A/N: I've had a nasty thought, I have actually come up with an alternative ending but I don't know whether to post them both. Also which do I post first; the nice ending or the nastier ending? Decision Decisions.

Enjoy this heinously long chapter!

Miss Hooper was sat atop the roan, Matilda with a beaming smile on her face. Edmund Phillips had seen her natural grace on a horse, whether it was sitting pillion or astride like a man.

In fact she had sat like a man at first, making both Lydia and Polly giggle at the scandal. She had soothed Matilda with a soft brush through her mane and then swung her leg over the saddle and the horse had barely side stepped. Jonathon, Edmund's son, had written it off to Matilda being old and used to various people but his father knew the first time he'd tried to saddle that horse up she had been somewhat skittish and had taken a fair amount of coaxing. But the old horse master had kept tight lipped while John had lifted Lydia into the saddle. Polly had a tight hold of the horse's reigns whilst Molly was content sat atop her own horse and surveying the world from horseback.

Her posture changed almost immediately; she stopped hiding, she sat erect upon the old roan, her head held high, yet when Phillips let her walk, unaided, to the paddock, she moved with the horse. Either she was a born natural or she had been tutored. If Sherlock had witnessed the change in Miss Hooper's demeanour his brain would've worried over the information, slotting it into various situations but this wasn't Sherlock. It was Phillips and he had been natural with horses since he was a toddler so he put it down to an inherent skill of Miss Hooper's and left it at that.

Molly urged Matilda into a trot as soon as they passed through the gate and ignoring the cries of her friends and the two Grooms. She left novice Lydia behind, snorting as she knew that Lydia was not fond of horses but was terribly fond of Jonathan Phillips and urged her horse into a canter, a loose circle that brought her back to her friends.

"Come on girl. Like always." She whispered and the mare whinnied as though she was enjoying herself as much as Molly. The wind unpinned Molly's hair and she just managed to grab her cap and stuff it into her pocket as Matilda's forelegs brushed through the long grass. Her brown red hair streamed out behind her and her dress fluttered. Molly laughed as Matilda set her steady pace but her brief moment of freedom stopped as she came back to the unimpressed faces of Master Phillips and the others.

She had the decency to look sheepish under the angry Head Groomsman's eyes. But he had a soft spot for the young serving girl and after a few harsh words felt his ire fading.

"What if Master Holmes had been here?!" He scolded.

"What indeed." A rich baritone voice interrupted the riding party and all of them scurried to bow to Master Holmes sitting on his bay gelding, Isaac.

"Sir…" Phillips sputtered.

"Apologies Master Holmes, it is my fault and my fault alone." Molly dismounted and stood before her Master, eyes downcast. She didn't want to get her friend's into trouble.

"Nonsense. It is your day off for all of you, feel free to spend it how you like." Sherlock raised an eyebrow and Molly dared to look up. There was a smile in his eyes, she'd seen it before when one of his experiments worked successfully.

"Thank you Sir." Miss Hooper quickly pulled herself back into the saddle and Sherlock watched, his eyes narrowed. Both Phillips and Sherlock saw the easiness Molly had around horses and both thought it over.

"Anyway Miss Hooper, I had come to take up my mother's advice of offering tutelage but it seems Phillips has it covered." He said, feeling awkward all of a sudden, he was superfluous here.

"Not at all Sir, if you don't mind me saying I'll be teaching Lydia and Polly here, Miss Hooper is without a tutor and I'm sure there's no-one better than you." Phillips smiled and Sherlock eyes narrowed again, this had his mother written all over it.

"If you do not mind me interrupting?" Sherlock asked politely and Phillips nodded. "Very well it seems Miss Hooper is already a fairly accomplished rider, so we will head to the edge of the estate towards the river and leave the paddock to help Miss Markson and Miss Bell gain confidence." Sherlock stated and headed off towards a grove of trees, turning back to look expectantly at Molly who was staring at him.

"You wish for me to follow?" She asked innocently and he nodded, urging his horse into a trot. "See you later." Molly grinned, pushing Matilda forwards.

"You will tell me everything." Polly warned her friend as she rode off, waving in agreement. Sherlock was surprised to see Molly a blur past him as she cantered towards the trees. He wasn't having any of that and sped up, chasing Molly as she edged the copse of trees and Matilda whinnied again. She slowed down as they reached a stream and Sherlock did too, the horses slipping into a comfortable trot together and then a walk as their riders laughed.

"You can ride very well Miss Hooper." Sherlock noted, there was curiosity written all over his face.

"I told you Master Holmes, I used to ride as a child on the farm." She looked down, hiding the blush that came from the exhilarating ride.

"You cannot canter on a farm horse Miss Hooper."

"You can, Matilda is a farm horse." She argued, patting the roan's neck who tossed her head as though she was part of the discussion.

"Matilda is not a farm horse, she may be now but she is not bred like a farm horse. She is too lean and her shoulders are not broad enough." Sherlock commented drily, watching Molly who examined Matilda with interest.

"You can tell all that?" She smiled and realised both Matilda and Sherlock's mount had stopped and were grazing next to the river.

"Yes." He said simply and dismounted, he turned to help Molly down and found her already on ground level smoothing her black uniform. "I can also tell you're incredibly good at riding but you were tutored, you're not necessarily a natural." Sherlock watched and led Isaac to the stream.

"You can?" She was suddenly smiling, as though it was all a game but Sherlock saw a trace of panic in her eyes.

"Is this funny to you Miss Hooper?" Sherlock asked somewhat stiffly.

"No but this is." She had stripped off her boots and stockings and paddled her feet in the cold water. She cupped some of the stream, uncaring that the hem of her dress was soaked and threw it in the direction of a startled Sherlock. He spluttered as the water dripped down his face and there was a moment when the atmosphere between them was tense until he launched a handful of water at Molly.

"How dare you Molly?" He growled and the water fight ensued. They splashed one another, Molly took full advantage of the time it took Sherlock to take off his own shoes, and covered him in a deluge of water but he took revenge was his larger hands pushed walls of water towards her.

"No Sherlock!" She squealed as he cupped a handful of water and poured it over her head.

They were soaked by the time Sherlock had locked his arms around her waist and was clinging to her as she squealed. He turned her in her arms in an almost innocent movement when the pair of them stopped and realised the compromising position they were in. But neither of them moved, if anything Sherlock's arms tightened around her waist and Molly's arms slipped around his neck. Their faces neared one another, eyes wide open when Matilda suddenly reared and whinnied loudly. The noise made them jump but the sight before them made them jump even further. Four men were closing in on them, two on each of the banks of the stream. Masks in place, pistols drawn at the pair Sherlock glared at each of the four, assessing weaknesses while his arms tightened around Molly.

"Nobody move." The gruff voice made Molly freeze in his arms and she turned away from the speaker.

"What do you want?" Sherlock's voice was firm while Molly buried her face in Sherlock's wet lapel.

"We want the girl." The man holstered his gun whilst Sherlock refused to let her go. "Don't be an idiot boy. Give us the girl and we'll let you live." The man growled and all three were distracted as Sherlock backed up along the river bed and nobody noticed the horses.

"GIVE US THE GIRL!" The man shouted and fired his gun once into the air, unaware that the horses were behind him. Matilda reared out of fright at the noise as did Sherlock's mount and by a stroke of luck they clipped two of the men round the head. Sherlock, his arm still tight around Molly dove for one of the fallen guns and turned to face their attackers. Molly scrambled up the bank and grabbed all of the shoes they had left on the bank. Soothing a frightened Matilda she stuffed the shoes into the saddlebag and grabbed at Sherlock's horse who tried to rear again.

"Isaac no." Molly hissed and tugged on his reigns, her hand running over his neck she held onto him and managed to swing herself into the saddle before calling desperately to Sherlock. The gun was aimed at one of the men and Molly took a chance. She knew the men wanted her for one reason and she couldn't let Sherlock discover why they wanted her.

Dropping Isaac's reigns she urged Matilda forward, the roan jumped the stream and charged towards the men, when one took aim at the horse, Molly pushed her onwards and the two men scattered.

"Sherlock let's go!" Molly shouted as the man scrambled for their weapons. Barefoot Sherlock pulled himself into a skitterish Isaac's saddle and the pair galloped off at full speed as gunshots echoed behind them. Not one word was said between the pair of them until they had jumped the paddock fence, not stopping to undo it, and came to a clattering halt at the edge of the stable courtyard.

"Mother!" Sherlock bellowed from the yard and there was a flurry as servants and grooms rushed around. "Lydia find my mother. Now." He ordered as he helped a shaky Molly off of her horse.

"What happened?" Both Polly and Phillips were there, grooms grabbed at the horses as Sherlock held the serving girl in his arms.

"We were attacked, by the stream." Sherlock said shortly and as the horses were led away he turned to Jonathan. "They're going to be frightened, so you need to be careful. There were gunshots and you know Isaac isn't a hunting horse for a reason." The groom's son nodded and followed the two horses back to their stables as Violet burst from the door, Lydia hid in the doorway.

"Sherlock what happened?" She asked worriedly, barely even feeling smug at the way Sherlock was holding Molly.

"Four masked men attacked us out by the stream." Sherlock muttered. "We need to get dry inside." He said pointedly at the crowd of servants that had formed around them.

"We need our shoes. They're in Isaac's saddlebag." Molly said suddenly and felt everyone stare at her feet.

"You rode barefoot?" Phillips interrupted and the pair nodded. "We'll bring the shoes in for you. Go in and get dry." He nodded and disappeared into the line of stables. Violet led them inside, followed by Lydia and Polly while the rest of the staff went about their business in a rather subdued way, wondering who had attacked the Master of the house and whether they would attempt here next.

Molly had been pulled into Lady Holmes' study, her wet clothes tugged off of her while Polly nipped upstairs to get her spare uniform, Lydia leaving with the damp clothes to be dried by the hearth in the kitchen. She was dressed once again, without a hat, which she realised was in her other dress pocket and Lady Holmes had knocked as Polly was tying the last fastening on the dress. Molly curtseyed as Polly did but Polly left when Sherlock came in. His hair was stilly damp, curls unruly and the two stood with one another in front of Violet's searching eye. It landed on Molly first but gestured for them both to sit.

"What happened Miss Hooper?" If Sherlock was surprised his mother had aimed her questions at Molly he didn't show it, he just watched as Molly explained, without so much of a stammer. She explained that Sherlock had been giving her riding lessons but she stuttered slightly on the water fight and turned to stare at Sherlock.

"We had a water fight Mother. In the stream." Sherlock explained quietly and at any other time Violet would have been delighted at the news. All she could think at the moment was she needed Benedict.

"Sherlock can you wait outside a moment I need a word with Miss Hooper." She read the confusion in her son's eyes but her own stare promised answers so he left without a word, just a gentle squeeze on Molly's shoulder which was not missed by Violet.

With Sherlock safely outside of hearing range Violet took Molly's hand.

"Molly are you okay?" She murmured and saw the terror in the girl's eyes but she nodded and swallowed.

"One of the voices I recognised. I…I don't know how I know it but I do know his voice."

"Do you think they wanted to kill you?"

"Without a doubt, they wanted the Hooper line ended." Molly looked at the older woman in front of her, a woman who had a spirit akin to her mother's, it made tears form in Molly's eyes. "They wanted the secret dead Lady Holmes."

"My name is Violet right now." She whispered and Molly nodded, biting her lip to stop the sobs. She was taken back to the night when she heard her Mother's screams as she hid in the secret passage behind her bookcase. But right now was not the time for memories. The older woman pulled the young girl into a hug, wrapping her into her arms, a feeling Molly had missed desperately. The smell of Lily of the Valley made her sob and Violet rocked the girl in her arms. Never having a daughter it was slightly alien to Violet as well but it felt the most natural feeling in the world as she let Molly cry, tear staining her dress.

"I'm sorry Violet." Molly hiccupped and pulled a hanky from her pocket and wiped her tears.

"Nonsense, you have a reason to cry Molly, you have known so much heartache for someone so young." Violet stroked a curl of hair away and Molly nodded before pulling herself together. "I am going to call Sherlock in now. He will have a lot of questions for me but I am going to send you to bed. I will not divulge your secrets Molly, but I need to be able to tell Sherlock that you need protecting. Is that okay?" She murmured and the serving girl agreed, standing again as Violet went to fetch Sherlock.

"Molly, are you okay?" Sherlock swept into the room, having already seen the dampness of his mother's bodice and then the red rimmed eyes of Molly.

"I'm okay Sherlock." Her voice was thick with tears and he looked searchingly at her.

"Miss Hooper is going to have an early supper and bed now and we need to talk Sherlock." His mother's quiet voice was authoritative from the doorway.

"Yes Molly you should sleep." He was still worried, Violet could hear it in his voice but Miss Hooper scuttled out of the doorway and down to the kitchens.

"Sherlock please sit." Violet sat herself in her armchair as an anxious Sherlock folded himself into the opposite one.

"Mother…"

"Sherlock. Your brother was right in some sense that Molly has a secret. It is nothing like Mycroft believed it was but she does have a past that both your father and I wish to conceal. Now until your father arrives home I do not want you questioning anyone about Molly." Her words were quick and Sherlock was silenced. "I need you to protect her. If today is what I believe it really is then she needs your protection Sherlock. Subtly though. Do not lock her in your study as a form of keeping her safe. Just be that presence that she can rely on."

"I can do that." Sherlock said after a heartbeat of silence.

"Good. Now look after her for me." She whispered, standing and kissing her son on his damp curly hair. "Oh, next time there's a water fight. Take spare clothes Sherlock." She grinned and disappeared out of the doorway.