The Lazarus Machine

Chapter 7

Lord Mycroft Holmes, Viscount Sherrinford entered the sitting room where John was taking tea alone.  Sir Harold was still in his study, trying to make up for being passably sober all day.  Going through all the financial statements from the estate was proving to be a grueling job, and worse to come were the statements of debt.  Lord Sherrinford figured they could both use the break.

Sherlock, having grown bored with the finer details of negotiation, had been wandering around the house and grounds for two hours now.  Lord Sherrinford hoped he'd make it back before dinner.  Or next Michaelmas, knowing Sherlock.

When Lord Sherrinford entered the room, John leaned heavily on his cane to stand.

"Oh, no need to stand for me, Captain Watson, as we are soon to be family."

"I prefer not to be coddled, Lord Sherrinford." 

He allowed John to make him a stiff bow.  "May I sit with you, Captain Watson?"

"Of course.  Tea?"  John lowered himself back into his chair, resting his cane against the arm and stretching out his stiff leg in front of him.

John wasn't sure if Lord Sherrinford would view their shabby furniture as distasteful, but the elegant man sat down looking like he owned the place.  For all the money Lord Sherrinford was expending in the marriage contract, it would be foolish for John to deny that, in essence, he did.

"I do hope Mr. Holmes has not gotten lost on the grounds."

"Don't worry yourself, Captain Watson.  Sherlock does not get lost, even when you really try."

The maid in the corner moved to pour Lord Sherrinford a cup of tea.  If John had not received the tray only a few minutes before, he would have ordered a fresh pot.  Either way, though, it was unlikely their tea would be as exotic as the tea served at the Holmes' estate.  Of course, Lord Sherrinford was too much of a diplomat to complain.  Maybe John wanted his future brother-in-law to complain.  Sherlock would have let his displeasure be known.  He was nothing if not completely, blatantly, forthright.

Lord Sherrinford, however, was untrustworthy, in John's opinion.  He had the way about him of a man used to total control.  This was not uncommon among the aristocracy; however, it was typically illusion.  If the monarchy was in a state of more disarray, Lord Sherrinford, for all he admitted to "dabbling in the House of Lords," would have been called king-maker.  As it was, he had the ear of the Regent and an ingratiating smile for everyone else.

"I wanted to speak privately to you, Captain Watson."  And there was that soulless smile.

John met the other man's eyes quite directly.  They were piercing and judgmental, and in no way friendly.

"You see, our parents died when Sherlock was very young.  I was barely of age to inherit the estate and I did not give Sherlock the discipline he needed.  I allowed him to have too much sway over his schedule and his tutors, and once he'd gone off to school, I barely saw him.

"I wasn't quite sure what to do with him.  Not the army or navy, like many second sons.  It was quite clear from the reports sent back from school that he would not thrive in such disciplined settings.  He excelled at the studies which interested him, but his impiety made him eminently unsuitable for the church.

"I've become resigned to the fact that Sherlock will receive his income from me.  At least it grants me some control over his rashness.  But I cannot be there for him all the time.  I cannot watch him all the hours of the day.  And I assure you, Captain Watson, I worry about my brother.  Constantly."

"So, a husband."

"Yes, Captain Watson.  A husband.  Preferably a husband with strong character to exert some influence over my brother's… shall we say… impetuous tendencies.  A husband, Captain Watson, who is very aware from whence his income derives."

John tensed at this.

"You wish to pay me to spy on your brother."

"Spy is such a loaded term, Captain Watson.  I prefer to say that I am entrusting the care of my very precious brother to you, and I am extending you a comfortable living so long as Sherlock stays safe."

"Yet you do intend for me to report back to you."

"A bit of familial mail would not be unwelcome."

John could not resist the need to snort at this.

"Lord Sherrinford," he started as diplomatically as possible, "duty has made it known that I will be Sherlock's partner for life.  I will guard him as I would any choice in spouse; with my life, if necessary.  I will do my best to fulfill my promise to honor and cherish him, as one should.  But I will not report back to you as if you were my commanding officer.  Sherlock does not deserve that subterfuge from a husband, even an arranged one."

Lord Sherrinford's eyes hardened to cool blue-gray granite.

"Very noble, Captain Watson.  Perhaps I've chosen for Sherlock a better man than I thought if you are so loyal after only a few hours of acquaintance."

John didn't reply.  He stared stonily and rather impolitely at the man until Lord Sherrinford stood.

"I have much correspondence that needs attending to before supper.  If you'll excuse me."

John briskly nodded his head, but this time he did not rise.

Lord Sherrinford noticed.