkins I believe," Irene said.
"No, I suppose not," Mary said in a discouraged voice. "But there must be some sort of explanation."
Mycroft walked in, with Sherlock behind him.
"I spend a couple of days in my lab and one of you decides to go missing?" Sherlock quipped.
"This is not a joke, Sherlock," Mycroft hissed. "Figure something out!"
His younger brother rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, brother. I'm sure there is a simple enough answer as to where your wife is. None of you have seen her since this morning then?" he asked the rest of them, and they nodded in the affirmative.
"Right...what about her horse?" Sherlock asked Mycroft.
"Someone is checking now."
Just then they heard the door open and the butler came in with one of the stable boys. He made introductions and prompted the young man to speak.
"Um, Mrs. Holmes came outside early this afternoon, sir. She asked for her horse, and I got it for her. She went riding, but hasn't returned."
"And you didn't think to tell anybody?!" Mycroft immediately barked at the boy.
"Mycroft," Mary cut in quickly and put a hand on her cousin's arm. "How would he have known that she was not meant to return much later? Did she seem herself?" Mary asked the boy.
"She seemed, well," the boy began nervously. "Perhaps a bit upset."
Everyone looked at Mycroft. He frowned back at them.
"For God's sake, I told you I hadn't seen her since breakfast!" he answered defensively. "Isn't it possible that this is not my fault?!"
"Unlikely," Mary said under her breath.
"Somebody must have seen her, that is certain," Sherlock stated confidently. He spoke to the butler. "Get the servants together. I want to speak to the staff...all of them! Somebody must know something. Someone saw her or spoke to her. If she left on horseback this afternoon and was upset, it's unlikely that nobody in this house has a clue as to why...besides the obvious fact that she's married to you, Mycroft."
Sherlock marched out of the sitting room and up the stairs as he heard the butler rushing down the hall to gather the staff together. He didn't want his brother's wife to be in any sort of danger of course, but he was glad for a bit of distraction and activity. He had been running out of experiments to come up with in his lab. And he had already spent much longer than he should have in framing the pictures Molly had drawn, and hanging them carefully on the walls...
Sherlock took a brief look around Anthea's bedroom. Nothing out of the ordinary. No notes left waiting, nothing packed, nothing out of place. Though...
Nothing packed meant she was not planning to return to London with Mycroft. That alone could have been upsetting her. Sherlock could see clearly that Mycroft was not giving her the impression that she was very much wanted back in the city. Could she be trying to send some sort of message of desperation?
Sherlock soon came back downstairs and waited in the large entry way while the servants were gathered. He looked over at Mycroft who was pacing back and forth, near to wearing a hole in the floor. The rest of his family looked genuinely nervous as well. He saw Irene look out the window and then look back at him with a pointedly intense gaze. It was now completely dark outside.
Just as the last couple of servants were filtering in the room, Sherlock took the butler aside and said quietly, "When I finish speaking to some of the staff, assemble the best riders and have them prepare their horses. We will likely be riding out on a search tonight."
"Yes, sir," the butler agreed.
Sherlock turned to the crowd of staff and began speaking quickly. "I need you all to tell me which of you saw my brother's wife, Mrs. Holmes, today."
About a dozen people raised their hands.
"The rest of you can go for now...yes, quickly, go! Thank you!" Sherlock said hurrying them off with a wave of his hand. "Now, who of you saw her this afternoon?"
One maid raised her hand. "I brought her afternoon tea to her room."
"And did she say anything to you or act strangely?"
"She said, thank you, and I left," the maid answered nervously.
"Not helpful. Thank you, you can go."
The maid scurried away, and another raised her hand.
"Yes, you spoke to her?" Sherlock gestured for her to speak.
"I did. I saw her on the stairs early this afternoon. She asked me where Lord Holmes was. I told her that I had seen him go to the library. She thanked me and headed down the stairs and in that direction."
Sherlock turned to his brother. "And were you in the library this afternoon?"
"Yes, I was. She never came to see me though. I was there from about noon till half past one."
"If I may, sir," the maid went on. "I believe it was about one when I had directed her to the library."
"I was there at about that time as well. She never came in as far as I am aware," Irene added.
"You were there?" Sherlock asked, tilting his head with a quizzical look on his face. "In the library with Mycroft? Why is that?"
"We were talking. I was trying to help Anthea, as it happens."
Sherlock paused and the wheels began turning in his head. He didn't like the conclusions he was coming to, but at least it would provide some logical answers.
"And whatever you were talking about...is there any possible chance that it could have been at all misinterpreted by a listener?" Sherlock asked pointedly.
"Oh God," Mycroft uttered before Irene could.
"How dare you?" Lady Holmes suddenly stepped forward, immediately glaring daggers at Irene.
"How dare I?" Irene shot back. "You are content to sit back and blissfully ignore the torment of a cold marriage that your daughter in law is enduring at the hands of your son on a daily basis. At least I was trying to do something to help! I may not be looking for a marriage for myself, but I do happen to believe that those who are locked into such an arrangement should be happy together!"
"You could be the ruination of such happiness! Do you care about that?!" Lady Holmes face was beginning to turn beet red.
"Enough! Both of you!" Mycroft bellowed, stepping between them. "There is absolutely nothing going on between myself and Miss Adler and I will waste not a second more on such a ridiculous topic. What I care about is that my wife is missing! She is out there somewhere in the dark with nothing but her horse! She must be found, and she must be found now!"
Sherlock stepped forward. "I've already had men readied. Some of the staff should be outside preparing their horses."
Just as Sherlock had spoken those words, the same stable boy who had given Anthea her horse came running back in looking rather breathless.
"Sir, Mrs. Holmes' horse has come back!"
"What? Where is she?!" Mycroft asked desperately.
"Mrs. Holmes was not on the mare, sir. The horse came back on her own. She's a bit spooked too," the boy said, catching his breath.
Mary let out a small gasp and closed one hand over her mouth as she grabbed John's hand with her other.
Mycroft turned and looked at Sherlock with horror written on his features. "Sherlock," he said, and nothing else was needed.
Sherlock could see that his brother was pleading with him, by speaking nothing but his name. A gear was shifted in Sherlock's brain, and he was then very much on the case. He silently vowed to himself that he would find his brother's wife tonight. He could not stomach the idea of Mycroft's heart being ripped in two. He could see it beginning to happen when he looked at him. It was easy to recognize...a bit like looking in a mirror.
"Watson, come with me!" Sherlock yelled over his shoulder, still looking at his brother. "We will ride now, and spread the available men in every direction. But first I want to see the horse."
Sherlock and John started for the door and Mycroft followed behind them.
"I'm coming with you," he said firmly, but Sherlock could pick up on the almost imperceptible tremor in his voice.
"No, you're not. Don't argue with me! You'll stay right where you are. First of all, I can see that you are in no state to ride. And second, you need to be here when she returns. You have no idea if Watson and I will be the ones to find her. She could return long before we do, and you should not be gone when she does."
In a rare moment of contact between the two men, Sherlock leaned forward and clapped a hand on Mycroft's shoulder. "She will be found, Mycroft...I swear it."
Mycroft stared back at him and swallowed hard. He nodded, unable to answer verbally. Sherlock turned and left the front door with John in tow.
Mycroft walked forward and leaned his head on the door that had closed after they'd gone. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his pounding heart and aching head. But all he could see was her.
Everything inside of him screamed rebukes for the constant restraint he'd exercised thus far in his marriage. When faced with the possibility of losing all chance to display anything of his true feelings, he hated himself for ever having held back. He hated himself for having planned to walk away the very next day, leaving her behind, feeling so unwanted. Oh, how he wanted her now. She was all he wanted now. He just wanted his wife back. And if she were never to know that...
I'll never forgive myself, he though. If any harm comes to her, I will never forgive myself as long as I live.
Well, if it's even possible, I bet you hate me even more right now than you did after chapter 15. Just so you know, I did originally intend to write this whole Mythea drama fest in one chapter. But clearly I underestimated how long it would all take! And that's why Molly isn't to be found in this one. Rest assured, you will see her next chapter. And of course you will also see the conclusion of all the drama with Anthea and what has happened to her. I know exactly what I'm doing, so hopefully this chapter will come super easily as well.
A special thanks to my bff for, not only reading this over for me, but for having been the one to come up with the BRILLIANT idea of Anthea mishearing Mycroft and Irene. You're the best! Obviously, I can't come up with all this stuff on my own. (You're probably thinking you'd like to read her stuff. Trust me I've begged her to upload stuff lol)
Ok, that's it for real now. Thanks for reading again and I will do my best to get chapter 17 up asap! You guys are fabulous and I'd love to hear your feels on this latest...but preferably without any death threats. :)