The Only Exception,' Holmesbury

Prologue

"Do you intend to stay up there?" Enola heard her brother Sherlock say and ask from below her as she sat on a tree.

"I was hoping for some privacy..." Enola muttered and continued to draw.

"You know, last I remember of you, you were quite of timid little thing." Sherlock said, remembering a certain memory of his little sister, years ago.

"You had a pinecone wrapped in wool, dragged it with you wherever you went, calling it dash." Sherlock laughed at the last part.

"Someone told you that Queen Victoria had a cavalier King charles spaniel called dash, and you decided, you wanted the same." Sherlock smiled at the memory.

Enola hid her sketchpad away and started to climb down the tree.

"And we could never persuade you to put any trousers on."

Enola gasped and turned her head to look at Sherlock with a shocked and offended look on her face.

"Your bottom was always bare." Sherlock laughed.

"I think that's all the memory's I have..."

"Thank you." Enola mumbled as Sherlock looked up at her. "If you could now forget them all."

"A pinecone ? Called dash? That sounds ridiculous!" Enola scrunched her face up.

"Father used to chase you all about the place shouting get that damn dog out of my house!'"Sherlock laughed and Enola couldn't help but laugh too.

"Why did you never visit—"

"Enola? Enola are you listening to me?." Tewkesbury waved his hand in front of Enola.

Enola snapped out of her day dream.

"What? What?" Enola's eyes fluttered open.

"Enola are you alright?" Tewkesbury asked, concerned, and cupped her cheeks.

Enola nodded. "Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm alright." Enola put on a fake smile.

Tewkesbury tilted his head slightly at her. Knowing she was lying.

He grabbed her hands gently before kissing them both.

"What's going on, my love?" Tewkesbury asked, ever so softly.

Enola sighed.

"It's really nothing, just something on my mind." Enola said.

"Hey, don't you have to leave to go to the lords?." Enola shifted the subject.

Tewkesbury groaned. "Fine, but we're talking about this again." He pointed his finger at her, kissing her cheek gently before grabbing his coat.

Enola scoffed but smiled slightly when his lips made contact with her cheek.

Tewkesbury opened her door and smiled at Enola warmly.

"Goodbye, lovely." He smiled.

"Goodbye, nincompoop." Enola said teasingly.

He shook is head before walking out.

Enola let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

She brought her hands to her face and groaned.

She just wanted to know more about him.

She doesn't even remember him.

All the memories she has of him are blurry and she can hardly remember it anyways.

The young girl did not have a lot of time with her father, him dying when she was just three.

She wondered what he was like.

'Was he like mother? Strong? Independent?'

'Was he more like Sherlock? Smart? Sophisticated?'

'Or was he more like... well Mycroft?'

She couldn't even tell you what he looked like.

All she would tell you was 'tall, he had a mustache and weird wrinkles'

She never wanted to ask her mother about her father. Fearing that she would either feel sad about the reminder that her husband died, or that she was asking questions because her daughter didn't think she was good enough to raise her on her own.

But Enola so badly wanted to know more about her late father.

She deserved to know. Right?

So Enola had taken a break off of her cases, to start her own.

She was going to find out more about her father, how he died.