For WolffeRat
"Well. I must say that the pictures in the Police Gazette and the Times, do neither of you justice." The lady said, as her hand slipped from her father's grasp and she made her way over to the two astonished visitors.
"Doctor Watson, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you." (Y/n) told the confused man. Watson finding his heart beating a little quicker, as she smiled up at him. The doctor taking her hand and kissing her knuckles gently.
"Please excuse me, doctor. I should perhaps explain. The grandfather of a dear friend of mine is one of you patients in London. General Horace Carmichael has been coming to see you for quite some time I believe. His granddaughter tells me that he speaks very highly of you. Not just of your medical abilities, but also of your time in the army." (Y/n) explained. The doctor nodding as he recognised the name of the old man. The General a slave to his fine living and gout.
"Oh, yes. General Carmichael. That old war horse." John smiled, the doctor quickly recalling the old man's last visit and how he was not impressed in the slightest by the odours that seemed to be emanating for Sherlock's rooms.
"He's a good man.............."
"Well, personally I find him a crotchety old thing until his glass is filled with port and there is a cigar in his hand. Though perhaps as you are his doctor, I shouldn't be telling you that." The lady chuckled in reply, as John finally let her hand slip from his grasp. The doctor's beaming smile faltering a little as the beautiful young woman turned her attention to the slender man to his side.
Since the two woman had entered the room, Sherlock had just stood there in silence, his form as stiff as a board. John knew what he was doing; he knew that he was studying her. That the consulting detective was taking in everything he could. Watching her every movement, as she held out her hand for Sherlock to take. Yet instead of allowing his deductions to pass his lips like he would with others. Instead of him spilling every last one of the lady's deepest secrets in front of her father, Sherlock just took her hand and brought it to his lips. The act seeming, to John at least, to last far longer than it should have done. As if time had slowed, as Sherlock's eyes never left those of the lady.
"Mister Holmes. When my father told me that he had invited you and the doctor to the ball, I must confess that I was a little shocked; but not as shocked as when he informed me that you had so graciously accepted and that you had asked to be my chaperone for the evening." (Y/n) said, as Sherlock continued to gently hold her hand. It obvious now to John that the Lord had not informed his daughter of the real purpose for the visit. The doctor putting it down to the fact that the poor young woman had already been through far more than any lady should; and her father had no desire to cause her any more stress. But if he were to be asked, John would say that she seemed to have come through her experience quiet well. It apparent to anyone that, as far as he could see anyway, physically, the only child of Lord Royston was doing well.
"I am an avid reader of your cases, much to my father's dismay. He always tells me that the gorier details are not suitable for ladies; but I find that they are the things that keep me coming back for more. I have often found myself wishing that I could see your deductive process in person, though I never thought it would be possible. Your brother even told me that you.............."
"My brother................?" Sherlock queried. The thought of his brother finally making him speak.
"Yes.............Mycroft............he helped my father with the..............well, with the incident in Europe that you may be aware of. I met him when I got back to England. I must admit that he wasn't quite what I was expected; and I confess that I find it hard to believe that you two are brothers. Physically, you look very different; but I am sure that your similarities can be found more in your minds than anything." (Y/n) explained. Her brows furrowing a little as Sherlock let out a huff.
"I can assure you, my lady, that there is no similarity there either. My powers of observation and deduction far surpass any that my brother may have.........." Sherlock retorted. The detective's brows now furrowing as an amused chuckle left the lady's lips.
"Having read you cases, I do not doubt that for one moment." (Y/n) retorted, an even sweeter smile gracing her face, as she once again looked into Sherlock's eyes. The sound of a small cough from behind the pair causing the lady to avert her gaze.
"Oh, of course. How very rude of me. May I introduce my friend, Bess Buxton." (Y/n) said, as she moved toward the shy, mousy girl and pulled her forward. John giving her a warm smile, as he nodded at her.
"A blacksmith's daughter. Not the usual companion for a lady............" Sherlock commented as he looked the girl up and down, seemingly not impressed. John shaking his head as it became apparent that whatever effect Lady Royston had had on him, it had not extended to the young woman that was now looking incredibly uncomfortable.
"Bess and I have been friends for as long as either of us can remember. I do not see her as anyone or anything but my dear Bess. And if your deductive powers worked on me, Mister Holmes, I am sure that you would have realised that I don't do things like others do." (Y/n) quickly interjected, as she took her friends arm and pulled her close. John doing his best not to chuckle, as the lady calmly put Sherlock in his place. The suddenly sound of a knock at the door, causing all present to turn, as the polished wooden ingress opened. Willum and another man standing in the opening.
"Mister Caine, my Lord." The butler announced. A rather cocky looking, tall blonde haired man making his way into the room. His eyes instantly on the lady; the man licking his lips before allowing them to turn into a smug smile.
"Ah yes..........how could I forget. Perhaps you and Bess would excuse us, my dear. Mister Holmes, Doctor Watson and I have a few things to discuss." Lord Royston commented, before placing a kiss to his daughter's head.
"Of course, father. Bess and I were just thinking about going to the village, and as the air in here has become a little unpleasant, I believe that there is no time better than now." (Y/n) agreed, giving the blonde man a rather unpleasant look before turning her gaze to the other two visitors.
"I trust I will see you this evening at dinner, Mister Holmes, Doctor Watson." She added, nodding politely to the pair, before she and Bess left the room. Sherlock keeping his eyes on the man, as Lord Royston's head of security watched the women leave the room.