A/N: I don't know what the son of a Lord is called, I went with Sir, presuming Mycroft would take the Lord title…. Research complete (thanks Wikipedia) apparently he would hold a courtesy title but would still be Lord. I think. Please correct me if I'm wrong.
I know it's been a while and for that I am sorry, but I was two hours early onto campus so hey! Have a chapter. I think the final chapter.
Unless you guys want one last one of their married life.
Your choice!
"That's it Sherlock I've had enough!" Molly glared at him and stormed out of the library. It was a Ball, the Yuletide Social and the infuriating man refused to get dressed. Stubborn as he was she had one weapon in her arsenal.
His mother.
She traced her way around the new house, one of the Holmes' acquaintances, Lord Whitewood, and managed to end up back in the suite of rooms the Holmes family and guests had been given. The 'and guests' part had been a deliberate sneer of Lady Whitewood on her part - she had disliked Lady Hooper from the off as it seemed her dreams of marrying her daughter the younger Holmes had been dashed, as if Sherlock would ever fall for Janine Whitewood. But Lady Hooper had been received most frostily at the Whitewood Estate.
It came to the time of the ball and Sherlock had still deigned to come, much to Molly's anger and embarrassment. She would be bait to the wolves of the gossip world, the least Sherlock could do was turn up. Even if he left like half hour into the festivities, she could cope with that. But a no show was just humiliating.
His mother came back red in the face and a glint in the eye that told Molly's sinking heart he was being stubborn.
"You will enter with us Molly." Violet tried to pacify the young woman but Molly knew she stood out from the rest of the well bred society ladies. She had spent time as a servant and as far as the other women were concerned she was now beneath them.
She really hated Balls, she really hated Sherlock – at that moment in time Molly couldn't decide which one she hated more.
Entering the ballroom, Molly felt everyone's eyes pinned on her. Her rise from the dead was still new and still interesting so people feasted on her actions with a vengeance. Curtseying to Lord and Lady Holmes, who were casting worried looks at her, Molly held her head high and stepped to the fringes of the groups. Thankfully she was saved by Mrs Mary Watson and fell into easy conversation with the young woman who's cheery personality could draw anyone (even Sherlock) out of a grump. John Watson was a lucky man to be married to her. John joined her after tactfully excusing himself from a pot bellied balding aristocrat who's wife had been flirting with John for too long.
"No Sherlock?" He muttered in an undertone but it was picked up by the sharp ears of passing ladies.
"Oh no. Master Sherlock is not coming?" A malicious voice descended on the trio.
"No he is not." Mary stuck her chin out and her features almost glared at the woman to answer her but Countess Maltravers would never deign to talk to a "commoner" like the daughter of a Captain in the army. She ignored Mary, but could hardly ignore John when he cleared his throat, men were still superior.
"Master Holmes has decided against joining in the festivities tonight." His tone was final, like speaking to a protesting patient – what the good Doctor says, goes.
"Oh." The falsetto voice of the Countess made Molly's skin crawl. She stared straight at Molly while replying to John. "That is a shame, I know some of us are going to miss him, it's almost scandalous him not being here."
Molly held her tongue but stared the woman down until the Countess decided to leave and spread her poison elsewhere. She was not the last. After Mary and John had taken to the dance floor, Molly was left alone and the vultures moved in.
"All alone are we Lady Hooper, tut tut, that's no way for a lady to be. Where is dear Sherlock, I miss him you know."
"Irene Adler." Molly's voice held so much contempt, but she could play the game and disguised it with a smile
"I think you'll find it's Lady Irene Adler." The darker haired woman sneered in derision.
"That's funny Miss Adler, I thought you had all titles and inheritances stripped from you after the scandal with the King of Norway, and the Crown Prince of Bulgaria. You do work fast." Molly smiled, fingers playing with the flute glass she had been handed.
"I think you'll find that's correct, but it was also the Duke or Normandy that got her into the most trouble." A deep baritone voice stopped Irene from opening her mouth once more.
"Sherlock." Molly's smile tripled and Irene scowled like she'd had a lemon in her mouth for too long.
"Molly. I apologise for the delay." He kissed her hand. "Please forgive your foolish fiancé." He ignored the craning necks, and eavesdroppers around them and kissed her cheek before turning back to Miss Adler. "Hello again Miss Adler, if you'll kindly excuse us I have neglected my fiancée for too long tonight." He pulled Molly closer, nodded at a speechless Irene and pulled Molly towards a flushed John and Mary.
"You owe her Sherlock." John reprimanded the taller man who nodded in reply.
"I most certainly do but for now Lady Janine Whitewood is walking this way so Molly behave yourself." Sherlock smiled at her before turning to the newcomer.
The festivities went on in a similar matter, the four sticking close together, occasionally joined by Sherlock's parents with dinner providing a nice break from the harpies before the four disappeared to the library – Molly and Mary feigning illness and the two men being their chivalrous selves guiding them to their suite of rooms.
They reclined in their small parlour room and Sherlock apologised softly to Molly who glared at him but smiled again as he told her all about the book he had been reading.
Sherlock had changed since Molly had slipped her way into his life, he was still arrogant and mean to those around him, he abused John especially for his stupidity but wouldn't trade his best friend for the world. Molly had softened his stone heart, got a few emotions pumping. Sherlock even appreciated Mary's humour and quick intelligence. He looked at the young woman now curled into his side, the voluminous gown she had worn on the floor in a pile while she wrapped herself up in a robe (screw propriety he thought) and Sherlock actually smiled. Molly and Mary never saw it as they kept their eyes shut, revelling in the warmth of the fire as well as the men they were with but John saw. He smirked, Sherlock said nothing but stared him down and when John opened his mouth to ridicule Sherlock raised a finger to his lips as Molly was now softly sleeping next to him. John shook his head, holding back laughter while Sherlock eased the young woman – whom he could still see in her servant pinny as opposed to the ridiculously beautiful dress from tonight – into the crook of his arm, her head lolled against his shoulder, she snuffled and sighed contentedly.
Sherlock knew she was sore still from Moriarty's attack, her ribs ached every so often and the corsets didn't help and so he cradled her body very carefully, as though she was a relic from a far off land. He stared down at his tiny, fierce fiancée and smiled again.
She had made him a little soft in the heart but he found he didn't mind too much.
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P.s all spelling mistakes are my own!