My Dear Emma [Sherlock Holmes Romance]

Chapter Ten

Many were the congratulations of them whom Thomas and I passed on the streets. News of our engagement circulated London, spreading as far as the countryside. The papers were calling it the engagement of the century, not including the queen's marriage to Prince Albert. Preparations for the wedding were underway, and Mama was ecstatic. Papa and Mr. Holmes were working as partners again, even though Papa said, "Never again will I allow you to pull me into another one of your cases, Sherlock."

"How are you this evening, my love?" Thomas asked as we walked through park in the moonlight.

"Rather exhausted," I replied with a sigh. "Mama will not rest until the wedding details have been arranged properly. Do thank your father for the money to pay for everything. It was so thoughtful, though I do believe Papa would have managed on his own."

"I know my father felt obliged to do it," he said, meeting my gaze as we kept walking. "If you like, I can return you home, if you feel that you need rest."

"And miss the opportunity to be with you a little longer? Never; dear Thomas, you must know that I would never give in to such necessities. You love gives me the strength I need to remain at your side."

Thomas smiled softly, kissing me gently before moving on.

"My dear Emma," he went on, pausing in his path. "I know we need not worry about the subject until after we are wed, but I must ask. Do you want children?"

"Of course," I said, laughing softly. "I do not think I would wish otherwise. I believe our son would be as handsome as his father."

"And our daughter shall have her mother's beauty and caring nature."

I giggled, stepping away only for a moment to see the stars. Thomas came from behind me with a warm embrace. I did not want it to end. Suddenly, out of the shadows came four dark figures. There was little time to react. They knocked Thomas to the ground; I was bound hand and foot, dragged away into the darkness of the night.

~ * ~

I awoke to the sound of voices arguing. I knew not the language, though it resembled French in some ways. I sat up slowly; my hands were still bound. I must have hit my head the night before, because I felt a shock when I was sitting upright.

"You must simply let the girl go," I recognized the voice of the detective. "She is obviously not the one your war is against."

"Which is precisely why we have brought you here," another replied. "We knew you would not come otherwise. We will let the girl go, if you comply."

"Whatever gives you the idea that I would not choose to comply?" Mr. Holmes asked, chuckling uneasily. "Surely you know that the girl is offspring of my colleague, Dr. Watson, and she is to be married to my son. They have only just been engaged, why must you bring them into matters that do not concern them?"

"As previously mentioned, we knew you would not come otherwise."

I moved best I could towards the nearby wall, in hopes to look around it. Thomas' father stood ten feet away, with his back towards me. The two men standing with Mr. Holmes gave off a rather ere air. It seemed they had once encountered the known detective in a previous case, most likely finding themselves incarcerated as a result. Could this be their sense of revenge?

"Miss Watson!" the detective said, not turning around once. "If you can hear me, please know that I am negotiating with your captives for your release. If I am unable to bring you home within the next hour, Thomas will no longer have a bride."

"Bloody well thought, detective!" I called back, groaning with frustration. "Not exactly the best to say, is it?"

"Miss Watson, please keep in mind that I am a professional. Return to your hiding place, what is about to happen is not suitable for the eyes of a young woman."

Mr. Holmes looked at me then, raising an eyebrow, with an almost knowing look. I knew not to question him, and did what he instructed. Hidden behind the wall once again, I could hear grunts and things smashing on the floor.

"My dear Miss Watson," Mr. Holmes said, turning the corner and kneeling to the floor. "Please forgive my tardiness. The constable has just arrived to make the arrest. However, you, my dear, are free to return home. Thomas will be overjoyed to know that you are safe."

As he spoke, he freed my hands and helped me to my feet. Hunger from not eating a meal in many hours caused me to take support in holding the detective's shoulder as we exited the location of my captivity. Many reporters from the paper flocked about us as we made our way to a cab. Mr. Holmes hid both my face, to keep my identity from being compromised.

~ * ~

"Emma darling!" my mother said as I walked through the door. "Are you alright?"

"Mum," I said in relief as I hugged her. "Yes, I'm alright. Where's Thomas?"

"Right here," he replied, catching me in his arms the moment Mama and I broke apart. "Emma, my love, did they hurt you?"

"Thomas, I am quite all right," I smiled, kissing him softly on the cheek. "I hope you did not worry too much, because I for one was not entirely out of context."

"I must insist that Miss Watson is given something to eat," the detective said, leading the way to the dining room. "Heaven knows how long it has been since she has eaten."

Thomas shook his head; however, he smiled with amusement. Mama raised an eyebrow, as though she, too, knew what went through Mr. Holmes' mind. Papa stood from his breakfast, relief creased in his face. It was as if he had not slept all night.

"Papa," I said as we embraced.

"Forgive me, Emmaline," he said softly, looking at me. "I thought you would never experience kidnapping. I stopped working with Sherlock for that reason. I wanted to protect you and your mother from harm."

"It is not your fault," I replied, shaking my head. "I am alive and well. I do not feel angered at the present moment, and all I want is to just thank God that He allowed me to return safely."

Thomas smiled softly, nodding at everything I said. I could tell he was most worried of everyone. He sat beside me whilst I ate a hearty breakfast. Never had I ever been so hungry in my life. I was not afraid to eat, but of course, there were the matters of manners and etiquette. A young woman would be considered disgraceful should she lack any such manners.

"Quite the odd experience," I recounted, drinking my entire glass of water. "And Mr. Holmes, never have I ever heard you negotiate with such authority. I suppose such authority comes when on the job. I should like to see you at your best again, sometime."

I caught a glimpse of my mother's grimace.

"I do not think I agree," the detective said, shaking his head as he smoked his pipe. "You are a young lady, and the scene of a crime is no place for a lady. I believe Thomas wishes to take position as a doctor. A fair trade for one so bright, if I might say. My dear Watson, would you take him as your apprentice? Show Thomas the ways of the trade?"

My father looked at Mr. Holmes with amusement, and chuckled softly. The partnership they share is quite unraveling. One never knows what to expect.