Lavender Haze

Chapter Nine

The ride to the family home was, for the most part, silent.

"So, Miss Williams," Mycroft spoke.

"Mycroft," I replied.

"Are you married yet?" He asked plainly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you married? It's a simple question."

"No... I just got out of finishing school..."

"Surely you have a lot of suitors then?" he continued.

"No, Mycroft, I have no suitors and I don't plan on having any at all," I finished as the carriage came to a stop.

Pushing my way out of the carriage, I was met by Mrs. Lane. "Rose darling!" She brought me in for a hug that I accepted briefly. Thankfully, she understood and smiled, nodding and squeezing my hand, assuring me I'd be okay.

Mrs. Lane has always understood me. Mycroft, however, has always tried to control me as if I were his ward. I didn't need my father and Mycroft both down my neck about marriage, which I clearly do not want. I stopped at the entryway of the library and memories of growing up in these halls flooded back. Memories of Enola and I learning how to fight, Mycroft and I constantly arguing, and Sherlock... I found my breath quickening, and my eyes wandered, landing on the piano. Walking over, my hand sweeping over the keys, I remembered Sherlock teaching me to play, our hands grazing each other's.

"Do you still remember how to play?"

Shaking from my thoughts, I looked up to see Sherlock standing in the doorway.

"Of course," I smiled. "Just haven't played in a long time."

"Maybe we can play later," he said before offering me his hand, and we headed towards Eudoria's bedroom.

Mycroft was already looking in her desk.

"What is this?" He questioned, holding up a racket.

"Tennis?" I replied.

Mycroft looked at me annoyed and then back to Enola.

"Mother says I'm getting quite proficient," she stated plainly.

Mycroft turned and looked at the wall with check marks and sighed. "Where the hell is she?"

"Her bed hasn't been made," groaned Mycroft.

"Clothes haven't been put away," he continued, putting his hands on his hips.

"Hmmm, chrysanthemums," Sherlock muttered, stopping at the center table of the bedroom.

"And laurustinus, and Queen Anne's lace," I added, barely touching the flowers as the petals just fell off. I had a feeling she wasn't planning on coming back, but when I looked at Enola, I couldn't bear to tell her. Besides, it was only a hunch.

__________

Night had fallen. Enola had taken to her room for the night, the boys were in the pool room, and I had taken to the study.

I had curled up in the window seat reading "Pride and Prejudice."

Looking up from the book, the candlestick caught my eye. I soon found myself watching the wax drip down slowly, and my eyes started to drift. I tried to force myself to stay awake, but it was no use. Sleep was winning over.

__________

"Rose," someone whispered.

My eyes fluttered open, seeing Sherlock smiling.

"You should be in bed," he said.

All I could get out was a groan. I was surprisingly comfortable where I was, but he disagreed.

I was lifted up bridal style, and I laid my head on his chest, slowly falling back to sleep in his arms as he carried me upstairs to bed.

Laying me down gently, I felt the covers over me as he tucked me in, and he gently kissed my forehead.

"I love you," he whispered.

Little did I know that was the last time he'd say that to me.