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I offered my arm to Mrs. Hudson, the love of my life as we descended the porch steps from 221B. I was quite sure she and Holmes had this planned the whole time, but I’m afraid both are much too clever for me sometimes to stop their nefarious plans.
I gave my love a forced smile. “Lovely day for a walk,” I said, pretending to be in a good mood.
“You’re not getting off that easy, John, I heard you and Sherlock fighting. I was there!”
“You...”
I stopped. Can’t win this one. But...“It wasn’t a fight. It was a philosophical disagreement.”
“John, you and Sherlock are beginning to sound like an old married couple.”
“What a horrible thought!” I exclaimed.
“And rightly so, as that would be a perfect loss of good men for the eligible females of London. Least in Sherlock’s case.”
I gave her a swift and disapproving glance. She was looking way, thank God. I lost it.
“A first class grumble-fest.”
I muttered beneath my breath. “Damn newspaper!”
“John!”
I glanced her way again. This time she was looking straight into my eyes with those great big, beautiful brown ones that could Teddy Bear clutch at my most tender self, or emote lightning and thunder to cease and desist my staunchest attempts to prove my manhood.
Her brown eyes were stern enough, so she was serious, but not so serious she could hide the smile teasing the corners of her strawberry lips, which I felt at that moment to crush against mine, but being the proper sort I am, held back from doing. I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of our neighbors.
It just wouldn’t be the proper thing to do.
Morality was changing in modern London; but not that much!
Besides, none of the neighbors were out on the street, which made it more likely they were peeping from behind window shades, so as not to get caught watching their fellow citizens on the street.
I hurriedly glanced up.
No open windows.
No open shades.
Well, I could have been right.
London is filled with many late nighters, because of its metropolitan nature, so I shouldn’t be that shocked. Most Londoners worked two, even three jobs to keep their minds busy and their wallets full so they could pay the most common of expenses.
I and Holmes were quite lucky to be the center of constant need, thus improving our financial situation considerably, not to mention my journal articles in the London Times, which brought in a sizable endowment to me.
Still, I felt for my fellow citizens. Even with the help of our Good Queen Mary of Scots, many were starving or near starving.
Holmes and I contributed most of our payments to the local charities, but we were just a few, when they needed the help of so many more. The many, being the Lords and Ladies, who hoarded their money.
Not all, of course. There are always good apples in a barrel of rotten ones. Lord Graystone and Lady Shareen came to mind immediately. They bequeathed thousands of quid on a monthly basis, with many more thousands dispensed quietly through various channels that they drew from their vast resources in Fairie.
The dragons shared their wealth with that man, unlike some humans who do not even share the slightest bit of their wealth with their own children sometimes.
I sighed.
“What is it, John?”
“Such a blasted difficult world.”
She leaned into me as we strolled up Baker Street. The sun was just beginning to geld the rooftops, caressing chimneys and pipes with tender strokes of golden embers that glittered and glowed before they brightened further into full light.
A slight breeze from off the Thames was chasing away the morning swirls of fog that danced about our legs.
“I love it.”
“As do I. I just don’t always like what’s on it.”
She stopped me.
“Mister Grumbly Bear, what’s really bothering you?”
I glanced at her briefly and looked away. “Nothing.”
I felt her right hand clasp my jaw and turn me to face her. “I will not suffer the man I love to lie to me, when he’s so obviously and desperately in need of support!”
“Holmes put you onto me!”
“And well your friend should, or he would be no such thing. Am I not your friend as well?”
I looked her up and down. “I fancy so, but with a bit of extra...uh...”
She put a finger to my lips, though she was smiling now. She let go.
I chuckled.
She took my arm again. “Now. That’s much better. Up. Talk me up now.”
I don’t care how many times you are faced with a dilemma such as I was at that time, but when in battle, you have but three choices; freeze up and be killed, run and possibly be killed, or charge.
At that moment I found a fourth choice. One which had escaped my attention before.
So, I spoke up.
It took the entire walk that morning to unburden myself.
And not once did she remonstrate me or lecture me. In fact the more I spoke, the brighter her eyes and smile became.
Women.
I fear I shall never understand them.
