Robin was valiantly trying to convince her aunt she was reading, but it was becoming rather obvious that she was doing anything but.
She was really hoping that Sherlock might visit and tell her his answer. Whether it was yes or no, at this point she just wanted to know.
But, of course, she had no idea when to expect him, which was making her exceedingly anxious.
It was almost time for tea when a servant came in to announce a visitor. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes for Miss Ballard."
Somehow, Robin managed to close her book and set it aside calmly. Violet was smiling from ear to ear. "Bring a separate tea to Mr. Holmes and Miss Ballard in the parlor," she ordered.
Before Robin could say anything, Violet had scurried off. She took a deep breath. This was exactly what she'd wanted, but now that he was here, she was even more nervous. Still, she put on a brave face and went to the parlor.
Sherlock was standing by the window, his hands folded behind his back as a servant set out a complete tea for them on the table.
Robin nodded her thanks as the servant left, and then they were alone.
"Hello, Mr. Holmes," she murmured, feeling heat spread over her cheeks as he turned to face her.
"Hello, Miss Ballard," he greeted her. He was smiling, and he seemed content. She wondered what that meant. "I have come to inform you that..."
He was interrupted by his stomach growling loudly. He grimaced sheepishly as Robin burst out laughing, unable to help herself.
"Please sit down, Mr. Holmes, and have something to eat," she invited him.
He sighed and sat. "It occurs to me that I haven't eaten at all yet today," he realized ruefully. "My apologies."
"Does that happen often? You forgetting to eat?"
"Unless someone's looking after me, yes," he admitted.
"You should take better care of yourself," she observed, and began to make them each a plate.
There was good white bread, roasted pork, salmon, several kinds of cheese, and black pepper scones with butter. He accepted his plate gratefully and began to eat, putting some pork on bread and rolling up the piece so it was gone in two bites, as she poured their tea.
"Aunt Violet prefers a heartier, more savory tea in the afternoon," Robin explained. "I must say I prefer it as well. I hope you do too."
"I do, especially right now," he agreed.
Then he reached across the table and placed his hand over hers, squeezing it gently. "Please be at ease, Miss Ballard. I am here to accept your proposal."
She gasped softly and looked up at him. "Truly, Mr. Holmes?"
"Truly. I have even secured my brother's permission to propose."
She raised an eyebrow. "Did you need that?"
He chuckled. "Not particularly, but I thought it prudent." He paused. "He... brought up something that I would like to ask you about."
"Of course," she replied easily. "I'll tell you anything you want to know."
"He mentioned a scandal involving your mother," he began, stopping when she instantly became pale at the words.
Her cup shook in her hand and she quickly set it down. His brow furrowed worriedly and he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Miss Ballard. I didn't mean to upset you," he told her sincerely. "Mycroft said whatever happened was legally resolved, and it makes no difference to me. I merely wanted to separate rumor from fact."
"As is your right, Mr. Holmes. It has simply been so long since it happened, and thankfully I've never had to talk about it."
"You do not have to tell me," he insisted. "I had no idea it was painful."
Normally, when faced with a mystery, even one of no consequence to him, he didn't much care about the feelings surrounding it. But now, he found that he couldn't bear to see her hurt because of his inquiries.
"You deserve to know, Mr. Holmes," she decided. "It concerns you, since we are to wed." She gestured at his plate. "Please, continue eating while I talk."
He nodded reluctantly, waiting for her to begin.
She closed her eyes briefly to compose herself, then started.
"My mother did not want to marry my father. That is not so unusual, of course. Many women do not wish to marry the men who become their husbands. She was not given a choice, which is also not unusual. She and my father were wed, and shortly after, she discovered she was with child."
"You?" he questioned.
"Yes. I was the only child they had."
"Why did your mother not like your father? Did he treat her unkindly?"
"I myself do not know. My father enlisted a woman named Betsy Haver to be my mother's personal maid, and she is still with our family. I trust her above anyone else in this world, including myself. According to her stories, my father was much as he is now. Obsessed with propriety and appearance, convinced that he always knows right from wrong, and wanting to be in control of everything. He's quite intolerable," she trailed off.
He didn't need to know more to understand the story. And she assumed he wouldn't care, especially since he was quite detached from her emotionally.
"A new doctor from the city had just settled near the estate," she continued. "He was much older, and just as imperious, according to Betsy. But, for some reason, my mother thought he was better than my father. She saw his wealth as not being tied down, apparently, and his skills as giving them the freedom to go anywhere they desired. Honestly, I don't even know if she loved him, from the way it was talked about in the village. It sounds like she looked at what he could give her and considered only that."
"She abandoned me the same night I was born and ran with him. It was risky, considering the state of her health, but my father was sequestered and wallowing because I was not a boy, so she knew he wouldn't notice."
"Who cared for you in your mother's absence?"
A child that young was unlikely to survive without its mother.
"I only survived because Betsy had also recently had a child. Tragically, her son died several days after his birth, but she still had milk, so she became my wet nurse. My mother, as far as I'm concerned."
"Thank goodness for her," he whispered gratefully.
He'd never let go of her hand, though it made eating slightly awkward. And he didn't intend to.
She touched her neck self-consciously and glanced at him, her eyes sparkling. "You're kind to say so, Mr. Holmes." She paused to take a sip of tea, her hand steadier now. "My father was quite undone by my mother fleeing. Not because he cared for her, particularly, but because of his reputation. Some men never recover from such a thing. "
She sampled some of the salmon and considered her next words. "Gossip blamed the doctor and his corrupting influence on my mother. My father suffered some ill talk because of his inability to rein her in, of course. But otherwise, he was untouched. Still, it mattered little to him. He felt disgraced. He ceased to run the estate and care for it properly, and he ignored me entirely. Betsy took over my care, and my education, when I was old enough. She taught me how to read and write, and bought novels for me. Thankfully, my father had a respectable library of historical and religious texts already. She couldn't afford to procure books like that. And her husband Donald took over the running of the estate as best as he could."
"Is that why it is in such poor shape?" Sherlock buttered a scone as he spoke. "Because your father failed to fulfill his duty?"
"Yes. Donald did his best, but without the help my father's connections would have provided, the surrounding area fell into hard times. Donald slowly closed portions of the house, rather than letting the people on the land starve to keep it open. And I approve of what he did, wholeheartedly. A whole class of people should not suffer for one family's comfort."
"Your kindness is exceptional, Miss Ballard. I find that it is most often those less fortunate who are the kindest."
"I am hardly less fortunate, Mr. Holmes. I am much better off than most. But when you have experienced adversity, I've found it's much easier to empathize with others who have as well. It creates a natural desire to ease their burdens."
They were silent for a moment, her out of embarrassment at extolling her own virtues, him out of admiration for her.
He coughed slightly and brought them back to the purpose of their conversation. "What did Mycroft mean when he said the matter of your mother was legally resolved?"
"The one thing my father did do was make sure that my mother was cut off from any of his assets, even after his death. He didn't pursue divorce, as that would have entailed further disgrace, but legally, she has no right to anything of his at all. That's what your brother alluded to."
"Does Donald still run the estate now?"
"I do, actually. It's not exactly what my aunt meant when she said I could run an estate, obviously, but Donald began to teach me as soon as I could understand, though he still helps. I've done my best to re-establish my father's connections, even writing under his name, but after being neglected for so long, it's not enough. And they don't want to hear from his daughter either, which is precisely why a husband's name would be useful to me. I could erase the wrongdoings of the past, perhaps."
"Well, my name should do quite a deal of good for you in that way, Miss Ballard. And I have many connections of my own, so if your father's old ones are no longer interested, we can simply make new ones."
"I'd appreciate that, Mr. Holmes."
"So you run your father's estate and manage a writing career? Is there anything else you do, Miss Ballard?" he teased.
She rolled her eyes at him affectionately. "Well, Betsy also instructed me in many of the household chores. It's not proper for a lady such as myself to do them, but they are our only servants, and I was hardly going to run them ragged for my own benefit when they had done so much for me already. I know how to cook, clean, and garden, among other things."
He laughed heartily. "Incredible. I think that's quite admirable, Miss Ballard. You are a most skilled woman indeed. More skilled than anyone gives you credit for, least of all yourself." He savored the pinking of her cheeks as she shyly reacted to the compliment. "So Betsy and Donald are still with you?"
"Yes. I manage to pay them, and I always will. They have a place with me for as long as they want one."
Her voice was firm, and he knew she was relaying another term of their spoken contract. "As they should, Miss Ballard. Your loyalty is uplifting." He paused. "Is there more to your story?"
"Not much," she finished. "My father is not particularly fond of me, though I have tried to please him within reason. He hardly ever leaves his rooms, so he's never found out about my writing. He would be furious if he did. Betsy takes the packages to the post for me so no one knows they come from the house. I am trying to do my best to restore dignity to our family, though he makes it very difficult, and my position as a poor woman, even one of an upper class, hardly helps."
She seemed relieved, and for that he was thankful. "I've never told anyone all of that before, Mr. Holmes. It was quite freeing."
"It gives me a much clearer understanding of you, Miss Ballard."
He tilted his head thoughtfully and her eyes widened as she gazed at him. "Do you have additional questions, Mr. Holmes?"
"I am curious about several things, if you would indulge me."
"I will."
"Mycroft also mentioned that you're a countess?"
She huffed. "That ridiculous title. I frequently forget about it. Yes, your brother is correct. I am a countess. So, when we are wed, you will have a noble title as well. I should have told you, I suppose, but I doubt it would have made a difference to you either way."
"It wouldn't have," he confirmed. "So this is the last time either of us shall speak of it. More importantly, you seem to have a deep sense of responsibility to your family, especially considering that you have previously informed me that the idea of marriage doesn't particularly appeal to you. Yet your family does not appear to have treated you well. So why do you feel such an obligation?"
He already knew that she possessed an excellent character, but that didn't mean he didn't want to know more.
She seemed much less nervous about answering this question, at least. "My family is not just my mother and father, Mr. Holmes. The Bridgertons, for instance, may be my very distant relations, but they are still my family. I do not wish to drag them down through my actions, and I also do not want to be an unnecessary burden on them."
"A burden?"
"We discussed some of my options outside of marriage, Mr. Holmes. I am well aware that my Aunt Violet would never allow me to be destitute. She's made many overtures of help to my father before now for my sake, but he is far too proud, so he refused them. And I am uncomfortable taking too much, even when she offers. That is why I promised myself that I would make at least an effort to find a suitable husband. I do not want my aunt to think that I wish to take advantage of her kindness and just assume that she will care for me if I never find a match. It is one thing if I marry and am later widowed and require her help. That is perfectly acceptable, according to society. But being a spinster is seen as a failure on a woman's part, though there are many other factors determining whether a woman marries or not. And while I am more than willing to work to earn my living, it is ridiculously not appropriate for a woman of my rank to do so. It's a game of sorts, really, and often a futile one, but I am trying to do what is best for all involved and win, if such a thing is possible." She hesitated. "And that includes you, Mr. Holmes. I hope you know that."
He tightened his grip on her hand. "Please don't take offense to this, Miss Ballard, but was this your plan all along? This arrangement? Would you have made it with any man you deemed worthy?"
He wanted her answer to be no. He wanted to be special to her somehow.
He was gratified when she blinked rapidly in shock. "It was not my intention at all, Mr. Holmes. Though I am sure that I must seem desperate to you, since a woman proposing is never heard of."
He shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You gave me a choice, and your terms are more than fair. That's hardly desperate. You haven't attempted to trap me, for instance."
"And I wouldn't, though I easily could have, considering how you've been behaving," she reminded him archly. "I merely saw an opportunity to benefit both of us. My dignity and pride, though I try as best as I can to preserve them, must come second to my knowledge and practicality. And though I realize that our arrangement certainly benefits me more than it benefits you, I feel that it's a fair request to make. You have far more privilege than I will ever have, and you shall not suffer at all because of our marriage."
"I will not. You have said it more eloquently than I ever could have, and it is one of the reasons I am saying yes to you."
"Does it also have something to do with the recent adventure that involved your sister?"
"You are quite astute, Miss Ballard."
He didn't say more, and she didn't press him. They fell into a comfortable silence as they finished their tea, only speaking to request food or drink from the other.
When he was finished eating, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, then glanced at her. "What is our next step, Miss Ballard?"
"Well, Mr. Holmes, though I have already technically proposed, you must propose to me in order for it to be proper."
He grimaced and she laughed. "What do I do, Miss Ballard? Please, give me some guidance."
"I cannot give you too much, Mr. Holmes, or else it will not seem genuine. Come tomorrow with flowers and make your intentions clear to my aunt. She'll negotiate her terms, though I imagine they will not be nearly as stringent as mine."
"What kind of flowers do you like?"
She winked at him. "You're a detective. Figure it out."
"Challenge accepted, Miss Ballard."
He stood and so did she. Then she unexpectedly swayed. Before she could right herself, he had stepped forward and embraced her, holding her safely against his chest.
It had been entirely instinctual, but it was an instinct that he didn't usually possess.
After a moment, she put her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes. I have been on edge since I made my impromptu request, and now that we have settled, I find myself quite exhausted."
"It is my fault for making you wait so long, Miss Ballard."
Their voices were barely above a whisper. In that moment, he would have sworn no one else but the two of them existed in the world.
"Hardly," she protested. "It's an important decision that affects you greatly. I expected you to need time."
Her cheek rested against his chest contentedly. She was warm and soft, and he found himself dropping his head until his nose brushed her hair so he could breathe in her scent.
Something deep in his belly tightened. For the first time, he not only wanted to keep someone close, but to have them closer.
In a flurry of weakness, he asked her something else that had been on his mind ever since her proposal.
"Why me, Miss Ballard? Surely almost any other man would be better."
She shook her head instantly. "No, Mr. Holmes." She tilted her face up so she could look into his eyes as she answered. "You are a logical and reasonable man. I knew that you would see the value in my suggestion and analyze it for what it was."
"I see."
She smiled. "That's not all, though. More importantly, I admire and respect you. You work, even though you don't have to, and the work you do helps people. You are dedicated and choose to hone your craft because you can. You can be surly and impatient, to be sure, but you are also willing to listen and learn. That is very admirable."
She laughed lightly to herself. "What I'm trying to say, Mr. Holmes, is that you are a good man. That is rare enough, even without your other qualities."
"You're very kind, Miss Ballard."
He didn't say more. He was too afraid of saying something he couldn't take back while his guard was down.
Slowly, they separated. He kept hold of her hands. "Tomorrow, then," he confirmed.
"Yes, Mr. Holmes. Tomorrow. Please remember that this plan must stay between us. If anyone were to hear of it, especially Lady Whistledown, it could ruin us both. I would hate for your professional reputation to suffer because of me."
"It is our secret, Miss Ballard. I also hope that we can begin a more thorough investigation of my case once we are officially engaged."
"We must," she concurred. "I still believe that if we can find Miss Beverley's confidante, we will discover her plan. That is what reminds me that we must be so careful with our own secrets."
"You are abundantly clever, as always."
He let her escort him to the front door. Violet was in the sitting room, clearly waiting for them.
"Mr. Holmes, thank you so much for visiting us again. It is always such a pleasure."
She looked expectantly at each of them and Sherlock stepped forward. "It is a pleasure for me as well, Lady Bridgerton. I hope I may call on you tomorrow. I have some matters to discuss with you regarding your niece."
Violet's face lit up and Robin giggled, raising her hand to cover her mouth. "Of course, Mr. Holmes. I would be delighted."
"I am very much looking forward to it." He turned to Robin, lifted her hand, and kissed it. "Good evening, Miss Ballard."
"Good evening, Mr. Holmes."
He left her standing in the foyer, staring at her knuckles where his lips had touched her skin. Violet's hands were clasped under her chin and she was radiant. She quickly moved to Robin's side and hugged her.
"Is he going to ask for your hand, my dear?"
"I believe so, Aunt Violet."
"Oh, I am so proud of you," she told Robin excitedly. "I know you weren't particularly looking forward to the season and were simply putting on your best face for me, but I can see that the detective has feelings for you and will treat you well."
Robin hugged her back. Her aunt was right. Even though Sherlock's feelings for her weren't precisely what Violet thought, Robin knew their's was a genuine friendship, and that no matter what happened between them in the future, they would be happy.