Prompt from Emma Lynch - Mrs Hudson`s look of disapproval
The Landlady, the Maid and the Errand Boy
"What is it, ma'am?" Wynonna the parlor maid asked. Her employer, Mrs. Hudson, was fairly glaring at the man ascending the steps to the flat of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.
"That man," Mrs. Hudson growled.
"That man?" Wynonna asked in a whisper and glanced up as the gentleman knocked on the flat's door. "A murderer or a tax collector, ma'am?"
"Worse than either, in his way," Mrs. Hudson said.
The door opened and closed. From above they could hear the muffled conversation of the great detective and the gentleman who was calling upon him.
"Who is he, then? A rapist, ma'am?" asked Wynonna with a shudder.
"In a manner of speaking," spat Mrs. Hudson. "That is Mr. James Windibank, Wynonna. Do you know what Mr. Holmes told me he did to his own stepdaughter?"
"No, ma'am." Wynonna's eyes were wide and her interest keen.
"That monster pretended to be another man so that his stepdaughter, his own stepdaughter, mind you, would fall in love with him," Mrs. Hudson said with grave disapproval. "And his wife helped! Poor girl. To have such parents! Something should be done."
"Done, ma'am?" Wynonna looked at her employer and out of reflex, drew back slightly from her disapproving scowl. Fortunately it was directed up at the flat door, else Wynonna might have run from the house and never returned.
"Yes." Mrs. Hudson's eyes narrowed in thought for a long moment and then a sly smile unlike any the maid had seen her display before crept across the landlady's face. "Get Billy. Fetch your floor things, as well."
Wynonna was about to ask why, but Mrs. Hudson turned and went back into her rooms. The sound of water from the tap filling a pan followed almost instantly. The maid frowned, but thought it best to obey her employer.
Some ten minutes or so later Wynonna was on the steps with her bucket and rag when she heard the voices of the men raised in fierce discord.
"The law cannot, as you say, touch you," said Mr. Holmes. Wynonna heard the lock on the door and then it was thrown open. "Yet there never was a man who deserved punishment more. If the young lady has a brother or a friend, he ought to lay a whip across your shoulders. By Jove! It is not part of my duties to my client, but here's a hunting crop handy, and I think I shall just treat myself to..."
The poor maid hardly had time to scramble aside as the gentleman who had so recently climbed the stairs darted from the open door and sprang to the top step. His foot landed squarely on the spot where Wynonna had just been buffing and slipped out from under him. With a cry Mr. James Windibank tumbled and clattered down all seventeen treads, landing upon his back at the very bottom. With difficulty he groped his way to his feet and, recovering some of his energy, dashed for the door. Reaching it he was met by the thick panel as it swung inward. The edge of the door clipped him hard upon the check and brow, sending Mr. Windibank staggering backward to fall in front of Mrs. Hudson's door. He lay there groaning and rubbing his face. From outside Billy entered, peering around the edge of the door curiously, as if wondering what had just occurred.
"Damn you, boy," Mr. Windibank groaned and began to rise.
Just as he was sitting up Mrs. Hudson stepped out from her door with a pan of steaming water in her hands and tripped on Mr. Windibank's leg. The dear old landlady gave a startled cry and let go of her pan in order to catch herself. Unfortunately for the gentleman, the pan of near boiling water fell on him, spilling across his thighs. Mr. Windibank howled in startled agony as it instantly soaked through his trousers to the skin (and other things). Up he sprang and darted for the door, pushing past Billy and out into the street.
"Good afternoon, Wynonna," Mr. Holmes said from his doorway.
"Good afternoon, sir," Wynonna replied, though she had her hand pressed over her mouth to restrain her laughter.
"Mrs. Hudson, are you quite well?" the detective asked mildly.
"Quite well, Mr. Holmes," Laughed the landlady. "Nothing a mop and bucket won't take care of."
"Ah, Billy," Mr. Holmes went on, "you're back. I have an errand I will need you to run for me. Come see me in an hour."
Mr. Holmes closed his door and the landlady, the maid and the errand boy all began laughing.