Chapter Nine - The Hunt Continues

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"What, have I left the great Sherlock Holmes speechless?"

The gob-smacked look on his face only added to the fun and made her already wide grin stretch even wider. John chuckled, patting the shocked Holmes on the shoulder. 

"So who was he then?" Holmes chased after her eagerly.

"Who?" she teased. 

"You know who I mean."

"Holmes, leave it, she obviously doesn't want to talk about it," said John.

"Thank you, John."

"Oh I think she does."

"He absolutely hates not knowing," John told her.

"Yes, look at him squirm." She chuckled.  "Is this really torturing you so bad?"

"Yes!"

"Albert. A dear." She smiled fondly. "He got cold feet."

"He left you."

"Holmes!"

"No, he's right.  Jilted me, actually. At the alter. It was right after my father's death, so perhaps I was throwing myself into it too quickly. We've reconciled, though. No hard feelings, not anymore."

"But not fully. Not for you."

She looked away.  "Maybe not." 

She was thankful that Holmes dropped the subject there - for now.  

She thought back to what Madam Cosma had said during their visit: "We all have secrets, Miss Westin. Even you." 

Was it strange, she wondered, that she didn't know if she held any secrets? 

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The following morning, after her tea, Caroline sat before the piano on the main floor of the house. She had a piano at home at the manor, however, she hadn't played it in a while. She found she would sit there silently before the instrument more than she would actually play it.

She and her father used to play together, laughing and singing together while both played the keys at once. The memory made her smile. 

But now she began to play, softly and slowly in practice, warming up her piano-playing muscles and memory.

That was when she heard it: the soft sound of violin drifting down from the floor above - Holmes. It seemed they were playing a duet after all.

Smiling now, she continued. 

He must have tuned up his instrument, for it sounded much better than his early-morning practice the other night. He was very accomplished on the violin, and the two accompanying instruments sounded lovely together. The whole house was filled with their blended melody.

Following their unplanned duet, when she arrived back at her room, she found a note slipped under the door.  

Join me for tea in my dwellings at noon? We have much to discuss. 

-S.H.

She rolled her eyes at the gesture - Holmes avoiding human contact, even when they were living in the same house at the moment.

At noon she headed downstairs and tapped on his door.

"Enter," came his voice from within. 

The room was still cluttered, but had been tidied some - it was certainly not in the state it had been the first time she had visited. There were still piles of object all around, making it look like he was between various projects, having got distracted by another while in the middle of tending to one. The curtains were open, daylight spilling freely into the room, so that was a nice touch and made the room seem a lot more homey. 

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