Aylia Holmes

14. The Man in the Brown Bowler Hat

"No one on the trains, no one on the boats, no one anywhere. Of course, it doesn't help that England's suddenly consumed by this ridiculous marquess," Mycroft sighed, taking his seat in the armchair near Sherlock in their club. "The girl has simply vanished, and now, Aylia has gone missing."

"What?" Sherlock said in surprise, lowering his paper and looking at his brother in concern.

"I just got back from Uncle Archibald's," Mycroft explained wearily. "Sherry, please," he added to the waiter. "She left a note telling them not to worry about her and then simply disappeared into thin air. No one knows where she has gone. What is it with the women in this family?"

"I'm sure the three of them will turn up," Sherlock replied, not looking up from his paper, but his mind was whirling. "I'll find them, Mycroft."

"No, no," Mycroft countered. "Your job, I made clear, is finding Mother. I will find our sisters."

"Oh, please, Mycroft," Sherlock said irritably. "Aylie and Enola could outwit you in their sleep. You have no chance."

Releasing a sharp exhale, Mycroft said, "You never cared about them before."

"Enola is sixteen," Sherlock replied. "And Aylie...we failed her, Mycroft, repeatedly. I won't fail either of them again."

Mycroft sighed before asking, "You haven't given our name in the search for her?"

"Of course not," Sherlock replied. "I don't want anyone knowing our business any more than you do."

"Oh, don't worry, little brother," Mycroft said. "She may have escaped us for now, but I have the best police officers in London looking for them both. They will find them and bring them both back to us."

"And what are you going to do to Aylie if you find her?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft sighed, hesitated a moment before saying, "If she doesn't marry soon, no one will marry her. I have a friend who is looking for a wife."

"You can't be serious," Sherlock retorted, setting aside the paper and leaning forward. "She is our sister, Mycroft, not some cattle for you to chart around. She is only two and twenty, hardly a spinster, and regardless, if she does not wish to marry, we should respect that."

"There you go with your judgement again," Mycroft sighed irritably.

"Yes, Mycroft, I am judging you," Sherlock retorted in a low voice. "I understand that you are doing what you think is best for this family, but have you ever thought that perhaps this is exactly why she ran away?"

Mycroft remained silent, turning the page of the paper. Releasing an irritable sigh, Sherlock leaned back, pressing his fist against his lips in thought.

.

It took Aylia a quarter of an hour to arrange for some comfortable rooms with a lodging house at only a few pounds a month. This settled, she sat down and began to think hard about where to look for Enola.

She knew or at least could guess, that her little sister was looking for their mother, but she had little more idea about where to look for their mother than she did Enola.

At long last, she decided that the easier target was Louis Tewksbury himself. Assuming they had stuck together after their arrival, he would likely either be able to find her or know some of where she could be, but where could he be?

After sitting in thought, pondering all the possibilities, Aylia finally decided to take her wandering outside. Once on the streets of London, she began her thinking again, not particularly paying attention to where she was going.

As she passed the docks, however, a sudden clanging sound stopped her in her tracks. Frowning, she stepped forward, cautiously peaking around the corner to see a tall man thrown to the ground as another, older gentleman strode forward, a violent rage clear in his expression.

The younger man rolled over onto his stomach, coughing up blood before forcing himself to his feet just before another punch sent him sprawling on the ground. Aylia sighed, realizing irritably that the young man was none other than Elwin.

Rolling her eyes, she called, "Some might think it improper manners, sir, to attack and throw people out of trains before a proper introduction."

Elwin looked up in surprise, but the man in the brown bowler hat did not hesitate. Without a word, he sprang forward, launching a punch towards Aylia. Again rolling her eyes, she pushed his fist away from her, causing the force of his momentum to throw him off balance before a shot between his legs sent him face-first to the ground. Twisting his arm behind his back, Aylia held him in place with a single heeled shoe on his back.

"Now, that really is no way to start a conversation," she remarked as Elwin got to his feet, looking between her and Bowler Hat in surprise. "Where is the marquis?"

"Do you think if I knew that I'd be here?" Bowler Hat snapped.

"Fine," Aylia said, just barely twisting his arm farther. He winced. "Have you seen the girl? The girl who was with the marques on the train?"

He said nothing. Rolling her eyes, Aylia pressed on his wrist, straining the ligaments as she pushed almost to the point where it would break.

"Yes! Yes, I saw her!" he cried.

Aylia released the pressure on his wrist as she asked, "Where and when?"

"Two days ago at Lime House lane," he cried gruffly.

"Much obliged," Aylia said. "Mr Tewksbury, if you could call the police, we may finally see the end of this-"

Before she could finish her statement, a cry left her lips as Bowler Hat quickly twisted, contorting his body around with the twist of his arm and rolling onto his stomach. Without a moment's warning, he sent his feet straight into her stomach. She was flung back, knocking her head against the brick wall behind her as Elwin too was knocked back. Before either had recovered themselves, he was gone.