Sherlolly 1893 AU, sailing on the RMS Majestic on the way to NY and then Chicago. Sherlock meets Dr. Margaret Hooper and is plotting to convince her to terminate her engagement to Thomas.
Previous parts over on AO3
http://archiveofourown.org/works/12505144/chapters/28470916
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The show ended to a standing ovation.
“I don’t remember the last time I laughed so much,” Molly said to her companions. Sherlock noticed a flush to her skin and a twinkle in her eyes that he hadn’t observed before.
“Indeed, Gilbert and Sullivan are always a delight.” Lady Cunningham agreed.
“Gentleman, Ms. Hooper and I will be retiring for the evening. Harold," She squeezed Lord Cunningham’s hand, “I shall see you in the morning. Mr. Holmes, it was a pleasure.”
“It was all mine, Lady Cunningham,” Sherlock bowed. “Dr. Hooper, very nice to see you again as well.”
“Likewise Mr. Holmes,” Molly responded, blushing slightly as Lady Cunningham pulled her gently by the elbow to escort her back to her chambers. Sherlock found himself watching her rich chestnut colored hair disappear through the balcony curtain.
“Mr. Holmes, would you care to join me in the lounge? I like to have a drink and a smoke before bed.” Lord Cunningham invited.
“Of course, I would be delighted.”
The two gentlemen ambled down the hallway towards the lounge.
“I wonder Mr. Holmes, what business brings you to America?” Lord Cunningham inquired.
“I have been summoned to solve a murder in Chicago, but I must admit to you, I am mostly going to attend the Columbian Exposition. “
The two men entered the lounge and sat across from one another on leather davenports.
Mr. Cunningham lit his cigar, Sherlock his pipe, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.
“Lord Cunningham. Forgive me for being so forward, but I must know. How was it that Dr. Hooper and Mr. Marshall came to be engaged and on this ship?” Sherlock chanced asking, hoping not to rouse too much curiosity from his smoking companion.
Mr. Cunningham gave Sherlock a long, hard look; holding the cigar smoke in for several seconds before expelling it in one long breathe.
“He is sailing to America to try his hand at working on Wall Street. Ms. Hooper’s mother and brother entreated my wife to act as chaperone once they found out we would be on this ship as well. Ms. Hooper’s mother is not well enough to travel, and the Marshalls will be establishing themselves in the States. As for the engagement, it has not been along one from what I understand. The Lady would know more, women’s business. However I know the two of them were not acquainted prior to their engagement.”
“Hmmm.” Sherlock responded, biting down own his pipe.
“Although, between you and me, I do not think it is a good match. And, I’ll indulge you since you seem a decent fellow and I know your family: the Lady does not believe so either. Were we still in London I believe she would make her concerns known to the family of Ms. Hooper. Mr. Marshall is a drunkard. While it is not expected for all men to hold their wives in affection, it is improper of him to behave in such a way when he is to be an established business man.” The older man confided.
“And why had no one courted Dr. Hooper prior to Mr. Marshall?” Sherlock pressed his luck.
“Once again, the details of any of that business would be found with my wife. However, I would venture to guess it has something to do with the nonsense of her being a doctor.”
“Indeed. It is unfortunate that so many old-fashioned notions exist. Forgive me Lord Cunningham, we will agree to disagree on that matter.” Sherlock quickly amended.
“It’s alright. I’d never begrudge a man for speaking his mind.” The older man swirled his brandy. “Have you taken a wife?”
Sherlock was surprised by that question. “No. The occasion has not presented itself, I am married to my work.”
“If I may speak plainly, I have grown very fond of my wife over the past forty years we have had together. I would encourage you Mr. Holmes, seek companionship. Your work will not keep your bed warm nor be there to speak with you after a hard day. It won’t bear you children, and it won’t nurse you when you are ill.” He finished the rest of his brandy. “Well, thank you for indulging in an old man’s wistfulness.”
Sherlock gave the man a kind smile. While he had no use for such notions as love and children, he knew better than to chide the average man for indulging in such pursuits.
Molly brushed her hair and examined herself in the mirror. Her heart was racing. Mr. Holmes. Mrs. Molly Holmes. No. Doctor Margaret Holmes. It had such a nice ring to it. She smiled. And then immediately felt like an imbecile. There was no sense wishing for things that could not be. And it was foolish to indulge in such nonsense.
However, Molly could have sworn Sherlock spilled the drink on purpose. No, she was overthinking things. She had been bewitched by Sherlock’s deep voice and his unruly black curls trying to escape his slicked back hairstyle. She felt very naughty at that exact moment as she recalled Sherlock’s voice and countenance. There was no way he had endeavored to force Thomas to leave the theater earlier tonight. But. What if he had? Molly felt her face blush and found herself thinking about the next time she might be able to see Sherlock Holmes.
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The next morning Holmes and Watson were enjoying toast and coffee in the dining hall.
“You were out late last night” John stated.
“I suppose.” Sherlock responded, sipping his coffee.
“Your latest case of course: saving a damsel in distress from a terrible, ill-suited marriage.”
“Please.” Sherlock spat out. “I went to the theater. That is all.”
“Really?” John asked. Clear from his tone that he did not believe him. John drummed his fingers on the table, as though he was waiting for more.
“I may have spilled a drink.” Sherlock added, raising his eyebrows.
“Ok?” John asked, confused.
“Oh Sherlock.” John’s moustache twitched in irritation.
“On purpose.” Sherlock concluded.
“Sherlock!” John shouted. “Stop meddling in her life.”
“What are your intentions with this woman?” John asked.
Sherlock gave a heavy sigh. Resting his forearms on his thighs. He ran a hand through his hair. “I have the intention of getting her out of this ill-suited marriage and ensuring that her brain does not go to waste as a housebound companion for a classless moron, as I have already told you that Watson, please do keep up.”
Sherlock crinkled his nose and pursed his lips, “Sherlock Holmes does not engage in romantic entanglements.”
“You know, Sherlock, I would not even have such an objection to your meddling if you actually cared how you are affecting this woman.”
Sherlock opened his mouth to argue, John put up a hand as though to physically stop him.
“Let’s say she breaks off her engagement based on your advice. She will be disgraced. Her family will be disgraced. She will have nothing. She is a woman, and though she is an intelligent doctor, this world is not kind to women. She is going to be in a country where she has no friend or kin. If she does not have the affection of her fiancé, what will she have?”
Sherlock sat there for a moment. John was right. Dammit.
Sherlock stammered, a rarity. “Well…then…what am I to do?”
It was John’s turn to be quiet for a moment. “I really don’t know Sherlock.” He let out a long sigh. “Is her fiancé really that terrible?”
“He is a classless drunkard who disrespects her at every occasion. Additionally, he belittles everything about her that is fundamentally HER. As you can see, I find it difficult to abide.” Sherlock balled his hands into fists.
“Well, we still have a few days to sort all this out, don’t we?” John resigned himself to helping his friend, and by extension helping Ms. Hooper.
