•••
IN ALL HONESTY, the Viscount Tewksbury, Marquess of Basilwether was the least of her concerns. Most them revolved around how she was going to spend the rest of her life if she continued living it away from home, or on how she was going to live once Enola had finished her own quest. But the most plaguing concern?
How she felt about Enola Holmes.
It was an intense emotion- something that filled her senses with a warm, mushy feeling every time she looked (or even thought) of Enola. Almost as if it was love, and who knows maybe it was, but it couldn't have been anything more than platonic. Because anything more then that was wrong. She couldn't feel that way towards a girl. It wasn't right.. Even just to think about.
All it was, was friendship and gratitude. Nothing more, nothing less.
Either way, it didn't matter much in the current moment. The carriage had just arrived at Basilwether Hall, or more notably, Tewksbury's place of residence. This was the first step in finding the boy. Not that Vivienne was particularly elated about visiting another one of these stupid manors, she had already had enough trauma from the past few times she'd attended events in places like these. She didn't say anything to the girl next to her about it, though. She didn't want to make a fool of herself by stuttering out some incoherent words. She didn't plan on saying anything, at least not for a while. Not until she could sort the new feelings she had out.
She looked anxiously out the window, before turning back towards Enola who sat with a stoic expression, facing forward, a veil drawn over her face. Vivienne wasn't dressed as fancily as she was, however. She wore trousers and a blue vest to bring her extra warmth due to here thin button down not doing the job correctly. Her costume was an assistant to the girl next to her who had dressed up as a widow.
"When looking to travel incognito, it's safest to travel as a widow. People are always anxious to avoid conversations about death." Enola had said. "Widows scare them, and there's no better disguise than fear."
As they arrived in front of the home, Vivienne took a moment to gather her wits before they began their walk to the door. Both the girls shared a slightly nervous look, but they soon turned away from each other as they were taken to the lady of the house. And as the doors clicked shut behind them, they were only getting more nervous by the second.
•••
"WHAT'S YOUR BUSINESS HERE?" A man- Sir Whimbrel, she believed he was, asked. He walked in with the other two ladies of the house, all of them carrying themselves with nobility.
"I'm a private detective," Enola spoke calmly, she then gestured towards Vivienne, "and this is my assistant. We've come to offer our services."
They all paused, faces morphing into an array of expressions, before the man spoke again. "My sister-in-law has all the help she needs. Show her out."
"I believe I can help you." Enola fidgeted, her expression faltering slightly before she regained her stance. Vivienne stayed quiet.
"You both are reporters for one of those dirty newspapers." Tewksbury's mother finally spoke. Her head jutted forward out of anger, her eyes filled with fire and disgust.
"I am a lady detective!" Enola reciprocated the action, her eyes darting between the three of Tewksbury's family members.
Lady Tewksbury rolled her eyes. "Please leave," one of the servants came forward and grabbed them both by the forearm, "before we make you leave."
"We work for Sherlock Holmes!" Enola suddenly spoke. The man let go of them, and Enola turned back around, Vivienne following closely. "I'm his assistant. And well, this is my assistant." She pointed towards the girl next to her. "He sends me ahead of time to prepare the ground."
Tewksbury's mother walked forward. "Sherlock Holmes in interested in our case?" Both the girls nodded. "And he sent along a widow to fleece his path?"
"A very good issue to take. May have overthought my outfit."
Vivienne finally broke her silence. "Widowhood, doesn't impact on her ability to do her job. I have been working with her for years-"
"Poppycock!" A shrill voice interrupted. "I'm sorry, but I've heard enough. You do not know Sherlock Holmes."
Vivienne rolled her eyes.
"Oh, Lestrade. So pleased you could make this young lady's acquaintance." Sir Whimbrel greeted him.
"I am Lestrade of Scotland Yard, and I'm a close personal friend of Sherlock Holmes."
"So you claim." Enola turned towards the older woman. "He's never mentioned him."
"And you are not his assistant. He doesn't have an assistant. Nor an assistant's assistant. Sherlock Holmes always works alone."
The rest of them watched anxiously as if it were a play.
"He's changed his ways since you claim to have known him."
Lestrade's eyes widened out of fury. "Impossible."
"Ask me three questions about him, and I'll ask you three, and we'll discover who knows him best. Shall we?" Enola spoke quickly, approaching Lestrade.
"Enough! This circus is not appropriate for Basilwether." Lady Tewksbury screeched.
"She's right. Leave, both of you." Sir Whimbrel agreed, looking between the three visitors as they took shuddering breaths.
"But, Madam, you know me. I am Lestrade, I am from Scotland Yard, and I'm investigating your son's disappearance."
Vivienne thought carefully for a moment. Why would he feel the need to say all of that again? Should they know by now?
The Dowager's deep voice finally spoke. "He has proven useful."
"Mama!" The eldest man reprimanded.
"I don't care if you're from the Houses of Parliament. Leave this house this instant." Lady Tewksbury waved her hands around as she spoke.
The clock's ticks could be heard in the silence, before Lestrade moved past the two girls into the hall, his footsteps echoing as his shoes clicked against the floor. Vivienne moved to follow him, seeing as Lady Tewksbury had suggested they leave too, but paused when Enola still stood there.
As the other girl's face went a shade of red, she mumbled. "Oh! Us too." They began walking out of the room, Enola fixing her veil. "Thank you for having us."
And as they walked out, Vivienne could feel the family's gazes burning holes into the back of their heads.
•••
THE BIRDS CHIRPED AS THEY stood outside, waiting for the carriages to arrive. The lush greenery complimented the stone building, the blue sky making the place look like something out of a book. Vivienne would admit, it was beautiful.
Interrupting the peace, Lestrade spoke. "His favorite tobacco?"
"Black Shag." Enola answered, not even moving to look towards the man. "Favorite dessert?"
"Plum pie. His favorite composer?"
"Paganini. Favorite meal of the day?"
"Breakfast. Are all your questions about food? His favorite case?"
"The one before. Favorite board game?"
Lestrade didn't answer. "How do you know Sherlock Holmes?"
"Chess. But only with a worthy opponent."
The man hummed, before hopping into his black carriage which had just arrived in front of them. With that, Lestrade had gone.
"Oh thank the lord." Vivienne sighed in relief, wiping her face with her hands.
"Hm, he was a tiny bit annoying." Enola murmured. She suddenly pulled up her veil and chuckled, before running towards a gardener, already unfolding some type of plan. "I say!" The boy looked towards her, unimpressed. "I'll pay you five pounds.. to swap clothes with me. You needn't wear my dress if you prefer not to." The boy nodded eagerly. "The young master, he was outside a lot. Am I right?"
"Could never get him inside." The gardener answered.
Enola nodded. "Where would he go?"
The gardener pointed somewhere. "The woods."
Enola chuckled, and looked towards Vivienne who was arched her eyebrow.
And that was when Vivienne knew that there was no getting out of this one.
•••
AUTHOR'S NOTE
okay not in love w/ this chapter bc of all
the dialogue and stuff but whatever.