The Opera Singer's Daughter (A Sherlock Holmes Spin-Off Novel)

Chapter Two

Why? The last two letters from my mother may have been odd, with random information I didn't know why I needed to know, but she hadn't hinted at any trouble.

"What kind of family emergency has occurred?" Miss Hunter asked as I tried to make sense of the odd letter.

"We were not informed of the details," Keene said with no little impatience. "All we were told was to come get the girl. Ma'am, I believe we mentioned that we were short on time—"

All of my parents' correspondence to me had only ever been written by hand. I didn't think my father had ever had letters to Miss Hunter typed in this way before. Why would he do so now? Had he needed to dictate the letter to someone who typed it? Why?

"And are you associates of Mr. Norton's?" Miss Hunter asked, her tone calm.

"You could say that, yes," Braxton said swiftly. He held out his hand. "I trust all is in order? Unless you refuse to cooperate with Mr. Norton's instruction...?"

"This is highly irregular," Miss Hunter said, her tone shifting to contain the authority I was accustomed to hearing from her. "Why did the Nortons not send a telegram to warn us of your arrival? It is late, and in the middle of the week! Miss Norton's studies will be woefully disrupted."

 Braxton shrugged his shoulders, still holding his hand out. "Emergency, ma'am. They never seem to happen according to a person's timetable."

"Yes. So you've said." Miss Hunter drummed her fingers, her eyes narrowed. "Why is it you did not come to me first? Surely you see how suspicious it is for two men to approach a young girl on the street."

The men shifted in their seats. "We were on our way here," Keene said, his eyes darting to the side. "But when we saw her, we recognized her from the description we were given." After a moment, Braxton gave a concurring nod. "We didn't mean to cause any worry or concern. Time is short."

"So you continue to say." Miss Hunter shook her head. "Well, the letter's intent seems straightforward, though this whole matter seems a bit havey-cavey." She turned towards me. "Aida, go to your room and pack your bags."

I folded the unhelpful letter, ignoring Braxton's hand some more. "How long will I be gone?" I asked. "A week? Longer? Will I be back for this semester? How much should I pack in my bag?"

Miss Hunter raised her eyebrow at the men, who shrugged. How helpful. My headmistress rose from her seat. "Gentlemen, if you will be so kind as to wait in the hall, I will assist Aida and get her ready all the quicker."

The headmistress put her hand on my shoulder and steered me out the door. "I don't really have to go with them, do I?" I asked as soon as the door swung closed. "I don't trust them."

"Nor do I," Miss Hunter said, her tone regretful. She urged me to keep walking. "I can see no way around it, Aida. The signature appears to be genuine, similar to what I have seen on other letters. I would never expect this sort of thing from your father, though. I could insist on a verifying telegram from your parents, but that could take time.

"And time is the one thing they are not allowing," I said, understanding her point immediately. "Could you not insist on it?"

She shook her head, worry in her eyes. "I fear not. They could go to Constable Higgins with the letter and claim I am holding you against your father's wishes."

And any objection we might have about the letter's validity would only be ignored or brushed aside as female hysterics. "I suppose even if we were to wait for a telegram, we can have no guarantee it would come from my father," I said with a frown.

My words did nothing to ease the anxiety written on Miss Hunter's face. "I'm afraid you're right," she said quietly. "I don't like this but I can see no alternative than to let you go."