{1878, England}
[Maria's point of view]
For as long as I could remember, Mama had told me stories about my father, the great Sherlock Holmes. She told me his name was known all over London, and how he solved mysteries that even the police couldn't figure out.
Solving mysteries sounded like an interesting job, and often I asked her to tell me of a specific case my father had worked on. Mama had come close, so very close to telling me, but that chance had been ripped away once Grandfather found out she was regaling me with stories about him.
I discovered quickly that the name of my father was apparently a banned word in his house. My grandfather rarely spoke of him, and when he did, it was with contempt. "You stay away from him, Maria," he'd tell me. "He's nothing but trouble, for you and for us." When I asked him why, he'd give me a disapproving look and mutter something about the "craziness of that man".
But despite his warnings, I thought about my father a lot. Mama's description of him helped, and my imagination did the rest. It came to the point when I desperately wanted to meet this man I had heard so much about, but to my surprise, Mama had refused.
"Not yet, my darling," she said with a sigh. "Not yet. It won't be for a while. You know how your grandfather is." I remember her voice suddenly becoming stern as she continued. "You must keep your thoughts between you and me, Maria. No one else must know. Your grandfather would like nothing better than to snuff out the memory of your father in both of us. Do you understand?"
I had nodded, understanding quite clearly, and from then on we only spoke of "certain matters" quietly out of earshot of Grandfather.
A few days later, I began to sense that something was wrong.
My mother started to become more suspicious. When we went for a walk or out to town, I would catch her looking over her shoulder at something. When I glanced over my shoulder to see what it was, I saw nothing.
"What are you looking at, Mama?" I asked.
"Nothing, Maria. I just thought..." She shook her head. "It's nothing."
But nothing turned into something.
Mama started leaving me behind whenever she went somewhere, even if it was to the simplest place, like the bakery. I spent my time at home either reading, walking with Grandmother in her gardens, or messing around on the piano in the drawing room. Although there was enough in the house to keep me busy, I missed going for walks with her, so I was a little lonely. Of course, Mama always returned, but she seemed a bit distracted when I went to greet her. This continued for some time before everything came to a head.
One night, I was passing by the drawing room when voices caught my ear. The door was closed, but the crack at the bottom allowed light to spill into the hallway. Being especially quiet, and wondering what was being said, I crept up to the door and peered through the rather large keyhole.
Grandmother was sitting on a ottoman, an expression of worry on her face. Grandfather stood behind her, looking as stern as always, but what surprised me the most was that Mama was also in the room. She was pacing back and forward, speaking quickly. I strained my ears to catch her words.
"...why do you laugh at me, Father?" she said. "I know someone is following me. I can feel it."
Grandfather frowned. "Eliza, there is nothing for you to worry about," he said. "The house is secure, you're safe here." He waved his hand around. "Your imagination is getting the better of you, my dear. You're just being-"
"Just being what?" Mama stopped pacing and whipped around to face him. "I am not being paranoid or unreasonable. You would know if someone was after you too. Why do you think I leave Maria here instead of bringing her with me?"
I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp.
Grandmother shifted on the ottoman. "Eliza, think for a moment. Why would anyone want to hurt you? Unless Maria is the reason you're being followed, but..." She shook her head. "That's impossible."
"I'm the daughter of a lord, Mother. What more of a reason does someone need?"
"Your mother is right," Grandfather cut in, trying to calm her down. "You're not a target for anyone." He stopped for a moment. "Perhaps, if you wish, I could give you a guard-"
"No," Mama demanded. "No, Father, I am a target, just like you were. And if it were up to you, we would all forget it and continue on pretending there's no danger out there."
My eyes widened as silence filled the room and a dreadful tension replaced the sound of words. Grandfather? A target? What was she talking about? I could tell neither of my grandparents liked the topic. Grandmother's face paled as Grandfather's jaw clenched and his eyes smoldered with anger.
His voice broke the silence, cold and unforgiving. "We agreed not to speak of that event, Eliza."
"And why not?" Mama argued. "Because you couldn't bear to see me happy with the man I loved, the man who ended up saving your life? You owe him a great deal more than you think, Father."
"Eliza," Grandmother began. "I don't believe you understand-"
"Oh, I understand perfectly!" She continued pacing again, throwing her hands up as she spoke. "What was so wrong about marrying him, Father? I was happy with him. We were happy."
That was the final straw. Grandfather came around from his position behind the ottoman, his eyes burning. Every part of him was stiff with rage. "Eliza! That's enough! You may no longer be married, but that doesn't change my opinion on the matter. You are my daughter, and I will not have you mentioning that low-life madman in my house!"
A choking sound slipped from my mouth as I realized he was talking about my father. Tears pricked at my eyes, threatening to fall. What was it about my father that Grandfather hated so much? I bristled at those words. A low-life madman, indeed! Half of me wanted to barge into the room and give him a piece of my mind.
I was unfortunately stopped from doing so by the arrival of a most unwanted person.
"Miss Maria!"
My head snapped up as Nancy, one of Grandmother's maids, approached me, looking quite worried. Her blond hair was spilling out of its place under her cap. "Miss Maria, I've been looking for you. I've come to fetch you for bedtime."
I scowled to myself and turned back to the keyhole. Bedtime could wait. I had other pressing matters to attend to at the moment. "One second, Nancy," I muttered.
Nancy, being the ever curious maid she was, bent down next to me. "What are you looking at, Miss?"
I pressed my hand quickly against the keyhole, blocking her from seeing through it. "Nothing. I was just peering through the keyhole and imagining people in the drawing room." It wasn't a lie, per se, but I couldn't let her know I had been listening in on their conversation.
Nancy laughed softly. "That's very funny, Miss. You know," she said as she took my hand, "I used to imagine people too when I was a child. Talked to them, I did."
I let her lead me away from the door, too worried to listen to her talk. Mama was in trouble, and I didn't like that. I wanted to help her, but I didn't know how. I fell asleep that night worrying over her problem.
✦✦✦✦
"Maria, wake up."
A hand shook my shoulder. Still in a haze of sleep, I reached up and swatted exhaustedly at the hand.
"Go away," I mumbled into my pillow. "It's too early."
The hand shook me harder. "Maria, wake up. We need to go," the voice pleaded. "Please, Maria. There's no time for this nonsense."
The desperation the voice held worried me despite my desire to sleep, and rather reluctantly, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. To my surprise, Mama sat on my bed, her hand still on my shoulder. My bedroom curtains were still drawn together from the previous day. A candle resting on my nightstand added a small glow to my dark room.
"Mama?" I asked sleepily. "What are you-"
"No questions, Maria," and her serious tone worried me even more, "I need you up and dressed. They're waiting for us outside." She stood up and reached out to pat a carpetbag sitting at the end of my bed. "Here are your things, child. Now hurry."
I blinked the sleep from my eyes as she left the room. Scrambling out of bed, I dressed myself quickly and grabbed the carpetbag, remembering to blow out the candle as I left.
The hallway was dark as I walked along, the carpetbag bumping into my legs with every step. My five-year-old mind was whirling. Why did Mama want me? And at so early an hour? My thoughts raced back to the discussion I had overheard, and fear made my heart pound faster. Had someone found Mama? Were we safe? What was going on?
She was waiting for me at the end of the hallway. She put a finger to her lips when I opened my mouth.
"Shh. Not a word, Maria. Not until we leave."
I closed my mouth and nodded. Mama took my hand and we made our way to the front door. Outside, the sky was still dark. It wasn't morning yet.
She shut the door quietly behind us, and we stepped down the stone stairs leading to the gravel pathway. My eyes widened at the sight of a carriage waiting silently on the pathway.
Mama opened the carriage door. "Inside. Quickly, Maria."
I scurried up the small step and seated myself on the velvety cushions, clutching the carpetbag to my chest. Mama followed a few seconds later, sitting across from me.
Someone outside closed the door, and I was thrown a bit off-balanced as the carriage started forward. The wheels crunched against the gravel as we pulled away from the front steps, and as the gate lanterns came and went past the carriage, something told me I wasn't coming back to Grandfather's house.
When we had put some distance between us and the estate, I finally decided to ask a question. "Mama, can I, um, talk now?"
When she nodded, I continued. "First, why did you wake me up so early? And then give me a carpetbag? It's obvious we're going somewhere, because we're in this carriage, but where? And why are we going by ourselves?" I cocked my head to one side. "Does anyone know about this?"
She said nothing as she looked out the window.
We were on a secret journey. I didn't know whether to feel excited or nervous. This was the first time I had done something behind Grandfather's back. He wasn't going to be happy about this, not in the slightest.
Mama turned from the window and smiled at me. "We're going to London, Maria. To see your father."
I stared. "London?" Then the full meaning of her words hit me. "We're going to meet Papa?"
I couldn't believe it. I was going to meet my father, the man from Mama's stories.
But then I looked at the carpetbag, and my excitement deflated. "You said this was for me. Does that mean..."
Mama nodded, sadness in her eyes. "Yes, Maria. You're going to stay with your father for a while."
"But why?"
She sighed and leaned forward, taking my hands into hers. "Because right now, being around me isn't the best thing for you. I don't want anything to happen to you, Maria. Your grandfather doesn't understand, which is why he doesn't know I'm bringing you to London."
I looked down at my hands, remembering the drawing room conversation. "I know," I said softly. Sometimes it felt like Grandfather didn't understand a lot of things, like that I enjoyed hearing about my father and his mysteries.
As silence returned to the carriage, Mama suddenly reached her hands up behind her head and removed a necklace from around her neck. A gold heart-shaped pendant hung from the equally gold chain.
"This was a wedding gift from one of your father's friends," she said, reaching over and attaching it around my neck. "Now it's yours."
I fingered the heart lightly, afraid of getting fingerprints on it. "It's very pretty, Mama, but why are you giving it to me? Don't you want it?"
She laughed. "Oh, Maria, I do want it, but I want you to have it more. Whenever you look at it, I hope you'll remember me and know I'll always love you."
Feeling a surge of gratitude in my chest, I jumped down from my seat and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Mama," I murmured.
She returned the hug, but her expression was serious. "Be brave, Maria," I heard her whisper. "Be strong. Be strong for the both of us, for the both of you. Promise me, little one."
"I will," I said, but it wasn't until several years later that I would remember and hold true to that promise.
✦✦✦✦
We reached London a little after daybreak. For someone who had only heard of that great city, it was both fascinating and quite exhausting to watch. People running in all different kinds of directions, carriages trying to weave their way between the streets and the people at the same time, many, many types of buildings and places to see, smoke rising from the factory smokestacks in the distance. It all went flying past in one big blur.
I was getting a bit dizzy by the time our coach pulled up to a stone apartment building. The carriage door was opened and Mama and I were let out into the bustling sidewalk. Through the stream of people, I saw a lantern hanging from a metal arch above our heads. Something was imprinted on the glass panes. Craning my neck to see better, I noticed three numbers and a letter.
"221B," I read as I frowned. "Is this the number of the building? Where's the street name?"
Mama shook her head as she joined me, holding my carpetbag in one hand. "We're on Baker Street, Maria."
"Baker Street," I repeated as my memory came back. "This is where Papa lives, isn't it?"
Mama only smiled as she took my hand and we walked up the steps to the black door. I chewed on my lip. Everything we had done, everything Mama had told me, led up to this moment. And I was terrified.
She must have noticed my sudden change in attitude, because she bent down to meet my eyes. "What is it, Maria?" she asked softly.
I swallowed. "What if he doesn't like me? What if he won't let me stay here? What if..." I didn't have the courage to voice the last part. What if Grandfather was right? About my father, about everything?
Mama shook me gently. "Maria, look at me."
I turned back to her, still horribly nervous.
"Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. Your father is a good man. He can be testy at times, but he's a good man. Remember that, Maria. He won't let anything bad happen to you."
"How do you know?"
Mama's gaze shifted over my shoulder, seeing something I couldn't. "Because he helped me too. In more ways than one."
I blinked, then nodded. I thought I understood what she meant. She could trust my father, and if she could trust him, so could I.
We stayed silent a few seconds longer before she stood up and shook herself. " Are you ready?"
I nodded again and took a deep breath. This was it. The moment I had been waiting for my entire life.
Mama looked down at me one last time as she raised her hand and knocked on the door.
Seconds passed before something clicked behind the door and it opened to reveal an older woman with light blond hair. She wore a white apron over a black dress. Although the woman appeared intimidating, her face was kindly.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
Mama gave the woman a smile. "Yes. Is Mr. Holmes here today?" I watched her smile slipped away. "It's an urgent matter."
The woman's gaze drifted down to me as she nodded and opened the door wider. "Please come in," she said as we stepped into the foyer.
The door closed behind us with another click. "He's upstairs," the woman, who I decided was the landlady, said. "I'll get him for you." I couldn't help but notice she ended her sentence with a small sigh. She disappeared into a side room for a moment, returning with a tray full of tea things in her hand. Giving us one last smile, the woman departed up the stairwell.
Mama continued to hold my hand as we listened and waited in silence for the man who was to be my companion for almost nine years.
✦✦✦✦
*claps hands* I did it! Chapter 2 is done! I hope you guys didn't think it was too basic, but besides that, I feel pretty good about this chapter. More backstory, and the first appearance of Maria's grandparents, who will return in future chapters in Part 1. And the whole situation with Eliza, what do you guys think about that? If you have any thoughts, let me know!
So, what did you guys think?