A Marriage of True Minds: Part I

by Vestige of Femininity

The events surrounding the death of Claude Franklin/Calvin Franich/Claude de Finetti and whatever else he called himself, served to make me heartily tired of the great cesspool of London and I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from it as I could, as fast as I could. I did not want to be reminded of what that man had taken from me in that dank cellar in Essex. I did not want to think of the murdered women and their families or of Margery Childe and her Temple followers or of anything else for that matter. I wanted for both Holmes and I to simply slip away to the cottage in Sussex and think about the only interesting distraction of the whole affair - Holmes' marriage proposal (if the negotiations that had transacted there on that dock could be called that).

However, despite my impatience to be away, there were many loose ends that had to be seen to, not the least of which were Holmes' (mostly superficial, thank God) wounds. Next came a good few hours closeted with Lestrade and his colleagues answering interminable questions that I suppose one could only expect from such a violent series of events. Then we made our way back to the flat in Bloomsbury to get Holmes a much needed bath. The Quimbys of course were astonished to see Holmes' condition but refrained from openly asking direct questions. I'm afraid we rather shamelessly took advantage of their good manners and did not enlighten them. Mycroft, of course, was not so reticent. Having heard through his sources at Scotland Yard of our misadventure that day and having had his finger in this case of ours from early on, he quite naturally was anxious to hear all the details of its end. Holmes, shouting down the telephone, managed to put him off with promises to return soon for dinner and give him a first hand account of all that had transpired that day. Finally, as the sun was setting, we took our exhausted selves off to the quiet of the Sussex Downs.

The week that then followed was indeed pleasantly distracting. We spent it enjoying each other's company in a completely different way than we had been previously accustomed. I thought at first that it would be awkward, that two people who were at first teacher and student and then friends and partners would take some time to know each other as lovers. But I was wrong in this regard. I can only attribute this to the fact that because Holmes and I knew each other so well in nearly all other aspects of each other's lives that knowing each other in the biblical sense seemed just a natural progression. And let it be said that, as in all things to which Holmes turned his attentions, he was scrupulously attentive to detail.

Although physical intimacy was an important part of that week, as it would be in any new such relationship, we also spent time on many walks and debates as was our usual custom. On one of these I brought up my increasing doubts about a formal marriage. I admit that not long before this week I would have assumed that if I ever planned on a long term intimate relationship with a man, I would get married in some conventional manner. However, having had some time to think about it, my feminist soul was having trouble with certain aspects of the whole idea. Marriage, as propounded by religious and civil authorities in our society is not a joining of equals. Females in the marriage contract are regarded as inferior beings in need of "protection" and indeed are regarded as the property of their husbands. The whole thing frankly was beginning to make me feel decidedly uneasy. And really, if a commitment is made on the part of a couple themselves then why should there be any need of a some stamp of approval in the form of a piece of paper from the church or state. I explained all these thoughts to Holmes with some trepidation. I was not certain how he would regard what I was proposing. After all, while I may be a product of the more progressive, post war generation, he, I had always felt, was a typical Victorian gentleman down to his bootstraps. I should have realised, however that Holmes could never be categorised as a "typical" anything. He said, "My dear Russell, if a formal marriage makes you feel uncomfortable for whatever reason, I see no need to pursue it," and added wryly, "It does seem rather absurd to hold the ceremony after the honeymoon, doesn't it?" So initially, we had not planned on participating in any observance to mark our union. However, we had not anticipated the resistance with which this would be met.

The week flew by without my really realising. I was only reminded of its passing when Mycroft called up rather impatiently asking us to dinner for his promised chronicle. We had driven up to London that afternoon and spent most of a delicious dinner giving Mycroft a more detailed account of the previous week than he would have already received from Scotland Yard. We had reached the dessert course when Holmes brought up the subject of our engagement. Mycroft was obviously delighted and with a wide smile he shook his brother's hand and kissed mine.

"This is cause for celebration! I am very glad. I can't say I am all that surprised for I have been expecting it for some time." This was news, since it had come as a complete surprise to me. However, before I could question him on it, he raised his wine glass and said, "A toast to you both! Many years of wedded bliss! So," he put his glass down, "do you have a date in mind?" At this point Holmes explained to him that we did not feel the need for society's blessing on our commitment to each other.

His fork had only made it half way to his mouth when he stopped and looked askance at Holmes and said, "Surely, you don't mean that you and Mary will...

He looked at me then and back again at Holmes. "That you will be-"

Holmes, by this time was looking amused. "Living in sin, I believe is the term you are searching for."

Mycroft put down his fork (always an ominous sign with Mycroft) and said, "For God's sake, Sherlock! I know of your proclivities for unconventionality, but to put Mary in such an untenable position is unconscionable!"

Holmes did not answer, but sat back and regarded his brother carefully. Since some reply seemed to be required, I patted Mycroft's hand to reassure him, "Really, Mycroft, there is no need to be concerned. It was actually my idea. The whole process of getting married seems rather archaic and somehow superfluous to me. If we happen to offend a few old fools and silly gossips, I really do not care."

Well, if I thought that this would somehow mollify him I was very wrong. The eyes in that doughy face were practically bulging as he said, "What if this 'old fool' is offended? What if it offends the people around you? What of your local people? I have no doubt that they have been indulgent with your situation as master and apprentice in the past because they knew and respected you, Holmes. And there was Mrs. Hudson to chaperone. But how do you think they will react to this new state of affairs? And what of Mrs. Hudson herself? How do you think she will react to this? Have you even considered what such a lifestyle would do to your work at Oxford? If you think that you can go about your business as usual in a climate of public scorn and scandal, I believe you are gravely mistaken."

It was my turn to look shocked. Indeed, Holmes himself was looking at his brother with one eyebrow raised higher than I have ever seen it. After perhaps three seconds of silence, Holmes said in wonder, "You know, Mycroft, I don't believe I have ever seen you this upset."

He replied with some rancour, "Well I am upset! And I can't believe that you two would not consider how this would affect the people closest to you."

We listened to a lot more along these lines during coffee and brandy. He went into some detail as to what we should expect legally and financially should we choose not to make things official. But these facts (which we had indeed discussed) were overshadowed by his obvious repugnance for the "common-law" state. We were uncharacteristically silent during most of it. I know I was stunned into silence because he was right in that I had not thought how our living together might affect those around us. The people in the village were very tolerant of Holmes and his apprentice. In fact, it had become an amusing communal conspiracy among them to ignore our strange comings and goings at all hours and in all manner of dress. Until this night I had assumed that such indulgence would always be the case. And I had not even considered the possibility that this would be an impediment to my academic career. Mycroft was probably right. Such a bohemian lifestyle might be a little much for most people to understand. I don't think any of these concerns were going through Holmes' mind. I think rather for him it was sheer astonishment at seeing his brother get into such a lather over what he would consider a trifling matter.

Later that evening when Mycroft had retired, Holmes and I sat side by side on the settee in his front room. I was bent forward with my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands staring into the fire. Holmes was stretched out to his full length, his head bent forward, his eyes hooded and his lips resting on his steepled index fingers. I was the first to break the silence. "He does have a point, you know." There was no need for any preamble to this since it was obvious what we were both preoccupied with the same thoughts. Holmes rose and retrieved his clay pipe and tobacco from the mantel of the fireplace.

"Yes, I suppose he does," he replied evenly as he stuffed tobacco in the pipe bowl. "Even if that outburst was motivated by an underlying prudishness that I never knew existed before tonight, he has given us some food for thought."

Ignoring the food metaphor with regard to Mycroft, I said, "Well, I am not sure about the prudishness, but I think he is genuinely concerned for us. And he is right about Mrs. Hudson. She would be very upset, I realize that now. So much so that she may not want to stay in your employ." I looked at him for his reaction to this. He inclined his head in somewhat ruefull confirmation. "And you know, above all, I couldn't knowingly hurt that dear woman." I sat back on the settee and crossed my arms, "Then of course, there is Uncle John to consider. What do you think would be his reaction?"

He shook his head as he lit the pipe, "I don't think it would be as strong a reaction as Mycroft's," he puffed on the pipe to make it draw, then said sardonically, "but no doubt he would offer us the standard 'public scorn and scandal' lecture." He puffed his pipe into life and continued, "However, Russell, the point for which I am most concerned would be for your fledgling career. While I have reached a point in my career where, unlike Mycroft, I could care less about scandal, you on the other hand are at the beginning of yours and I think it would be foolish to do anything to jeopardise it."

"Yes, there is that," I sighed in resignation, "I'm afraid there's nothing for it but to come up with some sort of ceremony to please our kith and kin."

"Yes, I believe it will be the best course of action. We shall have to resign ourselves to some sort of observance to keep everyone 'happy.'" The last word was emphasised with sarcasm. "But, be advised, Russell," his voice darkened in warning, "I will not be part of some lavish ceremony with a lot of pomp and circumstance."

I looked at him in disgust and shuddered, "God, Holmes! Banish such nauseating thoughts from your mind!" I started to consider the options aloud."

"I prefer to keep it as low key as possible with just the required witnesses in attendance. I really cannot see us getting married in a church, or in a synagogue for that matter. So I presume it will have to be at the Register's Office." An appalling thought occurred to me, "But, be it either religious or secular rites, there are certain forms that I am loath to follow. For starters, I would like to make perfectly clear here and now that I have never, ever, sworn to 'obey' anyone, so I do not plan to start now." That brought forth an amused snort.

Another thought occurred to me, "And it has always irritated me that women are required to be marked as married by wearing a ring." I looked at him in some annoyance.

"My dear Russell," he said through his clenched pipe, "I see no reason why you should be branded in any way, shape or form." He removed the pipe from his mouth and shook his head in increasing irritation, "I frankly do not care what form this ceremony takes as long as we can get it over with soon. If this whole affair degenerates into some tiresome charade, I propose that we take ourselves off to a little Polynesian island I know, where for two chickens and a dozen cigarettes a native elder will bang our heads together and present us with a document proclaiming our wedded state that is legal and binding on three continents!"

I snorted at that. "Not a bad idea, Holmes, if a little violent. However, in the meantime, I will try to concoct something that I can live with and at the same time the law will allow. Do you think Mycroft could come up with a magistrate that is, shall we say, open minded and somewhat flexible?"

"I imagine Mycroft could provide us with all manner of personages."

I ruminated, "Yes, indeed. It will require some thought and a little planning." I drummed my fingers on the arm of the settee in the silence of the room.

He tapped out the contents of his pipe into the fireplace and held out his hand to me, "But not tonight. Come, it's late. We can discuss it in the morning."

As we walked to the sleeping wing of Mycroft's rooms I noticed that the guest room was made up and a day bed was laid out in the extra room as was the usual custom when we visited Holmes' brother. I raised my eyebrows pointedly at Holmes. He had not missed the implication either. With some vexation he said, "Yes, I know. We will have to sleep in different beds to appease the priggish sensibilities of my older brother." He shook his head and with a mock sigh he said, "And just when I was becoming accustomed to your warm presence. Now I shall have to go in search of a hot water bottle."

"Oh, yes?" I met his flippant tone with my own. I kissed him ardently. "There," I drew back, "see if your hot water bottle can do that. Good night, Holmes," I said matter of factly and slipped into the guest room and closed the door.

Through the door I heard him grumbling mightily, something about the hypocrisy of English society, as he made his way to the spare room and a cold cot.

Since it was only fair that the witnesses to this proposed ceremony have some advance knowledge of the event, I placed two phone calls the next morning. Mrs. Hudson had been at her sister's residence for the past two weeks and this is where I telephoned and advised her of our engagement. The sweet lady practically came through the telephone, her happiness and excitement were that evident. I told her of our plans for a small and quiet ceremony here in London and asked her if it was not too inconvenient, if she would do us the honour of attending as one of the witnesses. She was thrilled and replied with a laugh, "My dear child, to see Sherlock Holmes marry I would walk to London. To see him marry you, I shall skip all the way there!" Since I wasn't quite sure how to reply to this, I rang off with promises to call again when arrangements were more firm."

The other phone call was to invite Watson to lunch at Mycroft's to tell him the news and request his services (one of the few times I thought, where in service to Holmes, he would not be required to bring his revolver). Although he was obviously happy, he also did not seem all that surprised. Very curious. Was there some sort of announcement that he and Mycroft had heard and I had missed? Uncle John hugged and kissed me excitedly. He then turned his enthusiasm on Holmes and pumped his hand with exuberance, "Congratulations! Who would ever have believed we would see this day, Holmes!"

"Indeed, Watson." Holmes replied as he extracted his hand and flexed the fingers in some discomfort. "It will no doubt cause some stir among your readers."

"And of course the press will probaby make something of it as well!" Watson added.

"Good God, I hadn't thought of that, Holmes," I thought with some alarm, "I told Mrs. Hudson of our plans on the phone this morning. By now the exchange operator will have spread the news all over the village."

"I wouldn?t concern myself too much, Russell. It has been my experience that these things have a way of becoming known despite best efforts to the contrary," he was looking pointedly at Watson.

"You needn't look at me in that way Holmes!" said Watson indignantly.

After a delicious luncheon (Mycroft seemed to employ the most wonderful chefs) we sat comfortably in the front room with our coffee. Holmes set about perusing the day's papers, I assumed for any news of the previous week's events. To any other guest this probably would have seemed incredibly rude. But to Watson, who was more than used to Holmes? habits, this was perfectly normal behaviour.

"Are you planning on a honeymoon?" Uncle John asked me. An amused smile flitted across Holmes' lips as he continued to read his paper.

I kept my features neutral as I looked at Uncle John's questioning countenance, "We really hadn't got that far in our planning. We are still working on the wedding itself. I have spent this morning trying to come up with a suitable rite to mark the occasion. It has not been easy and Holmes has been no help whatsoever." I regarded him over my coffee cup.

Without looking up he said, "As I have already explained Russell, I will accept whatever you devise as long as it is simple and over with soon."

"For heaven's sake Holmes! A girl only marries once. Let her have her day!" Watson admonished his friend.

I interrupted with a laugh, "It's quite alright, Uncle John. I never even - " Holmes shot me a warning look. He was probably right. Like Mycroft, Uncle John would be shocked to think that I would even consider such a bohemian lifestyle. I finished with, "I feel much the same. I have no wish for a lot of frills and flowers. It will not be a religious service. It will be a small civil one with a few changes to the usual phraseology. It will be simple and short and maybe afterwards we can all go to a restaurant for a good meal."

"That sounds eminently suitable," was Holmes' only reply, as he flipped through another paper.

"What about your friends and colleagues at Oxford? Aren't you inviting them as well?" Watson seemed surprised. "I know from my own marriage that some people become highly insulted if they are not included in the wedding. You may lose a few friends."

"Yes, I had thought of that, Uncle John. I plan to tell them that it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. A secret elopement, if you will, which is not too far from the truth."

After we saw Watson out with promises to contact him once we had all the arrangements in place, we sat shoulder to shoulder again on the settee. Holmes lit his pipe and said, "Well, Russell, I know that this past week has been something by way of a honeymoon. However, as Watson has reminded me, I have not been terribly sensitive about this whole affair. So I should like to ask, by way of atoning for my sins, would you like to go abroad for a honeymoon or whatever you want to call it?"

A generous offer for Holmes, I thought. "Well, Holmes, although I have much work that needs doing," I was thinking about my interrupted academic plans for this month, "I have to admit that the thought of a holiday has some interest for me right now. But where would we go?"

"Well, there?s always that villa of yours in Tuscany. It might be amusing to spend a few weeks there."

"What would we do with all that time in -?" His head slowly rotated in my direction as his eyebrows rose.

I think I may have actually blushed a little as understanding hit. "Oh, for heaven's sake Holmes!" He shrugged, a little disappointedly I thought. An interesting idea was forming in my mind. "However," I smiled, "if brother Mycroft could come up with some little project for us in that part of the world it could be a rather entertaining few weeks, don't you agree?" Over the past few years I had come to appreciate Mycroft's little intelligence jobs.

He brightened and cocked his head, "Ah, a kind of Busman's honeymoon, you mean? I believe there may very well be some interesting activities afoot in the area that might require our services. Capital idea, Russell. I'll speak with Mycroft at dinner."

That bit of planning taken care of, I reluctantly took myself off to St Bart's to visit Margery Childe. Holmes set out for Scotland Yard to consult with Lestrade about the possible charges pending against her and the others involved in the case."

Dinner at Mycroft?s that night was quite a different affair from the previous evening. Once Mycroft knew that we were planning on making our union official he was obviously relieved and was back to his usual self. However, he did seem to be a little uncomfortable with his outburst and apologized to us for it.

Holmes said, "There's no need, Mycroft. You were quite right to give us your viewpoint." To avoid further embarassment to his brother he smoothly changed the subject to the honeymoon.

"We were considering going abroad for a while. Russell owns some property in Italy which she has not seen in some time and we were wondering if perhaps there may be something in the area that needs attending to while we are there."

Mycroft understood at once and did not seem to find it at all odd that doing 'intelligence' work on a honeymoon was in any way unusual. But then again, he was his brother's sibling. "Ah, yes. That would be most fortunate for his majesty's government," (by which of course he meant himself). "There have been many rumblings in that country of late that we would be most grateful to find out more about. The rise of this Facist movement is worrisome to us all." He regarded his soup, "Yes, a honeymooning couple might also provide a good cover for field work." His thought processes were obviously working at full speed. Then he resumed his meal, "I will check with my clerk to get more details and suitable contacts and get back to you tomorrow."

As the main course was being served, I mentioned to him about our decision to have a quiet, civil ceremony and asked, "I was wondering, Mycroft, if you could suggest a magistrate who might perform the ceremony -"

Tucking into the cornish hen with some relish, he interrupted before I could make my point. "I can think of several off-hand that would be very happy to do it - and discrete about it, I might add."

"Well, yes, as Watson reminded us, that is important also," I replied, "But what I would like to know is, if you knew of a magistrate who would be willing to forego certain wordings in the standard wedding vows that I find rather ...off-putting."

"Do not be fooled by her tendency for understatement, Mycroft," Holmes sardonic grin was visible through his wine glass. I ignored this comment for the jibe that it was, since we both knew that Mycroft was as perceptive as his younger brother.

He replied without further question, "Of course. I don't think that will be too difficult to arrange. I have a good friend who I'm sure would bend the ceremonial rules, as it were, as long as the main points are addressed." He spoke as if he was referring to some business transaction which, in a way, I suppose, it was.

We briefly discussed the issues of when and where to 'do the deed' as Holmes was starting to refer to it. The simplest choice for 'where' was at the magistrate's office and 'when' seemed to depend mostly on booking passage on a suitable ship as a honeymooning couple bound for Italy. Mycroft seemed to think that this could be accomplished with a telephone call or two from his office.

"By the way," Mycroft was speaking to me again, "there is something that I would like to give you, if you will have it. A sort of pre-wedding present, if you will." He wiped his lips and rose with some effort saying, "Excuse me, I'll just be a minute."

Well, to have Mycroft leave the table in the middle of a meal to exert himself thusly was more than a little astonishing to me. I sent a questioning frown at Holmes but only got an equally puzzled shrug in return. We did not get a chance to vocalise anything before Mycroft returned with a small, black velvet draw-string pouch in his hand. Almost imperceptibly Holmes stiffened and one eyebrow went up.

Mycroft sat down and proceeded to open the pouch to reveal black velvet ring box. My heart sank. I shot a look at Holmes. He was fussing with his napkin and looking everywhere he could think of to avoid catching my eye.

"This was our mother?s wedding ring," he said as he pried open the case to reveal a lovely plain, solid gold band, "I think it would be most appropriate if you were to have it." He smiled and gave me the box with the ring snugly tucked into its fold. I looked again at Holmes who was now furiously studying his fingernails.

"Mycroft," I began, "I'm... I'm overwhelmed," which was true, but not in quite the way that I was portraying. I received the box from his hands and said, "I would be honoured to accept this ring. It is really very sweet of you." And despite my mixed feelings, it was. I rose and kissed his cheek which brought forth a good bit of pink to his pale complexion.

Mycroft left us after dessert to go to his offices. Notwithstanding our protests that there was no hurry, he was anxious to speak with his people about our Italian excursion. I did not ask him why 'his people' would be working at this late hour. The workings of Mycroft's office were always a little mysterious to me, if not a little intimidating. I have found that it is best not to ask too many questions in this area.

Holmes and I were left sipping our coffee at the table. I did not trust myself to speak or even look again at him until I heard Mycroft's retreating footfalls on the stair. When it was obvious that we were alone, Holmes spoke up before I could let fly with any accusations.

"Before you start bristling at me, Russell, please be advised that I had no idea that Mycroft was planning on that little gesture. He never confided his intentions to me or I would have disabused him of the notion." He rose from the table and poured two snifters of brandy. Returning to his seat, he deposited one in my hand and regarded me with one arched eyebrow.

"I noticed that you did not actually promise him that you would wear it. And you don't have to, you know. I can speak with him. He will understand." He started to remove his pipe and tobacco from his jacket pocket. He, himself seemed somewhat bemused as he commented, "I think I am learning more about Mycroft in these past couple of days than I have in the last thirty years." He shook his head before he lit his pipe, "Most extraordinary."

I looked at my swirling brandy and thought to myself that I could not really get angry. I knew from Holmes' reaction when Mycroft came in the room that he could not have known Mycroft's intentions beforehand. The whole gesture felt spontaneous and I had to admit, really rather touching. It was always interesting and somehow comforting to be reminded that these two idiosyncratic brothers were actually born of woman. I laid down the snifter and opened the box again to examine the simple gold band. As I turned it over in my fingers, I wondered what sort of woman could be mother to a man like Holmes. I sighed and knew that I would have to wear this ring.

"You know, Holmes," I mused resignedly as I put the ring back in its resting place, "I have come to the conclusion that funerals and weddings are designed to please everyone except the principal participants."

He snorted and sipped his brandy, "Indeed, Russell. I believe you have hit the nail on the proverbial head." After some seconds of silence and some puffing he stated rather than asked, "Well, Russell."

"Well, Holmes."

He crossed his arms and regarded me with an amused smile, "Are you ready for that south pacific island yet?"

"Very nearly, Holmes," I nodded, sipping my brandy, "Very nearly."