his head; he asked me to follow his instructions to the letter.”
“And what were those instructions?” I whispered.
“To buy the most expensive object here, give it to you, and act as if we were husband and wife.” He smiled and called a clerk over to aid us.
I nearly laughed aloud. “That’s preposterous,” I could not help but smile. “I wonder if Mr. Holmes is watching us from afar, hidden, laughing at us even now.”
“Do you trust him?” Dr. Watson said more seriously.
I nodded, and the dealing commenced. When we had finished, I had an emerald pendant the size of my fist around my neck. As we left the jewelers, I felt like the wealthiest woman in the world. We headed back toward Baker Street at once, when Dr. Watson stiffened up.
He leaned close to my ear. “We’re being followed.”
“Take my hand,” I said suddenly, thinking quickly. He looked at me strangely.
“Take my hand… No one will believe we’re husband and wife if we walk apart after you bought this jewel.”
He did so. At last we arrived at Baker Street, and as soon as we entered the house we broke apart. Mr. Holmes had a sly look on his face.
“What was that about?” I asked, somewhat flustered.
Mr. Holmes put a finger to his lips and pointed to the window. I saw the flourish of a beautiful violet dress just before the street was empty once more.
“I had to prove my theory,” Mr. Holmes replied with a grin.
I sighed, tears nearly coming to my eyes. I took the necklace from my neck and placed it in my master’s hands. “But I have…had a fiancé. I remain true to him; if he had not lied, this would not have happened. If you will excuse me, I would like to rest before I resume my duties for the evening.”
When silence met my request, I curtsied and went out. Once in my room, I let my tears flow freely until I had only enough energy to finish my evening duties and come back again to my quarters. I remember that night as one of the longest and loneliest nights of my life.
The next day, as I was preparing the morning meal, Mr. Holmes came into the kitchen and without further ceremony handed me a small wooden box. When I opened it, I could feel my eyes widen in surprise.
“Where did you find it?” I asked.
“The woman you glimpsed yesterday is the one who is to blame.”
“Thank you,” I said, but with little conviction; I set it on the table, for I could not bear to put it on.
Mr. Holmes looked at me steadily. “There are worse things than rings to be upset about.”
“Oh Mr. Holmes,” I cried, my eyes brimming with tears. “But what is love without trust? Surely you must agree with me on that account.”
“I will grant his deception was unwise,” he said resolutely. “But if I can prove he still loves you, and loves you deeply, will you receive him and be reconciled?”
I nodded and he left. Shortly thereafter, I heard footsteps walking up to the porch, and Rupert stood in the doorway.
It was some moments before either of us moved. Then, all at once, we were embracing and he kissed me. “These days and nights without you have been the loneliest of my life,” he told me. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Unable to speak, I merely nodded, and after he had brushed my cheek affectionately, he took up the ring box and knelt again.
“Will you, Martha Beauregard, be my wife?”
“No deceptions?” I asked, fighting to look stern.
“Never again,” he promised, and I knew it was true.
“Then yes, I will!” I laughed and we kissed until I sensed we were being watched.
I turned to see Mr. Holmes leaning on the doorpost smiling to himself.
“Mr. Holmes,” I asked, hoping to encourage his moment of triumph, “would you care to tell us who caused this rift between us?”
He was happy to oblige. “The chief cause of all this trouble is Irene Adler, a woman of infinite mystery and an impeccable jewel thief when the need to bargain arises. She often works under the guise of others, but in this case she
“And what were those instructions?” I whispered.
“To buy the most expensive object here, give it to you, and act as if we were husband and wife.” He smiled and called a clerk over to aid us.
I nearly laughed aloud. “That’s preposterous,” I could not help but smile. “I wonder if Mr. Holmes is watching us from afar, hidden, laughing at us even now.”
“Do you trust him?” Dr. Watson said more seriously.
I nodded, and the dealing commenced. When we had finished, I had an emerald pendant the size of my fist around my neck. As we left the jewelers, I felt like the wealthiest woman in the world. We headed back toward Baker Street at once, when Dr. Watson stiffened up.
He leaned close to my ear. “We’re being followed.”
“Take my hand,” I said suddenly, thinking quickly. He looked at me strangely.
“Take my hand… No one will believe we’re husband and wife if we walk apart after you bought this jewel.”
He did so. At last we arrived at Baker Street, and as soon as we entered the house we broke apart. Mr. Holmes had a sly look on his face.
“What was that about?” I asked, somewhat flustered.
Mr. Holmes put a finger to his lips and pointed to the window. I saw the flourish of a beautiful violet dress just before the street was empty once more.
“I had to prove my theory,” Mr. Holmes replied with a grin.
I sighed, tears nearly coming to my eyes. I took the necklace from my neck and placed it in my master’s hands. “But I have…had a fiancé. I remain true to him; if he had not lied, this would not have happened. If you will excuse me, I would like to rest before I resume my duties for the evening.”
When silence met my request, I curtsied and went out. Once in my room, I let my tears flow freely until I had only enough energy to finish my evening duties and come back again to my quarters. I remember that night as one of the longest and loneliest nights of my life.
The next day, as I was preparing the morning meal, Mr. Holmes came into the kitchen and without further ceremony handed me a small wooden box. When I opened it, I could feel my eyes widen in surprise.
“Where did you find it?” I asked.
“The woman you glimpsed yesterday is the one who is to blame.”
“Thank you,” I said, but with little conviction; I set it on the table, for I could not bear to put it on.
Mr. Holmes looked at me steadily. “There are worse things than rings to be upset about.”
“Oh Mr. Holmes,” I cried, my eyes brimming with tears. “But what is love without trust? Surely you must agree with me on that account.”
“I will grant his deception was unwise,” he said resolutely. “But if I can prove he still loves you, and loves you deeply, will you receive him and be reconciled?”
I nodded and he left. Shortly thereafter, I heard footsteps walking up to the porch, and Rupert stood in the doorway.
It was some moments before either of us moved. Then, all at once, we were embracing and he kissed me. “These days and nights without you have been the loneliest of my life,” he told me. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Unable to speak, I merely nodded, and after he had brushed my cheek affectionately, he took up the ring box and knelt again.
“Will you, Martha Beauregard, be my wife?”
“No deceptions?” I asked, fighting to look stern.
“Never again,” he promised, and I knew it was true.
“Then yes, I will!” I laughed and we kissed until I sensed we were being watched.
I turned to see Mr. Holmes leaning on the doorpost smiling to himself.
“Mr. Holmes,” I asked, hoping to encourage his moment of triumph, “would you care to tell us who caused this rift between us?”
He was happy to oblige. “The chief cause of all this trouble is Irene Adler, a woman of infinite mystery and an impeccable jewel thief when the need to bargain arises. She often works under the guise of others, but in this case she
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