After the Dock

by "Ah, Russell, what is to become of me?"

This takes place right after the famous "Dock Scene" in MREG:

After our pact was sealed with a handshake, Holmes leaned forward to embrace me again. It was at this point I became cognizant of the extent of his injuries. I kissed him and pulled away, "We must get you home."

"Where is home just now?" he asked, looking bleary eyed with more than what had just transpired between us.

"My flat is closest and Q should be waiting around the corner." I put my arm in his and stepped forward. I soon realized he was going to need a little support. He was badly burned and shaking from the cold. I put his arm over my shoulder and encouraged him to lean into me. "We are the most pathetic of newly engaged couples I have ever seen. You are burned to a crisp and covered in filth and I'm a newly recovered drug addict." I quipped.

"A matched set," he grinned at me through clenched teeth. I hurried us as best I could for I feared he might go into shock. Thankfully, Q came into view with the running motor beside him. I spoke to him.

"Q, we need the rug and a quick trip to the flat if you please." Q responded by meeting me half way to the motor with a rug to throw round Holmes' shoulder. Once settled in, I spoke up to Q from the rear seat, "We need to get back and then call for a doctor."

"Watson," grumbled Holmes, "all I need is an old fashioned practitioner."

"Please fetch Dr. Watson after you drop us," I told Q, giving him Uncle John's address. "And tell him we need inoculations... lots of them."

With this, I turned my attention to the grey eyes beside me in the back seat. They were staring at me over the top of the blanket as their owner tried to still the chattering of his teeth. A long hand shot out from beneath the blankets and stroked my face and hair. Our eyes were locked. I leaned into him and closed my eyes.

Later, after Watson's ministrations, a bath and a meal for each of us, and an expected visit from Lestrade, we settled before the fire.

"How are you?" I asked the impeccably clean and well groomed man lounging in the chair next to mine. He bore no traces of the injury and chill he had suffered. The only indication was a certain stiffness in his movements and in his care not to lean his head too far back against the chair.

"Umm, I'll certainly live long enough to see you through on the promise made me at the dock."

"I should hope so." I replied. "I would kill you if you didn't."

With this I got up and went to him. I sat down in front of him and put my head in his lap. It was a strangely subservient gesture and I had not premeditated it. It just seemed the comfortable thing to do at that point. His long fingers stroked my wet hair and traced lines on my face and neck. The joy of that touch was becoming excruciating when he said,

"Russ, are you sure you want to tie yourself to an old man? There is much to be said against this, and if you still had a father and mother, they would likely urge you to reconsider."

"I won't and they would not. My mother and father were not an "ideal" match in the eyes of the world either. They believed, I think, in love over convention. I think they would see us in much the same light." The word or idea of love was not something I had ever known myself to broach with another human being. It seemed a bit strange after I said it. But, it was meant sincerely and Holmes understood its full meaning. He lifted my chin in his hands and held it there. After a long moment he seemed to come to some decision and he slithered out of the chair, down to my level on the carpet. His arms went around me and he held me to him.

After some time spent thus, he kissed me and things progressed a bit beyond where they had gone that morning on the dock. Suddenly, he pulled back and said, "I think we should both stop and go to our beds, my dear. I would take you to wife before I take you to bed."

"What? Why? Oh Holmes! You are ever the gentleman. Need I remind you I am not a Victorian lady? This is the twentieth century."

"Nevertheless, you are a lady and I will remain a gentleman, both now and after I can hold you all night."

I kissed him lightly and for once in my life, agreed. A great deal had happened in that one day and I needed time to collect myself. "We'll talk about how and when we plan to legalize this in the morning then."

"Very well," he answered and his lips brushed my forehead in that chaste manner they had done often before.

The next morning was an early one for me. I had slept fitfully despite my extreme fatigue. I wanted him next to me. After all, we had slept within arm's reach many times before. I cursed his damned Victorian morals more than once that night but also understood them. He was treating me with the utmost respect and reconfirming in this new area of our relationship all I had ever known to be true of him in other areas. I knew without a doubt I had made the right decision. I could be with the man I loved more than life itself or spend the rest of my days alone. There were no other options for me. I reflected on the few things Holmes did not know about me. There were not many. He had been my friend and mentor for so many years that there were really no secrets between us; just unexplored territory.

As I was sitting in the window of my bedroom with my coffee, a knock came at the door. Holmes entered and came over to me at the window. I could tell the burns to the back of his head must pain him and that he had not slept well either. I wondered if his sleeplessness was for a similar reason as mine. He stood there in his dressing gown and lit his pipe, puffing at it for some minutes before addressing me.

"I think we should tell Mycroft of these new arrangements and let him seek out a man to do the job."

"What of Uncle John and Mrs. Hudson? I don't think we gave any indications to Uncle John yesterday."

"No, none that Watson would have noticed. He was too busy patching me up. Hmmm. I was thinking a bit of a surprise for them."

I knew what he was thinking. He enjoyed a dramatic moment as much as I and I could tell our minds were going along the same paths.

"Perhaps a breakfast at Mycroft's to celebrate my birthday." I ventured.

"Just so!" his eyes sparkled.

He came around the chair where I was perched and pulled me up to him. After a moment he said, "You know there are a lot of practicalities to work out. Not the least of which is when you want to do this."

"Today or tomorrow would be fine." I suggested.

"Goodness, Russ; why the hurry?" His eyes gleamed in a most unseemly manner when he said that. I gently swatted at his face. "Well I suppose there is no reason to wait. We must obtain the license first of course. Why don't we take care of that this morning?"

"Fine; let's get some of Mrs. Q's lovely breakfast first. I'm famished."

After we had breakfasted, we went to the City and got the marriage license. It was strange to be standing next to Holmes, applying for such a thing. It seemed surreal. Usually we were in city offices to interview people or do research or some such thing. The errand had never been so personal. Soon though, we were cleared to marry in the eyes of King and country in the next thirty days. I, for one, had no intention of waiting that long.

We proceeded to Mycroft's and found he was at the foreign office. We made ourselves comfortable and while Holmes coaxed the fire, I made tea. When Mycroft came in after eleven, he found us sharing his divan, which we had moved closer to the fire. I was sleeping with my head in Holmes' lap. He was smoking his pipe and had one arm thrown over me. My hair was down and fell over his arm. I awoke with a start from a deep and contented sleep. It was the best sleep I had known since Holmes found me that cellar in Essex mere days ago. I heard Mycroft say, "Well, well dear boy; what have you done to our dear Miss Mary? She looks positively defenseless."

"Not to worry, old man," replied Holmes. "Russell is far from defenseless, but I do intend to marry her as soon as you find someone willing to officiate."

"Indeed?" chuckled Mycroft. At this juncture I was fully awake and sat up, belatedly aware that I looked rather disheveled about the blouse.

"It mustn't be anyone religious as neither type would do." I said and smiled up at Mycroft.

"Sister Mary;" said Mycroft and he smiled, "I don't think 'just anyone' would do to tie the knot twixt you two. I shall find the man. When do you wish this to occur and where?" With this he looked to his brother.

"I was rather thinking here... tomorrow morning would do. I mean, if that does not put you out or anything. Afterwards, we should like to have a little surprise breakfast for Watson and Mrs. Hudson... it being Russ' birthday and all." Holmes' tone was almost deferential. I wondered what brought that out of him, so I broke in and said,

"That seems rather a lot to demand on such short notice." I offered. "Certainly we could use my flat."

"Not at all," said Mycroft. Suddenly energized, he lumbered over to the sideboard and pulled out some champagne flutes. He left the room and returned a short while later with a dusty bottle of champagne. I took the interval to straighten out my blouse. "I would not miss this for the world. Tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. shall we say for the ceremony, followed by a breakfast to which we shall invite the good doctor and Mrs. Hudson with the idea they are being hosted to a birthday gathering in honour of Mary; ideal." With this he popped the cork and we shared the excellent champagne.

I had no idea the preparations one should make for a wedding. It was just as well, as I had no time to make any. The only thing I did do was take some time that day to go alone to visit the Elves and to my solicitor. I threw the Elves into fits of apoplexy by telling them I was to be married the next morning and did they have anything in the works for me that might be nearly finished. A lovely blue woolen concoction with a fitted jacket and belt materialized and they finished sewing it with me standing inside. While they were working, the gentleman I had met two weeks before (a lifetime ago) brought in the shoes and some handbags. I ended up with the suit, a velvet hat with a mesh veil of sorts, a pair of beautiful blue shoes with (thankfully) small heels, and a bag that matched the hat perfectly. Before I left, gloves and gossamer silk stockings were added to the trousseau. I thanked the Elves profusely and paid the hefty bill before leaving with my purchases all carefully wrapped and hung.

My next stop was the solicitor's office. I had a question for him. He ushered me in and offered me tea, which I accepted gratefully. I dropped my bomb quickly before I had time to think it all through. "I am to be married tomorrow and was wondering if you knew where my father's tie pins and such were. I know there were some diamond ones he kept here in England. I would like to have them to give to... my... um, husband."

Dear man, my solicitor. He was shocked but tried to retain a veneer of professionalism.

"Well, congratulations, Miss Russell. Is this someone you have known for awhile?" There was concern, bordering on alarm in his eyes as his said it.

I smiled.

"Oh yes. Don't worry. I am not a new heiress being married for her money. I am marrying my longtime friend and mentor, Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"You don't say?" He seemed relieved but could not help himself from asking. "Isn't he an older man?"

"Yes. He is over thirty years my senior."

"Well, it is none of my business really to ask. I only wish you every happiness."

"Thank you."

"Will you be wanting to add Mr. Holmes to your official documents?"

This was something I had not really given any thought to at all.

"Well, I honestly don't know at this point. I guess he and I will discuss it and let you know later. Now, do you know where any of those things of my father's were kept?"

"Yes. Well, certainly. Anything that was left here in England would be in the safe deposit box at Charing Cross Bank. I can take you there immediately if you wish."

This man had always loved my mother. It was clear he had transferred at least a part of that to me. He must have had a hundred other things to do rather than escort me personally to the bank.

"Thank you. I would love to have you along."

Q drove us to the old, respected bank. My solicitor (Mr. Steven Cohen) walked in with me and several of the old heads at their desks turned in surprise. Clearly Mr. Cohen was known there. A bank owner came rushing up...

"Miss Russell, what a surprise. You look so like your father that several of us were taken quite off guard. We are delighted to have you."

At this point, Cohen broke in, which was just as well. I was still digesting the ebullient greeting. Just a few weeks previous I had been virtually penniless. I was not used to such greetings and I felt more than a little disturbed by learning how like my father I must look now. I marked the emotions I was feeling down to fatigue and the extremes I had been through in the last few days.

I was shown to a paneled office, plied with tea and cakes and waited while they brought me the safe deposit box. Inside it was far more than I expected to find. The tie pins I remembered were there, along with some matching cuff links. I put these aside for Holmes and dug down further. I found a locket, encrusted with peals and opals; I remembered it vaguely. I opened it and was confronted with a picture of my father, Charles Russell. He looked younger than I remembered him. He stared out at me over his spectacles and smiled. I clicked the locket shut and put it back into the box. It was too much. I could not bear to think of them on the eve of my wedding. My hand reached into the box again and came up with a welcome prize: father's wedding ring. Perfect. I had no idea if Holmes would consider wearing it, but no matter. It seemed right to give it to him. I remembered my father always had it with him when I was young, but he never actually wore it. For a time, my mother wore it on a chain when father was in America and we were here in England. I could not fathom how it got here to the safety deposit box but I decided I would rather not speculate if there had been deeper meaning at the time it was placed there. I took the ring and other jewelry and asked Mr. Cohen and the banker, "Do you know a good jeweler?"

"Certainly, your mother's cousin, Mr. Diskin, is a first rate jeweler and I believe is open today. Would you like me to take you there?"

"Of course, if you have the time." Naturally he had the time. I realized this man was parenting me in a way. Perhaps he felt some sort of responsibility for me. It was touching, but unnecessary. But, all the same, it bothered me that he seemed to know more about my family than I did.

The jeweler, Diskin, was most entertaining. He was almost crude but had a sharp mind and worked on the ring and spoke with me at the same time, telling funny stories about my mother as a girl. While I was there, Diskin's wife, who was named Judith, after the same ancestor as my mother, I learned, cleaned and wrapped the tie pin and cuff links. In the end, I had a prettily wrapped gift and I had a wedding ring for Holmes. Inside it was engraved a date and our initials. Mr. Diskin refused to let me pay and simply asked to kiss my cheek. He leaned over to kiss me and said, "Your mother, Judith, was dear to us all, you know. It's good to finally see you. I am sorry your aunt was less than ideal as a guardian, but there was nothing we could do." I found myself wishing vaguely that these people had been my guardians during the last six years. I promised to see them again and bring my new husband.

Finally I turned for the flat. Upon reaching it I was greeted by a strange sight indeed: a bouquet of beautiful roses with a note from Holmes. It read: My own dearest Russ, I will see you tomorrow. I shall spend the last night of my (lengthy) bachelorhood at Mycroft's and will await your arrival on the morning. Yours unreservedly, Holmes." I was stunned.

This man was too much. I could not in my wildest dreams have imagined such an outpouring from him. My hand went to my face and brushed away some inexplicable wetness there. I leaned into the roses and took a deep breath of them. I knew why he wanted to spend the night at Mycroft's, being together for another night in this flat was simply too tempting and he was going to stick to his Victorian morals to the end.

After dinner and a bath I fell into bed. I meant to stay awake and contemplate this last night of my maidenhood but I was unable. The activities of the last few days had me in their grip and I slept, deep and alone in the comfort of the bed.

The morning arrived and Mrs. Q woke me with a knock on the door at the requested hour of six a.m. I wanted to try and make myself as presentable as possible. I had asked Mrs. Q, who had once been a lady's maid, to help me with this project. She had been thrilled by the news that I was marrying Holmes as she had apparently decided this was in my best interest before I had. The lady had powers I would have never guessed; she gave me a manicure (sorely needed after the time I had spent in the cellar), and brought me an assortment of perfumes and powders to chose from. Finally she helped me into my new clothes and did my hair. She did not even start or stare at the many scars and the horrible shoulder. She was the epitome of a professional servant. I had really never had such an experienced person do these things for me. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a young woman I barely recognized. As a final touch, I put on the pin Holmes had given me on my eighteenth birthday and some pearl earrings of my mother's I had found in the safety deposit box. The earrings were simple, which I thought added to the look of elegance I was hoping for.

It was almost time to go to Mycroft's. I felt amazingly calm about it all. It was as if my innermost self had known of this all along. I wondered what Holmes was thinking just now. Normally, I could have made an accurate assessment of his thoughts in any given situation, but this one broke all the rules. Just then the phone rang. I reached for it without even giving Q a chance to answer. I knew it was Holmes. I could see his sardonic little smile through the connection: "Are you awake?"

"Yes, I think so. Why? Did we have some sort of appointment?" I heard him pause and then realize his mistake.

"No. I was just saying hello."

"Oh. Well, I do seem to remember I have some sort of appointment or another at 9:00 so I'd best get going."

"Right then; see you there."

"Yes, you will see me there." I heard him chuckle as he hung up. Silly man; I had never known him to call me for no reason at all. I thought for just a moment (but then dismissed the thought) that he had really wondered if I was going to go through with this. He did not seem on entirely familiar ground as this point: me either.

Q asked if I was ready for the motor to be brought 'round and Mrs. Q kept trying to readjust my hair. They were beginning to drive me into nervousness with all the anticipation in the air. I wondered for a moment if I was to invite them but then decided they seemed to like their roles as traditional servants. I picked up the two boxes for Holmes, the one with the ring I slipped into my handbag and the other I carried.

Before I knew it, I arrived. Holmes was waiting just inside the door to his brother's flat. He looked resplendent in his dark coat and snowy white collar and shirtfront. I had to admit to myself he was the best looking man I could hope for, age be damned. He did not look a day over forty. I felt almost shy all of a sudden. We looked each other over for a moment and then he came to me. "You look splendid, Russ." He said.

"As do you," I replied. I leaned toward him and kissed him on the mouth and said, "thank you for the flowers." He looked pleased and kissed me back. At that point Mycroft entered the room rather loudly.

"Sister Mary! You look a most radiant bride, my dear." He came over and kissed me on the cheek and took my hand. He led me to the settee and indicated I should sit. I did so as he said, "I've told Sherlock that the plans we made yesterday are going quite well. Dr. Watson and Mrs. Hudson should arrive between 10:00 and 10:30, and I believe that is the step of your officiator I hear now."

"Exactly who would that person be?" I asked Mycroft.

"I cannot get him to tell either. He insists it is some sort of game," put in Holmes.

There was a flurry of activity downstairs and suddenly the door flew open. The man who stepped in was a familiar and august face. I could only assume he had come to bring Mycroft away on some errand of state.

"May I present you with your esteemed officiator?" Mycroft wheezed through his laughter at the look on our faces.

"Mr. Prime Minister?" I managed to get out as Holmes went to the man and shook his hand.

"Certainly this country in deeply in your debt Mr. Holmes, well, to both the Mr. Holmeses, and this was the least I could do. Mycroft suggested it to me and I decided a few minutes out of my schedule to marry the famous detective and his lovely assistant too important a task to refuse." I decided to let the "lovely assistant" part of the speech go. In fact, I was embarrassed to report to Holmes afterwards that I did not even note it until later. I was too awestruck by what had transpired.

And so it was. We were married by the Prime Minister himself in Mycroft's flat on that cold February morning. I gave Holmes the ring as a surprise during the ceremony and much to my surprise he gave me one as well.

After the brief ceremony, the PM left and we had a good half hour before our other guests would show up for their "birthday breakfast." Mycroft offered us coffee, chuckled again and left us alone in the sitting room. "Come here, wife," my husband said to me as he indicated a place on the settee next him. "I want to give you something else." With this he pulled me close and held me. His long hands went over my face and then took each of my hands up and held them in turn to his lips. "Because I have managed all this, marrying you this morning and never telling you, I owe it to you to say how very much you mean to me and how much I love you." I replied by kissing him and whispering in his ear,

"I know you do, but thank you for telling me. I love you, too. I very much want to be alone with you. Your little quip atop that hansom a month ago set me thinking, you know." I smiled. Inside, though, I grimaced a bit. There were things about me that Holmes might not know or expect. I should have told him yesterday but there was never any time. Here we were, married, and the man did not know all he should. I would have to say something before we were alone. This resolved within me, I let the matter go and simply enjoyed the moment. Holmes answered my reference to that cab ride and said,

"Since you pulled me dripping from the Thames and until this moment, I had allowed myself to hope you had been." He smiled and proceeded to drive me to distraction once again. "Alone we shall be and soon, my dear. I think I've arranged something you will like. For now, though, we must play our parts and carry out our joke on the two I hear arriving just now." As he stood up, I remembered once again the things I needed to say. Now did not seem the right time or place. It would just have to wait.

Neither one of us had put on the rings so there was actually no evidence of what had taken place. He had told me to leave the rest up to him. Mrs. Hudson came in first and it was all I could do to keep quiet. I had not realized how hard this particular charade would be to carry out. "Mary! You look radiant, dear!" she exclaimed as she came toward me and kissed my forehead. "I see being freed from your aunt's tyranny has done you well. "You are rather too thin, though. You must come to the cottage and let me feed you. Mr. Holmes will enjoy the company. He has been working too much lately. Ah, there he is. What is wrong with the man's head?" With this she turned to her employer and went to him, "Mr. Holmes! What in the world have you done to yourself this time? I assume the good doctor has taken a look at that mess." Holmes answered her in his high irritated voice (which I thought sounded forced),

"Enough! Mrs. Hudson. We are here to celebrate a birthday and not to exclaim over my frailties!" Mycroft steered her away and went to the sideboard to offer her a drink. It was none too soon as I saw Holmes turn away and cover a smile.

Dr. Watson came into the room with a giant bouquet of flowers for me and brought me to them directly. I had begun to feel rather guilty about this whole thing and was wondering if I could keep up the façade much longer.

"Uncle John! You shouldn't have. They are perfectly lovely." I kissed his smooth cheek and he held me at arms length and examined me.

"You are radiating with something Mary. I guess your majority must agree with you. I have never known you to blush so." He held the back of his hand to my forehead, "you are not feverish so I will just assume it is good fortune and youth that are showing on your lovely face. However, did I give you anything for the "exposure" you endured the other day? I noticed you had some of the same muck on your shirt as Holmes but I didn't think to give you the shots." At this I winced, for I could not think he was going to surmise how I had gotten "exposed." "I had better do that. I'll go fetch my Gladstone. I brought it with me to re-bandage Holmes and the injections are still in there."

"Oh, Uncle John, do not worry about me so. I am happy. It is a particularly fine day and it is so lovely to see you outside of that dreary hospital where you sat watch over Ronnie or under the conditions when we met the other day. "

Holmes and Mycroft came round and handed each of us a crystal flute of champagne. Holmes was positively giddy (if such a word could be applied to him.) I wondered if it was the event that had just taken place or the joke he was enjoying so. Mrs. Hudson wondered aloud if it wasn't a bit early to imbibe but Holmes cut her off, "Quite, quite Mrs. Hudson, but I have a toast to make and if I am to make a proper one I must have a proper potion." I steeled myself. Surely this was it. Holmes held his glass aloft and looked at me, "I would like to propose a toast to Russ on this delightful day, the day she became my wife and to ask;" he paused, "dear friends, for your blessing." There was a silence and then I heard Uncle John break into first an expression of utter amazement and then go and clap Holmes on the back,

"Why you old scoundrel, you; you married her this morning and did not tell Mrs. Hudson or I until now? That is just like you Holmes, always the dramatist!" I began to think the sweetest, gentlest man on earth was actually angry when Mycroft broke in,

"Here, Here Doctor! It was only yesterday I was let into the secret and that was merely because they wished to marry here!"

"To be honest," I broke in, "we only decided this the day before yesterday ourselves."

Mrs. Hudson was laughing quietly and suddenly broke into gales of laughter as she said, "Oh, Mr. Holmes, indeed, it is the best thing you have ever done. I dare say Mary knows better than anyone what she has let herself in for! Who would have thought it? I think it's wonderful."

At that point, the tension in the room was broken and everyone began to laugh and speak at once.

There was a great deal of affection in that room on that morning. Holmes was more relaxed and open than I had ever seen him up to that point and endured a great deal of ribbing from both his brother and Watson. When we had all eaten a beautifully prepared breakfast, the men went over to the fire to smoke. Mrs. Hudson put an arm on my sleeve and indicated the two chairs farthest from the fire. I sat with her and waited for her to speak, "Mary, you are like a daughter to me my dear. I hope you don't mind me saying it."

"I don't. And I thank you for helping me grow into a woman."

"My pleasure for anything I have done in that direction. Well, dear, if you had a mother now she would want to talk with you before your, um, wedding night. I want you to know you can ask me any questions you like and you need not feel embarrassed. A woman must have another woman to talk to in times like these."

"Oh, I do appreciate that. I think I am pretty knowledgeable. I read some things up at University and talked with the other girls. But I am worried about one thing, I have not told Holmes everything about what the accident did to me when I was fourteen." Mrs. Hudson looked alarmed but said,

"Go on, dear."

"I don't think I will ever have children. My pelvis was crushed, you see, and although everything healed the doctors told me that having children would be very unlikely. I don't even know if he wants any. I just haven't even had that sort of conversation with him and I hope it won't disappoint him." I hadn't planned to tell Mrs. Hudson this. I did not even know how much it was plaguing me but I realized as I spoke that a part of me felt somehow less womanly because of this.

"Dearest Mary, you have seen and been through so much in your short life. Mr. Holmes has seen and been through a great, great deal in his long one. I don't think that the obvious love he has for you would change one iota if he knew of this. Just tell him and he will understand. Besides, he is much too old for having little ones underfoot!" She laughed and squeezed my hand. "You are perfect for him and that is no small order. Don't you ever forget what you have done for that man by loving him."

"Or what he has done for me by doing the same." I smiled. Mrs. Hudson's eyes were brimming and before mine could do the same I squeezed her hand and stood up. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Of course, dear," she answered. I knew she understood my discomfort at the nearness of tears.

Soon it was 1:00 in the afternoon, and our party broke up. Uncle John came over to me and led me by the hand to a corner. "Mary, you do know what you have done?" He face was lit with that gentle kindness and he looked me deeply in the eyes.

"Of course I do! Whatever are you talking about?"

"My dearest, he will not be the easiest of husbands."

"Nor I the easiest of wives; enough, Uncle John. Wish us well and stop your worrying or I shall be decidedly out of sorts with my favorite uncle." With this last statement I kissed him and turned from him to Holmes, who had been observing us. I walked to his side and put my arm through his and said, "Husband, it is time we were off. We need to let our well wishers wish us well so they can go to their respective homes."

"Indeed. Let's away, bride of my age." He said this with a smile on his face that betrayed something I could not quite interpret.

I had no idea where we were going or by what means, so I followed Holmes' lead. We were met outside Mycroft's building by an unusual conveyance for 1921 but by no means a lost one; a hansom cab with a horse I recognized. It was the intractable animal at which I had recently thrown a bottle. The cabby I also recognized as Billy, a onetime irregular that still worked for Holmes on occasion. Holmes' strange sense of humor never ceased to amaze me. We both laughed heartily at the joke as our mystified family and friends looked on. Holmes handed me in and sat down next to me. He covered us both in a warm traveling rug and held my hands fast between his own before I asked, "by the way, where are we going?"

"I will not tell you. You have to wait."

"A bolt hole perhaps?"

"No such thing for our wedding night. No." We wound through the city for over an hour and were soon in the outskirts of Kent. We went down a drive surrounded on all sides by a garden gone to seed but one that must have still looked lovely in summer. Finally a house came into view. It was very old and had a look of recent occupation. "Holmes, what is this place?" I was truly puzzled as it looked as though were driving to some gentleman's home and simply preparing to knock on the door.

"This is one of our homes, my dear."

"What?"

"This is one of the homes long owned by the Winthrop family. The Winthrops were my grandparents and, as you know, my grandmother was a Vernet. Her husband and my grandfather was Lord Robert Winthrop of parliamentary fame. My mother was raised in this house and it is here she brought Mycroft and I to visit for weeks at a time in order to escape the moods and whims of my father Although the Holmes family seat is in Reading, father lived here after Mother's death until recently when he died. His presence prevented me from enjoying it or indeed ever being here at all. Upon his death, Mycroft and I (and you) have inherited it as those were our grandfather's wishes. The current Lord Winthrop, my cousin, lives in another family home in Surrey. We have begun to renovate it as Mycroft fancies living here when he retires, which, as you and I both know, will be never. It is the place on earth that holds my happiest family memories, the earliest ones, of my childhood. I wish to bring you here, I suppose selfishly, to reestablish it as a place of love. I hope you don't mind."

He seemed almost embarrassed, but not quite, and was looking to my face for a response.

"Holmes, it is a beautiful place and I think we can make some progress towards a happy home here by starting this very night. I am glad you brought me here." With this he kissed me hard and did not pull away until we heard the ancient door creak open. In the doorway was framed the ancient figure of the butler. He stood quietly and then came forward to help us in.

"Bradford, this is my wife, Mary Russell Holmes."

"Madam, we are delighted to have you here, let me know if there is anything you require."

Holmes responded, " is everything prepared as I instructed?"

"To the letter, sir."

"Good, Bradford; that will be all until we call for supper."

Bradford, the ancient servant, disappeared. I was a bit taken aback by it all, to say the least. I knew Holmes' family was a genteel one of some sort but I had not known it was "this" kind of family. He was from something more than a "simple country squire."

I did not have much time to wonder. Holmes took me straight into the room that had obviously been the heart of the house, the drawing room. It gleamed with exotic woods and was perfectly decorated with new furnishings and held a vast fire place. There was a fire roaring there and I immediately went to it to warm myself. I looked up and saw a woman smiling down at me. It was my mother in law, I realized with a start. Violet Holmes was lovely and looked at me through the same clear, gray eyes that she had bequeathed both of her sons. I wondered who she had really been and what she had thought and felt. I could not help but wonder what she might have said about her youngest, married for the first time at sixty to a twenty-one year old woman. Holmes, who had been watching me, said, "She would have approved."

"You mustn't do that, Holmes." I said, "Mind reading is sometimes really unbecoming. But in this case I will grant you are right. She looks like the kind of woman who would have understood and approved."

"Why have you never mentioned this place before?"

"I could not. I did not even remember the happiness I felt here until recently. Besides, I did not know if you would want to come here. I just didn't know, until recently, what you wanted to know about me beyond our little world in Sussex and our work."

"Everything," I said, looking steadily at him. "I want to know and be a part of everything in your world." I went to him and held out my arms to where he was seated in the chair. He pulled me onto his lap and said,

"Thank you, dearest one. We needn't live here or do anything at all with the house; I just wanted you to see a piece of my past that I have never shown anyone else. I kept it all buried, the good and the bad from that time, and have only now come to remember there actually was some good. There had to be, or I would never have had the sense to hang on to you."

"I have never known you to be so sentimental, but I must say I like it; even as I must admit to being a bit overwhelmed."

"Don't worry, wife, I will not make a habit of it." He laughed and slid his arm snugly around my waist.

"Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

I nodded and stood. He offered me his hand and we proceeded to take a tour. A great deal of the house was in disrepair and many of the old pieces of furniture were draped in muslin covers, sitting in silent rooms. He introduced me to the people in the portraits that lined the walls as we walked. Each one had a unique story to tell. I realized that Holmes must have been very like his mother and her family. Certainly, he never mentioned his father. Finally, I asked, "You say your father was living here and yet his portrait is not to be seen."

"Russ, my father was not a good man. He made our lives a living hell. He only lived here after mother's death because he felt it was owed him somehow. He always tried to act as though he were equal to my grandfather in stature. He was not. He inherited this house because my grandparents wanted my mother and then Mycroft and I to have it."

"I am sorry he caused you so much pain." I answered.

He looked at me steadily for some minutes but said nothing.

He took me down the main hall of the upstairs and opened a large door. Inside, it was a lovely room - a bedroom for the master and mistress of this place. It was newly furnished and had been renovated. There was a huge bed with an old fashioned large and ornately carved footboard and headboard. There was also a sitting area with a fire and a modern bathroom had recently been added. But more surprising than this lovely room was what was in it: There were flowers everywhere; an ice bucket with champagne, and on the bed there lay a lovely package. It was a vision, this room. It was, in every respect, a romantic retreat. I stared at Holmes.

"You arranged this?"

"Of course," He sounded hurt as he said it and raised his eyebrows a notch. "I thought it was what you would like."

"Oh it is! I just never thought that you would know! It's perfect. I feel like a princess."

"Good; you are. For this one night, I shall treat you as one. Soon we will go back to our workaday selves but," he smiled and his voice trailed off. He looked at me and said, "Go look in that box on the bed."

I did as he bid and found inside it an amazing garment. It was a diaphanous silk gown that had a matching robe. Both were beautiful and looked like nothing I had ever before worn. "These are lovely. I've never had anything like them."

"I'm glad to hear it;" he said laughing. "Go put it on."

Again, I did as I was bid. This all was so much to take in. I was feeling rather lightheaded. I slid off my lovely woolen suit, the shoes and the silk stockings. Gloves and hat I had left with Bradford. I noted the gown did not accommodate any sort of underclothes. I let those slide to the floor as well and put on the feather light gown. It felt delicious against my bare skin. I put on the abbreviated robe as I shivered; not from cold but from the thought of what else I might feel against my bare skin this evening. I left the safety of the bathroom and stood before my husband. He was standing by the fire in his stocking feet, his coat gone and his tie thrown to the floor. He looked me over in a most forward manner... I truly felt devoured by those eyes. His look made me feel so lovely, as though I were actually the prettiest woman on earth. "Take off the robe, Russ." I could not. I nodded but did nothing.

I had to tell him. I could wait no longer.

He looked me over and put his hand to my face and raised my chin. I met his eyes. He saw whatever was there and took it in and said, "what are you afraid of, beloved?'

"I must tell you two or three things before I can be at ease with you this night." I trembled as I said it. His eyes showed concern and a gentleness that made the rest easier than I had imagined. He drew me to him and let me speak.

"Our engagement was brief to say the least, dear husband, and I did not tell you all that a man should rightly know about his wife. I want to do that now."

"There have never been secrets between us in the other parts of our lives. There need not be any here either. Don't be afraid to tell me anything."

"The first is probably obvious to you, or will be, I am a virgin. I am not totally inexperienced in these matters. I did, briefly, engage in a bit of experimenting with one persistent suitor, but I was simply not interested enough in the young man to continue the experiment." He smiled, kissed me and said,

"I really didn't know your status in that department and did not think it proper to ask. I am, of course, more than acquainted with these things and am delighted and honored to lead the way. You tell me, at any time, if you are uncomfortable and I will stop. And, do not be embarrassed. There is nothing finer than the physical love between a man and a woman who truly love one another, or so I've heard. I am looking forward to those discoveries myself. What is the other thing you wish to tell me?"

I simply said it and did not hold back as I thought I might. "I cannot, in all likelihood, bear children. The accident that killed my family crushed my pelvis. The doctors assured me I had healed well but told me, as did my psychiatrist, Dr. Ginsberg, that I would probably never have a family of my own. The damage was just too extensive. I hope this doesn't disappoint you. I would do anything for you, including have your children, but it is beyond my power to do so. I should have said this sooner."

"Russell!" he looked at me and then pulled me close. "Good God, you thought I would not love you because of this?"

"And," I continued, "I feel I should warn you that my shoulder is not a nice thing to see. You have not seen it in some time and I have to tell you it did not heal well. When I take off this lovely robe, your vision of a beautiful woman might not survive."

I stopped and breathed into him. It was done. I had said my piece. Now he knew all there was to know. What he did next was totally unexpected: he lifted me up and carried me to the bed. I felt the weight swept out from under me in both the lightening of my heart and in the sense that I was held by powerful arms.

He lay me gently down on the edge and then went down on his knees beside me on the floor. With his hands on me knees, he said,

"Russell, dearest, you must think me a shallow and a rough man to have worried about any of this. I am glad you unburdened yourself but please understand that none of it matters one whit to me. All that matters is you."

With this said, he proceeded to take the robe off of me and to kiss each and every one of the twisted scars. It felt more akin to the divine healing I witnessed with Margery Childe than anything else I have ever known. I responded with tears.

"I know what kind of man you are. I just did not understand what sort of woman I am. Now I think I do; blessed." As I said this my hands went to him and he came to me for the first time as more than my mentor, my world, my family, he came to me as Lover. And that is not an experience I could possibly put into words.