The Masquerade
December 31, 1888
Jolly Watson could not contain his giddiness; he was finally going to have the chance to see his cousin along with Holmes and his brother Mycroft. He knew that Claire had been secretly looking forward to the ball ever since she had opened the invitation. Ever since that fall day, he had seen less and less of his cousin since his practice was keeping him away from the mysterious affairs at Baker Street.
The good doctor remembered on his few visits with Holmes that the detective was annoyed at the fact that one day Claire was unable to come to work because she had a sprained ankle. Mary Watson watched her husband bustle about their comfortable room in a hotel near the estate, smoothing his coattails and readjusting his red and gold mask. So as any good wife would do, she tried to calm him down.
"Please stop overreacting, John, it's only seven o'clock and you told everyone to meet here at half past the hour."
The doctor nodded as he looked outside at the whistling wind and chilly air.
Claire Watson was very excited as well, she smoothed down the light lavender and black gown made of silk and lace that she had acquired for this occasion. For once her wispy hair was behaving itself to be made into a large bun with a few curls tumbling down. Her dark blue eyes sparkled as she put on her violet and gold mask, looking one last time at her reflection before moving to the hallway where she was to meet her escort, Mycroft.
"Damn it all, Sherlock! I can't see in this thing!" miffed Mycroft as he struggled to see out of his very dapper gold and scarlet mask.
Holmes sighed, "That's because you have it upside down, brother mine," he said glumly, readjusting his brother's mask.
The detective did not want to go in the least but Miss Watson had practically dragged him into going.
The detective brushed some dust off his perfect suit and put on his own mask which consisted of gold framing and a music score hand painted onto it. He shook his head at his brother before departing to the Watsons room to converse with Watson. The doctor was only too happy to see his dear friend.
"Holmes, old man, so good to see you so soon, please sit down," he said eagerly, trying to keep down his excitement.
Holmes gave Watson a very put-off glance as he poured his first drink of the evening.
"Why are we waiting in your room, Watson? It seems to me that we'd get a better view if we went downstairs to wait for the oddest couple in London," he said with a slight smirk.
The doctor gave a sarcastic laugh at his friend's joke, "I suppose we could go down to the lobby and wait, but once we do you'll probably complain of the wait and march back up the stairs."
This made his wife Mary giggle in her cat mask as she took her husband's arm and the pair descended the stairway. As the three sat, Holmes caught sight of Claire's old friend Roger, who to his surprise was accompanying a young lady who looked a little like him in appearance. The young man spotted them and bowed before addressing the young lady next to him.
"Everyone, this is my niece Jane; her mother told me that she needed something to do for the holidays and so here she is."
Jane curtsied gracefully. "This is my first masquerade and I hope everything goes well. I've heard so much about you all from my uncle and his dear friend Claire Watson."
The group made light conversation when Holmes noticed the sound of his brother's voice and Claire's accompanying it.
"Here they come…" he began to say blandly before turning his face to view them coming down the stairs.
Claire looked out over the top of the stairs to see everyone in their party looking up at her and Mycroft, who was trying not turn red from embarrassment.
"Stop fidgeting, Mycroft, you are going to make me fall if you keep stepping on my gown," Claire whispered at him in her school-tutor tone.
Mycroft mumbled an apology before heading down the opposite staircase to wait for her at the bottom. Claire took a deep breath and began to step down the red velvet covered stairs, her gown becoming more visible with every step. Finally she reached the bottom of the stairs to see that Holmes's and the entire party's mouths were hanging open in awe of her apparent beauty.
Roger was the first one to speak. "Claire Watson, I must say you look like royalty in that gown, wouldn't you say so Jane?" he asked his niece.
The young lady nodded before curtsying for Claire. "It's so nice to finally meet you at last, Miss. Watson, Roger has told me everything about you and your friends here," she said, delighted to meet the older woman.
Mycroft was amused to see that his indifferent brother was showing some emotion that had nothing to do with his detective work.
"So nice to see you surprised, Sherlock, let us hope it is not the last time we see you look this way," he said with a light chuckle that made his younger brother give him a frozen glare.
"I am never surprised, brother - I was only taken aback by Miss Watson's choice of wardrobe, nothing else," he said in a bored tone.
Claire rolled her eyes at him, "Well let's be off to the ball before dear Mr. Holmes gets even more wooden," she said, her eyes dancing.
The group nodded, and each escort offered his partner his arm and led them to the carriage provided by the hotel.
Claire took the time to look outside the carriage to see the black night and little stars above. Mycroft was glad that Claire wasn't smothering him with affection; he was too busy trying to figure out why he was feeling so anxious when he talked to her or was even around her. This behavior was unlike any of the other friendships he had with women, but he was smart enough to know what those kinds of feelings meant.
The older man cursed himself silently that he had done what he didn't want to; he had fallen slowly in love with his brother's assistant. And the worse part was that he knew that Claire had an inkling of how he was feeling. The young lady was acknowledging that against her best efforts to stay frigid and cold that she was falling in love with Mycroft Holmes. The odds were somewhat in her favor, with their friendship and her cousin's wish to make her happy; but the biggest obstacle was her employer Holmes. He had resisted the idea of friendship for so long that she was afraid what he would do if he found out their romance.
Everyone else didn't seem as vexed about possible romance and Watson was too excited to notice how nervous Claire and Mycroft seemed. As for Holmes, he noticed that the pair didn't look as promising as in the hotel but his observance skill only thought it was nerves about dancing or something of that sort. He was only looking forward to talking with Sir. Gerald Steward, Miss. Gertrude's father, since the man was known for his stimulating conversations about the arts and criminal minds.
The mansion that the Stewards resided in came into view and made all the women gasp in delight. The place had torches everywhere, showing how large the estate was and how grand it all looked. Footmen directed the flow of masked dancers and showed the carriage towards the east end of the estate. Claire's mind stopped dwelling on her heart's desires as the door opened, and she let Mycroft help her out of the coach. As she encircled her hand around Mycroft's arm she felt a sense of formality as they walked in rhythm to the sounds of the other dancers behind and in front of them.
Holmes hated having to stay with the group but since everyone was so excited there was a huge weight of silence besides the sound of deep breathing or a giggle from Roger's niece. It seemed hours until they were shown into the dance hall where all the guests had gathered and the orchestra was playing a simple jig.
Holmes used the crowd to his advantage and began at once to find his way to Miss Steward's father, who was near the orchestra with everyone else who was hosting the ball. He smelled Claire's perfume before he could introduce himself, and had to hold back a repulsed sneer. Claire curtsied in front of Miss Gardner, well aware that William could not recognize her.
Watson decided to announce the group, "Good evening, I'm Dr. Watson, this is my wife Mary Watson, my cousin Claire Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, his brother Mycroft Holmes, and Mr. Roger Bloom with his niece Jane Potter."
Everyone curtsied and bowed as Watson spoke their names. Holmes noticed that Claire's eyes twinkled in smugness when he saw William bite his lip to stop himself from dropping his jaw.
The young lady dressed in light blue taffeta and lace smiled as she curtsied, "It's such a pleasure to see you all again. I don't know how to thank you for finding my fiancé, Mr. Holmes, but I hope this ball will help some," she said, giving a warm glance to William who returned it.
The detective bowed stiffly, "Thank you, Miss Steward, it was the least I could was to find your fiancé. I am glad both of you are unharmed," he said placidly, at least trying to be polite.
Claire was too busy looking at other dancers and looking anywhere besides into her old lover's eyes. Mr. Gardner's father Basil was not present, giving Claire some ease, glad that he wouldn't bring up her past with his son. Claire was trying to keep calm and collected as the group moved from greeting the hosts towards an empty table.
Once they sat, the Watsons went out to dance as did Roger, who practically sprung at the chance with his niece. Claire was left with only poor Mycroft since Sherlock had disappeared to go talk with Sir Steward about a few interests of his. Mycroft glanced at the lovely young lady seated beside him, he was counting his lucky stars he wasn't stuffing his face to try and get rid of the nerves he was getting. The lively song ended and the Watsons came back red-faced and laughing at the experience of dancing in such a large group.
Claire heard the start of a waltz and her eyes instantly brightened, before she could speak Mycroft was beside her with him arm outreached to hers.
"Shall we dance?" he asked, even more surprised at his courage than before.
Claire nodded as she let her friend lead her to the dance floor. The other waltzing couples prepared themselves as the first chords were struck, and immediately Claire and Mycroft glided across the floor, behaving as one being - each spin was in perfect timing to the beat which made the Watsons gasp in surprise.
Roger smiled broadly, "I take it you've never seen Claire dance. Although she wouldn't like me to tell you this, she is one of the best dancers I know," he said, keeping an eye on his good friend.
The doctor nodded, and remembered how Holmes had mentioned that Claire had called in sick because she had sprained her ankle.
"Tell me, Roger, was it dancing that caused her sprained ankle?" he asked, hoping Holmes was around to tell him he did an admirable job of deduction.
The professional dancer nodded, "It was, but not this dance. It was another one that I learned in my visit to Argentina a few months ago," he said with a secretive look about him.
Watson knew there was more to be found behind his cousin's friend's statement but his mind seemed more captivated at the odd couple of Mycroft and Claire dancing across the floor.