The Lazarus Machine

Chapter 11

Despite a sleepless night, John woke early with unusual energy.   Perhaps he was just anxious to see what would come out of Sherlock Holmes' mouth today, but John slid out of bed as soon as he jerked the bell pull.  His bad leg almost crumpled as he tucked his feet into slippers and wrapped his thick dressing gown about himself.

The maid who answered seemed surprised to see him shuffling about already.  She set his tea tray by the fireplace and stirred up the coals.

"I'll take my tea here, but I'll be breakfasting downstairs today, Abby."

"Oh, yes, sir," she said about his change of plans.  Captain Watson always broke his fast in his rooms; but of course, there was company, and when there wasn't, Sir Harold rarely showed his face until midday so there was little point.  "I'll let Mrs. Richardson know."  She bobbed a little curtsy and dashed out the door.

Moments later, without being summoned, the butler Meade rapped at the door.  He'd been helping John and Sir Harold dress since there was no one else anymore.  John thought momentarily about tipping the staff generously with the wedding purse for all they'd put up with in the past months, years, probably, and their loyalty.  He couldn’t even imagine how much would be enough.

Lord Sherrinford – John would have to ask him to provide the traditional purse for the staff and villagers.  Harry likely wouldn't have the funds yet and wouldn’t think to ask.

John forced himself to pace back and forth in his room despite the pain in his leg.  It was always worst at night.  The cramps and spasms would wake him if the nightmares hadn't already.  Sometimes he spent an hour or more hobbling back and forth in the dark before the pain eased enough for him to lie back down.

Meade made short work of dressing John for the morning, once John had decided what he wanted to wear.  And maybe Meade smiled just a bit too much at John's consideration of his appearance.  In the end, he chose a dark blue waistcoat under a light brown jacket with buff breeches.  Meade fussed a little with his cravat before making sure John found his way steadily enough down the stairs.

Lord Sherrinford and Harry were already dining, though Harry didn't seem to be enjoying his toast and tea.  There was much of importance to be discussed yet, despite Lord Sherrinford's innocuous and pleasant conversation.

John was seated, bid the two good morning, and received his customary plate.  Sherlock breezed in when his meal was half over.

"Good morning, Sherlock," John ventured, only to be rewarded with a bright smile.

"Good morning, John," was the hearty response.

If John had spared a glance for Lord Sherrinford, he would have noticed quite a peculiar expression on the man's face.  Sherlock tucked into his egg and toast without being urged, further annoying his brother with the normalcy of it.

"Did you see the grounds sufficiently yesterday, Sherlock, or would you like a proper tour?  Of course, Lord Sherrinford, you are welcome as well."  To see what you are buying with all that money, John added to himself.  But really, how could he be churlish and bitter about the Watson's rescue?

"Mycroft won't come along, John.  It may require exercise," Sherlock scoffed.  Lord Sherrinford ignored his brother and replied smoothly.

"I fear your brother and I have too many details to discuss regarding the marriage contracts, Captain Watson.  We may well be closeted in the study the entire day.  Thinking of all the work to be done wouldn't allow me to properly enjoy a countryside jaunt, but thank you."

Harry just looked miserable, and John was a bit glad of that.

"I, on the other hand, am dreadfully bored.  Let's go."  Sherlock jumped up from the table, stuffing the last of his toast into his mouth.