Night of fate (Eudoria x F!Reader)
a/n: mommy Holmes, let's go!
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"I need to talk to you"
You tensed when the lady of the house entered the kitchen while you were washing the dishes, with that confident and determined air that always aroused respect in you and that satisfied smirk that she reserved for you and that she knew left your cheeks flushed and your legs weak.
Eudoria Holmes was a self-confident woman who knew perfectly well how to play with the cards life had dealt her, always making the best of situations that for other women would be too overwhelming. You had learned it as soon as you started working in her house.
You were just a maid, young and beautiful enough for your hand to be offered in marriage, from a working class family, or at least that's how it was. Your parents had long since crossed the veil of life, and you had no siblings to turn to, no inheritance to claim given your gender. Your only hope of surviving was to accept any marriage proposal you could get, or pray for a miracle so you wouldn't end up on the streets.
The second came first, in the form of the older woman before you, whose manners and outward attitude reflected the same mirages of London society, but whose eyes told a story of rebellion and ideals ahead of the time. She had offered you a job in her home, saying she needed help raising her youngest daughter after her husband died.
You really didn't think much about it before agreeing. The pay was good, the work fair, no rings or ties that felt like chains instead of sincere vows. And your employer was kind and considerate to you...sometimes more than you expected.
Sometimes, you would be stressed about the bank debts, and the next day, you would receive a letter saying that they were paid, other times, you would walk into your room to find some box with a new dress or a pretty necklace, nothing too ostentatious, but special enough to know who it came from without needing a note.
Other times you would simply be having a bad day, and a firm but warm hand would land on your shoulder, squeezing it gently as words of comfort and the promise of a day off were whispered in your ear. You always ended up as red as a poppy when your boss got so close, with that security and trust, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have that kind of closeness with her maid.
For a long time, you convinced yourself that you had simply hit the jackpot with such a kind employer, that her gifts were simple "bonuses" for a job well done, and that they had no further meaning.
But then Enola, that little girl that you had learned to adore and that you were sure would be an unstoppable force when she grew up, would wink at you knowingly as she slipped away to leave you alone with her mother every chance she could, leaving you wondering if, perhaps, you were the one who still hadn't quite gotten the message that mother and daughter clearly had.
Anyway, that didn't matter now, not when those brown eyes were looking at you with the intensity of someone who had something extremely important to say, with a touch of melancholy and...desperation? How strange, Eudoria Holmes was rarely desperate.
"What can I do for you, ma'am?" you asked politely, drying your hands on your apron and pretending not to notice how her eyes followed the movement.
"First of all, you can drop the formality" the older woman raised an eyebrow "I've told you that you don't have to call me that"
"I-it's my job-"
"And you know I don't care about social classes or those rules" she interrupted.
"Right" you cleared your throat, looking anywhere but at her.
Eudoria studied you carefully, taking notes on...well, everything. It was a habit she had developed over the years you had worked in her house. She had long since stopped trying to deceive herself about her feelings for you. She knew it from the moment your face was the first thing that came to mind when she saw a white dress in a shop window.
Had she tried to hide it? Yes, of course. More than anything because she knew the board she was playing on, she knew the consequences that even naming her feelings could have, both for her and for you. But in the safety of her home, the clandestine camp she had built for her secret meetings with the other women of her cause, she could be free, even if only for a moment.
That's why she had allowed herself to let her guard down, had given herself the freedom to observe you, to learn each and every one of those adorable gestures and mannerisms you made unconsciously, which so beautifully revealed your every thought to her, like an open book meant just for her eyes.
Oh, how she loved the way your eyes sparkled at the simplest things, the slight tremors of your lips when you tried to be strong and not cry, the expert movements of your hands when cooking or sewing, the sound of your light feet chasing Enola around the house when you allowed yourself the occasional break. She had learned to love everything about you, despite knowing that the world wasn't a safe place for such affection.
And that's why now, she needed you by her side at the new door she was about to open.
"...You know about the meetings and we do" she said after a moment. It wasn't a question, but you answered anyway.
"I do" you nodded.
It was your tea and biscuits that those women, discussing dreams of freedom and the war attacks to achieve them, ate during those secret meetings. You were the one who kept Enola away from that door, distracting her upstairs while a necessary change was being born downstairs. Yes, you knew perfectly well what your employer was doing, you even admired the cause, and sometimes you allowed yourself to hope it would succeed, but you weren't part of the movement.
"Then you know, it's time for me to leave" Eudoria said calmly, as if you were discussing the weather.
"...So soon, ma'am?" you whispered.
Of course, the woman had told you about her plans to run away, mostly to make sure she had everything covered so Enola would be alright even after she left. You had helped her get her accounts perfectly organized so Mr. Mycroft wouldn't suspect anything prematurely, and between you, Mrs. Lane, and her, had made the necessary arrangements so Mr. Sherlock couldn't easily track her down if he even bothered to look.
You knew it would be devastating for Enola; the girl adored her mother and wouldn't be able to understand why she was being left behind so coldly. Honestly, part of you didn't quite understand it either. Yes, you understood that the cause she was fighting for was important, that it could be a unique opportunity for women, but...did it really justify abandoning her daughter? Couldn't she wait until Enola was older and could join her? Eudoria had said no, that they didn't have any more time, they had to act soon, and that anyway, her daughter had to forge her own path, not follow in her shadow.
So you had simply accepted your employer's plan, helping in any way you could without Enola knowing. You weren't a mother, you couldn't truly understand what Eudoria was feeling, or the reasons for believing that her daughter would be better off there than with her now, but it didn't stop your heart from aching for the girl. And perhaps a little for yourself.
You had grown accustomed to the woman's presence in your life; it would be difficult not to miss her once she disappeared into the darkness of the night. She had assured you that you and Mrs. Lane could continue working for the family even without her there, but you had spoken secretly with the housekeeper, and you both agreed that once Mr. Mycroft returned and discovered his mother's lies, your futures would be uncertain. Even so, you both stayed and helped.
You simply hadn't expected the day to arrive so soon.
"Do you want me to put your suitcases out the back door while Miss Enola is helping Mrs. Lane in the garden, ma’am?" you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat.
"No" Eudoria replied quickly "I'm not leaving today, but in three days"
"Then why are you telling me now?" you tilted your head, confused. "That's not how it was planned."
"I know, but there's been a last-minute change of plans"
Eudoria had to make a great effort not to smile fondly at the way your eyebrows folded into that adorable pout she was sure you didn't know you did when you were trying to figure something out. It wasn't the time to let the seriousness of the matter fade because she was weak for you; she'd have time to contemplate and cherish you later...hopefully, if you said yes.
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and your pulse quicken as your employer approached you with a determined stride. There wasn't a hint of hesitation in the way she gently but firmly took your face in her hand, forcing you to look into her eyes, not a trace of the nervousness you yourself were feeling, only a clear resolve.
"I want you to come with me"
"..."
Silence stretched between you as your brain struggled to process the words. It was a simple sentence, but everything it entailed suddenly felt too heavy on your shoulders. Leaving behind the life you knew, your friends, the people you had come to consider family, leaving behind the security of your home to live in the shadows, following a woman who had clearly made her way into your heart in a subtle yet permanent way.
Eudoria must have seen the surge of emotions and thoughts reflected in your eyes, because she finally smiled at you in that way that always took your breath away, and her thumb gently brushed your lower lip as her face drew a little closer to yours.
"This, my dear, is precisely why I had to talk to you today and not later" she whispered. "You don't have to give me an answer right now...but I'm leaving in three days, and I'd really like to go with a couple of extra suitcases and someone's steps behind me."
"I-I" you stuttered.
"...think about it"
That was all she said, letting her lips barely brush yours, as soft as a butterfly's caress, so gentle you weren't even sure it counted as a kiss. Then she pulled away and turned without another word, leaving you with your heart in your hand, your legs unresponsive, a tingle on your lips, a thousand emotions coursing through your veins, and a decision hanging above your head.
Three days.
