Royalty

Chapter 17: Brilliant Impression Of An Idiot

(A/N: So, I do leave for camp tomorrow. I wanted to get this out before I left, though I'm only gone a little less than a week. Once again, I'm sorry about that longer wait than expected on that last chapter. Hope everyone's doing alright, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!)

"See, I only got out of high school a few years ago. I want to be a teacher. I'm taking classes for my degree. I've had to take some teaching assistant classes, obviously, but, about two months ago, I was offered a job. As, well, a governess."

"Well, that's a tad old-fashioned," I commented, handing her a mug of tea. She nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"True. I suppose it's closer to a private tutor position. It's a rich family, they have other servants. They wanted me to tutor their -- well, frankly, their little rat of a child. He's only about seven, but he's a terror already."

"You took the position then?" Sherlock asked.

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "I would have thought that much was obvious. Yes, I took the position."

"On what grounds?"

"... I'm sorry?"

"What reasons did you have for taking the job, and what were their conditions or reasons for offering it?"

"Well, I don't have much money, and they were willing to pay quite a bit. They didn't really have many conditions. Just that I listen to orders, do what they asked me to. I didn't see a problem with it."

Sherlock thought for a moment. "...Continue."

Violet flushed slightly and tried to defend her decision. "They seemed nice enough, the husband in particular was quite funny, and the wife was ... well, a little quiet, but polite, and helpful! They seemed perfectly normal and kind, especially with the salary they were offering."

Sherlock's eyes scanned her up and down just as I had. I noticed her eye flick over to me as he did this. Perhaps she'd recognized the similarity, as well. She seemed like a smart woman.

He sighed. "I can assure you, I am not judging you on your choice of appointment. At least, not at present. About the husband and the wife, what do you remember, specifically, about them? I assume they called a number to meet you?"

She nodded. "They're both in their early forties, I would guess. The husband, Mr. Rucastle, seems very well-off. He was wearing a very nice Westwood suit with his older brown overcoat. Nice shoes, too, and they looked brand-new. I remember wondering if he'd recently gotten his paycheck or something of the sort. Red hair, combed back neatly."

A corner of Sherlock's mouth quirked up. He, too, was recognizing that she was more observant than most. Not as much as him, or me, but better than most. "And the wife?" he asked.

She seemed to relax slightly, seeing the small smile. "Well, as I said, somewhat quiet. But still polite. She had on a nice purple dress, again looking new. Her hair was done up nicely, and she had makeup on, too. Her hair was also red. Her nails, though, well, they were a tad chipped. Well, more than a tad."

Sherlock nodded slowly. "Fine, good. Now, what specifically brings you here? I doubt getting a good job warrants a visit to the world's only consulting detective."

She took a breath. "It was what happened after I took the appointment. They continued to be nice to me, very polite. I've taken a room in their rather large house. I act as a sort of caretaker slash teacher for their little boy, William."

Sherlock blinked. "And what is he like?"

She seemed somewhat surprised by the question. "Well ... quite honestly, he's a little monster. Kills about any bug or thing he can find, always leaving mess everywhere, and won't listen unless I give him sugar." She sighed, for the first time looking a little frustrated. "He's quite bright, but until I get him to listen properly -- Anyway, he's the least of my worries, quite honestly, and not important to the story."