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

Chapter Sixteen

As I was gazing around, Mr. Holmes slipped free of my hand. When I turned, I caught sight of him moving through the crowd. Clearly, he didn't need me. So I continued to examine the company I found myself in. I knew from Mr. Holmes that many of these gentlemen had roles in the government. Since I hardly found politics interesting, I had no idea who they were. They thought highly enough of themselves.

And many of these gentlemen were irritated.

As I strolled along the edge of the room, it was an emotion I saw on more faces than not. That, and confusion. Why?

Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to discover the answer. I did my best not to tug at the bodice of my dress. Now that I was in company, it felt too low on my chest. Not that I had much to reveal and when I'd first put it on it hadn't felt revealing at all. Was it because I felt so many eyes on me?

Several young men approached to beg my hand for a dance and were reluctant to accept my refusal. Once I was tempted to draw a pin and make my point clear. Thankfully, when Mr. Holmes returned to my side that became unnecessary and the young man slunk away without another word.

"Herr Meyer has been delayed," Mr. Holmes informed me, keeping his eyes on the room. "He was not here to greet his guests."

There was my answer. "That seems a bit rude given that it is his event and he invited everyone here." One of the guests caught my eye. I tried to study him without actually staring at him. His tall frame was familiar but I couldn't immediately place him.

"You've seen Mr. Ware." There was no question in Mr. Holmes' voice.

"If you mean the tall man across the room who has just looked at me, then yes."

With a snap of my wrist, I unfurled my fan and waved it languidly in front of my face. As far as concealing my face, it was a poor attempt but I felt as though I had to do something. Mr. Ware? Oh, yes. He had accompanied Herr Meyer to Baker Street to enlist the detective's help in locating me.

"What are the odds of Mr. Ware or Herr Meyer acting against me while I am here?" It was a question I should have asked earlier but hadn't thought of it. What would Mr. Holmes infer from the lapse on my part?

"Nothing. It would end badly for them and they know it."

They know it? I glanced around the room at all the government representatives. I suppose they were the last witnesses someone would want. Fortunately, Mr. Ware had not given any indication that he recognized me, but caution would be the best course of action.

"If you will excuse me, I intend to learn what I can."

Raising an eyebrow, I nodded my understanding. Had he returned to my side simply to tell me Meyer wasn't there and that Mr. Ware would not attempt anything? "I think I can handle myself."

A brief smile curved Mr. Holmes' lips before he set off. He soon vanished back into the crowd. I continued my observation of the room. The room was hotter than I had expected, and a drop of sweat ran down my neck.

"Irene Adler? You're here?" An incredulous voice asked from my right. When I turned, I found a woman staring at me. She had to be my mother's age, perhaps a bit older. Gray hair streaked her brown hair but she held herself with dignity. "Oh, no. Forgive me. My mistake."
"You know my mother?" I asked impulsively.

"Irene has a daughter?" She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Your mother and I are old friends. I was privileged to share the stage with her when we both were new to the theater. I am Lady Trestle."

Another actress who had raised her station in life. "I'm delighted to meet you," I said with a curtsy. "I am Aida."

"This is remarkable," Lady Trestle said, shaking her head. "I had no idea Irene had a child at all. Though it has been years since I last saw her. This is...My goodness, I never expected this."

Any thought of questioning her died away. If she hadn't seen Mum in several years, there was little chance she could help now. "I'm sure she would be happy to see you sometime," I said, uncertain what I should say next. "She's told me a little about what it was like on the stage."

"She was smart to get out as soon as she could."

But I had seen that Mum regretted leaving the stage. She had enjoyed singing and taking the stage in front of an audience. It was why she would do private performances in aristocratic homes. "I suppose every path in life has pros and cons."