I sighed. ‘I suppose. So long as you don’t have any other nasty surprises for me.’
‘No nasty surprises.’ He leaned on an elbow and looked at me, smiling. ‘I do like that dress,’ he murmured.
‘Wait a minute,’ I said, scrambling up to face him. ‘You said something … you said I could wear it when, and then you stopped. What did you mean?’
‘Nell, have I ever told you that you are a very suspicious woman?’
‘Never mind that. Out with it.’
‘I want to take you to visit my parents, at Christmas.’ Sherlock’s voice was steady. ‘Mycroft will be there too. He’s looking forward to seeing you.’
‘Your parents?’ I stammered. ‘For Christmas?’
‘Yes, for Christmas.’
‘What about Dr Watson?’
‘He won’t fit in my suitcase.’ Sherlock rolled his eyes. ‘Nell, Watson can look after himself.’
‘I didn’t think you liked Christmas.’
‘You do, though. Perhaps I shall like it better with you.’
‘Where do they live?’
‘In a little village in the countryside, thirty or so miles away.’
‘It isn’t in Berkshire, is it?’
‘No, no.’ He stroked my cheek. ‘There will probably be snow, and there’s always lots of food, and carol-singers, and a tree with candles.’
‘It sounds lovely.’ I imagined waking on Christmas morning to church bells ringing, and looking out onto snowy fields. It would be like waking up in a Christmas card. ‘What have you told your parents about me?’ It came out a little more baldly than I would have wished.
Sherlock considered. ‘If you take your outfit off now, and hang it up, the creases will probably drop out.’
‘Sherlock…’ I said in my best warning voice.
‘It’s true, though.’ He rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. ‘I haven’t said much. I have hinted that I am very fond of someone … a most intelligent, accomplished, attractive woman…’
‘Why, thank you.’ I mimicked his pose, dislodging my back hair in the process.
‘Entirely deserved. I just haven’t mentioned that I happen to live under your roof.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you have.’ I sat up and began to unpin my hair. ‘Ow.’
‘Here.’ Sherlock sat up too, and carefully took the back pins out.
‘Thank you.’ He leaned in and kissed the nape of my neck. ‘Don’t think you can soften me up.’
‘Can’t I?’ He kissed me again, and eased my little jacket from my shoulders. ‘Let me help you with those creases…’
Later, much later, I lay in the crook of his arm. We breathed together, slow and deep, as the sky outside the window grew darker and darker. ‘I should go and see about dinner,’ I said.
‘No you shouldn’t.’ Sherlock put his other arm over me. ‘It is all in hand. Stay here, with me.’
I closed my eyes, and stayed. The sheets and the patchwork quilt pinned me down, warm and heavy. Evening noise was beginning; a barrel organ cranking out a new tune, shouts, calls, whistles, hurrying footsteps. I had been prepared to miss Sherlock, and I had; but I had missed my home too, more than I had ever thought I would. I wondered how long it would be before I grew bored with my present life, with whatever I felt was holding me back; how long it would be before I visited Mr Poskitt, and wrote Sherlock another note. Perhaps, I thought as I drowsed, meeting Sherlock’s parents, seeing where he grew up, spending Christmas with them, is just a different sort of adventure. I smiled to myself as I remembered Evie’s words. At least this time I would have nice clothes for it.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First of all, thank you to my wonderful beta readers — Ruth Cunliffe, Paula Harmon, and Stephen Lenhardt. Apologies that I kept you waiting so long for a sequel! Also many thanks to my indefatigable proofreader, John Croall, who as ever did a fabulous job. This wouldn’t be the book it is without you all.
I’m also going to thank the internet, without which I would know far less about what parlourmaids do, and would have fallen down far fewer research rabbit holes. Swings and roundabouts! I won’t even attempt to cite all the websites I’ve visited in the course of researching and fact-checking; but the Victorian Web, Victorian London, and of course Wikipedia were incredibly useful.
I’ll admit now that this book was a tough one to write, and particularly to edit. I wrote the first draft back in 2017 and let it mature — or gather dust — for some time before plucking up the courage to reopen the file and peek from behind my metaphorical sofa. One of the reasons I did was the gentle but tenacious nudging of my husband, Stephen Lenhardt. ‘But what about Mrs Hudson 2?’ So big thanks to him for making me face up to my first draft.
And of course, thank you for reading! I hope you’ve enjoyed In Sherlock’s Shadow, and if you could leave the book a short review — or a star rating — on Amazon or Goodreads I’d be very grateful.
Font and image credits:
Fonts:
Caviar Dreams by Lauren Thompson at Nymphont.
Raleway by Matt McInerney at The League of Moveable Type: SIL Open Font License 1.1.
Images:
Brooch: attributed to Maison Rouvenat of Paris, part of the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Open access: public domain.
Jasmine flower: Jasminum nudiflorum by AnRo0002 at Wikimedia Commons. License CC0 1.0: public domain.
Stamp: Penny Lilac (1881), scanned by Stan Shebs at Wikipedia. License: public domain.
Divider image (on business card and chapter headings): clker.com.
Cover created using GIMP image editor.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Liz Hedgecock grew up in London, England, did an English degree, and then took forever to start writing. After several years working in the National Health Service, some short stories crept into the world. A few even won prizes. Then the stories began to grow longer…
Now Liz travels between the nineteenth and twenty-first centuries, murdering people. To be fair, she does usually clean up after herself.
Liz’s reimaginings of Sherlock Holmes, her Pippa Parker cozy mystery series, and the Caster & Fleet Victorian mystery series (with Paula Harmon) are available in ebook and paperback.
Liz lives in Cheshire with her husband and two sons, and when she’s not writing or child-wrangling you can usually find her reading, messing about on Twitter, or cooing over stuff in museums and art galleries. That’s her story, anyway, and she’s sticking to it.
You can also find Liz here:
Website/blog: http://lizhedgecock.wordpress.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lizhedgecockwrites
Twitter: http://twitter.com/lizhedgecock
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/lizhedgecock
Want news on book updates, events, special offers, and exclusives? Sign up to Liz’s newsletter
BOOKS BY LIZ HEDGECOCK
Short stories
The Secret Notebook of Sherlock Holmes
Bitesize
Halloween Sherlock (novelettes)
The Case of the Snow-White Lady
Sherlock Holmes and the Deathly Fog
The Case of the Curious Cabinet
Sherlock and Jack (novellas)
A Jar of Thursday
Something Blue
A Phoenix Rises
Mrs Hudson & Sherlock Holmes (novels)
A House Of Mirrors
In Sherlock’s Shadow
Pippa Parker Mysteries (novels)
Murder At The Playgroup
Murder In The Choir
A Fete Worse Than Death
Murder In The Meadow
Caster & Fleet Mysteries (with Paula Harmon)
The Case of the Black Tulips
The Case of the Runaway Client
The Case of the Deceased Clerk
The Case of the Masquerade Mob
The Case of the Fateful Legacy
COPYRIGHT AND DEDICATION
<
br /> For Stephen —
I got there in the end!
Copyright © Liz Hedgecock 2019
All rights reserved. Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. While some of the characters, places and events may exist in real life, the versions presented here are fictional.
In Sherlock's Shadow (Mrs Hudson & Sherlock Holmes Book 2) Page 25
