Read Online Chronicles of the Lost Years (The Sherlock Holmes Series) by Tracy Cooper-Posey - Free Book Online
Authors: Tracy Cooper-Posey
Tags: Romance
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“No one would ever try to subdue you, Watson, for your reputation is well known and respected.” He laughed suddenly. “Though I pity the person who ever mistakes Elizabeth for a helpless woman.”
Later Elizabeth gave me her opinion on my story. “To me, I can feel you are holding something back. There is a reservation, a distancing, that was not there in your earlier works. But that’s the price I believe you must pay for not telling the whole truth.”
• Chapter Four • _________________________
•ï¡÷¡ï•
AS ELIZABETH PREDICTED, our old familiar partnership returned. I believe Holmes was secretly relieved I knew the truth of their relationship, for neither of us had to guard our tongues. Even so, I found I never referred to their relationship directly, taking Holmes’ reticence as my example. Usually I had no need to speak of it. Elizabeth was always there with us in spirit and sometimes in person.
Which recalls to my mind one brief night’s work down by the Thames, in which Elizabeth accompanied us. I had been instructed by Holmes on precisely where I was to meet him and I had arrived on time, to find the spot empty and the cold fog unrevealing. I stood for a few minutes, peering about and wondering what to do.
“Good of you to come, Watson,” Holmes said from behind me, making me start. I turned to see his tall shadow defined briefly in the dark swirls of fog.
“I wouldn’t dream of missing this.”
“It could be dangerous, you understand?”
“Perfectly.” I turned slightly at the sound of a boot step and held my breath as a shadowy muffled figure approached. I lifted up my lantern to identify the newcomer, but Holmes grasped my arm and pushed the lantern aside. I had, however, caught a brief glimpse of high cheekbones and green eyes under a low brim.
“Good evening, John, “ Elizabeth greeted me, in a low voice so quiet I barely heard it.
I looked at Holmes, and he answered my thoughts as he so often did. “I foresee I may need a third pair of capable hands tonight and completely trustworthy assistants are hard to come by.”
Elizabeth was studying me gravely, but there was amusement in her eyes. I understood that sparkle perfectly. Holmes had forgotten for a moment that the subject of his statement was a woman, one of the despised untrustworthy creatures of his contempt. It was a measure of his respect for Elizabeth that he did not notice the illogical sense of his assessment.
This double standard of Holmes’ fascinated me, as did every aspect of his personality. Before he had met Elizabeth, I would have supposed Holmes would remain unattached forever. His attitude toward women gave them very little chance to impress him with their better qualities, and his career brought him in contact with the worst of human kind, man and woman both, and that constant reminder did not help improve his opinion.
Curiously, his attitude did not change even after Elizabeth became part of his life. To Holmes, Elizabeth was utterly unique and completely above normal womanhood. I had direct proof of this double standard one day.
I had walked over the park to Baker Street late one night, for we were expecting a client after supper. I was a little early, a habit I had developed because I liked to catch Holmes and Elizabeth alone. Mrs. Hudson was just taking a supper tray up the stairs, and I stood back after tapping on Holmes’ door and opened it for her.
She entered the smoke filled room, stepping over the newspapers and files scattered about the sofa and I followed her in.
Holmes had his head buried in the latest scandal sheet, lying across the length of the sofa, his pipe jutting out. Elizabeth lounged in the opposite corner; her arms hugged about her drawn-up knees. She was watching the fire. At Mrs. Hudson’s appearance she scrambled upwards.
“Let me take that for you,” she said, taking the tray. “Hello, John,” she told me with a smile.
Mrs. Hudson nodded and puffed.
Later Elizabeth gave me her opinion on my story. “To me, I can feel you are holding something back. There is a reservation, a distancing, that was not there in your earlier works. But that’s the price I believe you must pay for not telling the whole truth.”
• Chapter Four • _________________________
•ï¡÷¡ï•
AS ELIZABETH PREDICTED, our old familiar partnership returned. I believe Holmes was secretly relieved I knew the truth of their relationship, for neither of us had to guard our tongues. Even so, I found I never referred to their relationship directly, taking Holmes’ reticence as my example. Usually I had no need to speak of it. Elizabeth was always there with us in spirit and sometimes in person.
Which recalls to my mind one brief night’s work down by the Thames, in which Elizabeth accompanied us. I had been instructed by Holmes on precisely where I was to meet him and I had arrived on time, to find the spot empty and the cold fog unrevealing. I stood for a few minutes, peering about and wondering what to do.
“Good of you to come, Watson,” Holmes said from behind me, making me start. I turned to see his tall shadow defined briefly in the dark swirls of fog.
“I wouldn’t dream of missing this.”
“It could be dangerous, you understand?”
“Perfectly.” I turned slightly at the sound of a boot step and held my breath as a shadowy muffled figure approached. I lifted up my lantern to identify the newcomer, but Holmes grasped my arm and pushed the lantern aside. I had, however, caught a brief glimpse of high cheekbones and green eyes under a low brim.
“Good evening, John, “ Elizabeth greeted me, in a low voice so quiet I barely heard it.
I looked at Holmes, and he answered my thoughts as he so often did. “I foresee I may need a third pair of capable hands tonight and completely trustworthy assistants are hard to come by.”
Elizabeth was studying me gravely, but there was amusement in her eyes. I understood that sparkle perfectly. Holmes had forgotten for a moment that the subject of his statement was a woman, one of the despised untrustworthy creatures of his contempt. It was a measure of his respect for Elizabeth that he did not notice the illogical sense of his assessment.
This double standard of Holmes’ fascinated me, as did every aspect of his personality. Before he had met Elizabeth, I would have supposed Holmes would remain unattached forever. His attitude toward women gave them very little chance to impress him with their better qualities, and his career brought him in contact with the worst of human kind, man and woman both, and that constant reminder did not help improve his opinion.
Curiously, his attitude did not change even after Elizabeth became part of his life. To Holmes, Elizabeth was utterly unique and completely above normal womanhood. I had direct proof of this double standard one day.
I had walked over the park to Baker Street late one night, for we were expecting a client after supper. I was a little early, a habit I had developed because I liked to catch Holmes and Elizabeth alone. Mrs. Hudson was just taking a supper tray up the stairs, and I stood back after tapping on Holmes’ door and opened it for her.
She entered the smoke filled room, stepping over the newspapers and files scattered about the sofa and I followed her in.
Holmes had his head buried in the latest scandal sheet, lying across the length of the sofa, his pipe jutting out. Elizabeth lounged in the opposite corner; her arms hugged about her drawn-up knees. She was watching the fire. At Mrs. Hudson’s appearance she scrambled upwards.
“Let me take that for you,” she said, taking the tray. “Hello, John,” she told me with a smile.
Mrs. Hudson nodded and puffed.
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