Very interesting. She used no words and yet conveyed her meaning clearly.
This is excellent data of undeniable legitimacy.
He kissed her thoroughly this time, claiming her mouth, caressing her soft lips with his own, pressing her body to his while attempting not to crush her.
After a long, glorious moment she pulled away again, gasping for air.
I’ve gone too far again.
But there was no mistaking her response. Even in her most passionate state, Fantine had not responded with that level of enthusiasm.
“But Watson. And then Mycroft. You seemed to admire every man but me. I understand, of course, I’m no catch, incorrigible, difficult—”
“Sherlock, I . . . I’ve always loved you, admired you, hated you . . .” she giggled. “But I never imagined you could love me back, I’m so inferior to you. So I cast my attentions everywhere else.”
“No, Belle, you’re superior in every way. And . . . you’re my heart. My brain has always been my strength.” He kissed her forehead. “And now, my heart has come alive.”
There was a sudden banging on the door.
“Bloody Hell, is there never a moment’s peace?”
“I’ve never known you to want one before, Sherlock.” Belle appeared dazed. “Oh, I suppose I should get the door. I forgot my duties for a moment.”
“Never mind, my dear, I shall get it.” He sprang to open the door.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
An Unwanted Education
“You have a child trailing the world’s most powerful criminal?”
- Mirabella,“Sherlock Holmes and the Chocolate Menace”
“I quit, Mr. ’Olmes. Nothing is worth having to go to school for!” Wiggins stood before Sherlock. Far from appreciating his new situation, he was both angry and agitated.
“What is the problem now, Mr. Wiggins? Are you not receiving caviar with your dinner? Or does your valet require a night off?”
“I’ve no complaint about the cottages. Them is sweet,” Wiggins said sadly, clearly not wishing to part with his new home though he deemed it necessary.
“Good. I wish you might stop interrupting my work with your constant demands. You’re worse than a whining debutante and her lazy, socialite mother.”
Wiggins puckered his lips at the insult to his manliness. “I ain’t no wimp, Mr. ’Olmes! You can beat me, you can torture me, you can throw me in jail—but don’t expect me to go to school every day.”
“That’s a condition of staying at the Fairclough cottages,” Sherlock said simply. “And how are the accommodations?”
The boy suddenly appeared wistful. “They’se very nice. Clean. No vermin.”
“And you’re keeping the cottages clean and all the grounds kept up?” Sherlock asked.
“Oh, yes, sir. But we can’t stay there. Not if we have to go to school.”
“Perhaps you are unaware, Mr. Wiggins, going to school is the law,” Mirabella said. “Since 1880, school is compulsory for children.” Sherlock stifled a smile. The girl wanted to make certain everyone in her vicinity was educated. He felt his heart soar for an instant as he glanced at her. His love. He hoped she might remain so, but the nature of their business was fraught with uncertainty. And change was Mirabella Hudson’s nature.
“For those what are five to ten years old.” Wiggins interrupted his thoughts. I am almost thirteen.”
“So you wish to be out-smarted by a five-year-old?” she asked.
“I ain’t stupid!” he protested.
“Not that I have the slightest interest in your complaints, but what precisely is your objection to school, Mr. Wiggins?” Sherlock asked.
“The schoolmaster, he beats the boys with a cane if they so much as misspell a word. There’s no talking—ever. And we have to sit in those chairs for four hours at a time. If anyone misses anythin’ the schoolmaster makes ‘em wear a dunce cap in the corner.”
“So you don’t like wearing a dunce cap, is that it, Wiggins?”
“For meself, I can take it, but I can’t have me men treated that way. And the ragged schools is no better. That’s why I never went afore.”
Mirabella wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. “There is nothing I want more in the world than an education, Mr. Wiggins, and here you are throwing it back in our faces. I never met such an ungrateful person in my life.”
Sherlock stifled a chuckle. She gave a performance worthy of the stage.
“We don't want book learnin', we want to learn something useful.”
Sherlock could certainly sympathize with that viewpoint. “I can understand your feeling, Mr. Wiggins, having dropped out of university once I had learned everything I needed.” Sherlock stared pointedly at Mirabella. “I have no degree, nor do I have any need of one.”
Belle bit her lip, and he found himself curious to know what her unspoken retort was. He turned his attention to Wiggins, adding sternly, “That said, you'll learn to read, and you'll learn your figures, and after that, it's up to you.”
“Were you ever in the schoolroom, Mr. ’Olmes?” Wiggins asked. “As a boy, I mean?”
“No, my father was the local justice of the peace, and I was educated by him, as was my brother Mycroft. Naturally we had a private tutor, but the majority of our education was experiencing the criminal justice system and the law from a young age.”
“In a manner which was close to the people,” Mirabella added. “If I recall correctly, court was often held in the local pub.”
“It was the stuff of a great childhood: drunkenness, profane swearing, highway robbery, and rioting.” Sherlock closed his eyes momentarily in sweet remembrance. “Smuggling, assault, and burglary. Pure bliss.”
“That sounds like a bit ‘o heaven,” Wiggins said. “Then why must I go to school?”
“Because your father is not the J.P. and life is not fair,” Sherlock opened one eye. “I had thought you were well acquainted with this fact, Mr. Wiggins.”
“I think it might be too late for us, Mr. ’Olmes . . .” Wiggins said quietly.
“I see. So you think you are unable to learn at this point?” Sherlock nodded gravely with understanding. He moved to his chair and began loading his pipe with tobacco. “I fear the same.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Mirabella objected, her indignation re-directed. “How dare that horrid schoolmaster make you feel that way.”
Sherlock glanced up at her with interest before turning to the child. “So you don’t have any objection to learning, Mr. Wiggins, only to the treatment of your men?”
“And the hours. We ‘ave work to do. I can’t work for you and be in school all the day.”
“There are many children who go to school in the morning, work all day—even in the textile mills—and then do their lessons at night,” Mirabella offered.
“Yeah, and I’ve seen ‘em come out without arms and legs from being so tired,” Wiggins protested. “Besides, the nighttime is our busiest part ’o the day.”
“Very well,” Sherlock said. “I'll obtain for you a private tutor, four hours/day, but you had better do me proud and show a return to my investment.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you quite through with your tantrum, Wiggins? Or is there anything else?”
“No, sir.”
“The older boys can teach the younger. But sooner or later you're going to lose some of these boys to trade apprenticeships, you understand that, don’t you, Wiggins?”
“Yep.” Sadness crossed the boy’s his expression, but only for an instant.
“It's a better life for them,” Mirabella said.
Wiggins shook his head in disagreement. “We have a job, now we ‘ave a home, we work for the world’s best private detective. There ain’t no better life.”
Belle caught Sherlock’s eyes, sharing a stolen glance. Softly she added, “I have to agree, Mr. Wiggins.”
“I daresay no one has ever had a more interesting life with more captivating company.” A wicked sm
ile formed on Sherlock’s lips. “The company becomes more enchanting every day.”
The Beginning
of A Formidable Partnership
Thank you for reading this book. If you enjoyed it, this alone means the world to an author. We love to hear from our fans. Personal notes are always appreciated! Certainly I wish to correct any errors as well as hearing from my readers.
http://suzettehollingsworth.com/contact/.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider writing a review. Reviews are the magical amulet of authors today and readers have a great power today. Without reviews, our books have no visibility on Amazon – and readers do not find them. If you like a book, the surest way to insure that an author can continue writing for a living is to write a review.
Visit Suzette’s website at www.suzettehollingsworth.com. You can contact her http://suzettehollingsworth.com/contact/. Like her on facebook “Suzette Hollingsworth”.
Also by Suzette Hollingsworth
“The Great Detective in Love” mystery series:
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Sword Princess
Sherlock Holmes and the Dance of the Tiger
Sherlock Holmes and the Vampire Invasion
“Daughters of the Empire” historical romance series:
THE PARADOX: The Soldier and the Mystic
THE SERENADE: The Prince and the Siren
THE CONSPIRACY: The Cartoonist and the Contessa
Coming in 2018:
“Sherlock Holmes and the Confirmed Bachelor”
Acknowledgements
I must thank, first and foremost, Kris Wilder, who brainstormed the idea for this book over lunch at the 59’er Diner in Cashmere, WA in a 5-minute interval. Yep, he’s that good. Kris is a plot wizard, not to mention a creative genius, as well as a bestselling martial arts Amazon author.
I am indebted to the master, Arthur Conan Doyle, who created the captivating characters of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, who are so real in our minds that many consider them to be historical figures rather than fictional characters. I have drawn upon “The Sign of Four”, chapter 8, by A.C. Doyle, in describing the introduction of the Baker Street Irregulars.
This book would not be possible without my editor/writer/artist husband, Clint Hollingsworth, an award-winning author. I wish to thank all my editors: May Peterson, Kate Richards, and Peter Senftleben.
A special thanks to the following awesome beta readers: Renee Arthur, Lisa Millett, Susan Cambra, and Heather Chargualaf who so generously gave of their time, input, and encouragement. The feedback from these readers is invaluable.
I’m so fortunate to have found the voice actor who produces my audiobooks, Joel Leslie Froomkin, two-time winner of the prestigious earphones award. Joel is a phenomenal talent who brings my books to life and truly turns all books into theatre. He is an amazing actor and has directed Molly Ringwold and Charles Shaughnessy, (of “The Nanny” fame).
To my BFF Charlsie Sterry, D.D.S., who has been to Nicaragua FIVE TIMES to offer her services for free, and who also donates her expertise to Wycliffe in Dallas, TX, all insults to dentistry are for former time periods only. Today, your dentist is as valuable as your doctor. Dentistry is so important to heart health and to all aspects of the body’s functioning. There is no longer anything to be afraid of and everything to gain.
Please, do not be afraid of the dentist: there have been enormous strides in pain management in the last ten years alone. My dentist in Washington state, Dr. Aaron Kelly, is state-of-the-art and an expert at pain management as well. You can ask for laughing gas or whatever you need. get it, but you can ask. Dr. Kelly does not supply margaritas however, but it’s in the suggestion box. It’s the healers who are among our angels in this life: for me, Amy Brazil, Diane Garris, and Dr. Butruille. Dr. Kelly does not supply margaritas however, but it’s in the suggestion box.
To be a writer is a magical journey, to be in a place of creativity and openness to the whispers of the universe. At times it feels like one is in the presence of God, and at other times it feels like one has been punched in the gut. Like all endeavors in life, one can be debilitated and frozen by self-doubt and criticism and nurtured by centeredness, connection, friendship, and listening to the muse.
This has been a difficult time for me, and I am indebted to my friend Moria Gebhard (named from J.R.R. Tolkein’s “the mines of Moria”), the sunshine in my life for the past year. I thank Moria for the positive energy, the down-to-earth perspectives, the joy in every day events, the willingness to go to new places and see new things, and, last but not least, the lemon drops. I love Moria’s entire family, Luka, Ivan, Kyan, & James “Papa” (the myth, the legend). They are all like art and music: they put the “life” in living.
This book has enabled me to re-visit my friend, Johnny Hooks, who put a smile on my face EVERY time. Johnny was one of the most interesting, fun, lively, amusing people I ever met. I miss him. I have a vivid memory of Johnny in an after-death visit at the Seattle Opera House and stranded on the I-405 corridor. Johnny was one of those people: every encounter with him was brilliantly memorable.
So to all true friends everywhere who keep our dreams alive when they falter in our hearts: Charlsie & Clint Sterry, Susan Bartroff (also a great editor!), Harvey Gover (who was the rock of my childhood and in my heart forever), Virginia Hashii, Amy Brazil, my mother Mary Denison, my grandparents Omah Lock & Marvin Hewitt and readers and friends Michelle Masuda Berry, Valerie Spurlock Bolton, Jilly-Bob Delabano, SueAnn Green, Rena Kohr, Kem Chambers, AnaMaree Ordway, Denae Lancaster, Rex Gordon, Patsy Cantrell, Julie & Zack Hubert. I cherish the SHS class of ’75 and the Beach Girls.
“Dreams, unspoken or not, are living whispers inside our hearts. Our whole life’s potential lies in the spaces between these whispers. Our dreams want us to say ‘yes’, to speak their truth.” – Kelly Rae Roberts
Author’s Notes
Sherlock Holmes and the Vampire Invasion
This is a work of historical fiction, meaning that some of the settings and characters are based on actual historical fact and that some of the characters and settings, as well as the plot, are fictional but possible given the right set of circumstances. In the best of worlds one wishes to time travel through books.
The PBS series “Victorian Slum House” is absolutely mesmerizing, and helps us to understand what it was like to be poor in Victorian times, as many people were. The middle class is a relatively new development. This show is eye-opening, life-changing, and fascinating.
http://www.pbs.org/program/victorian-slum-house/
The Workhouse:
The references in this book were modeled after the Andover workhouse, which was in Hampshire, not London. I used the name of the Saint Pancras Workhouse, which was in Middlesex, London just northwest of Whitechapel. St. Pancras was no European holiday or model of reform, but I don’t believe it was anything in the league of Andover. I apologize here to St. Pancras; the use of the name was all about geography.
I read of an Andover account where a woman was separated from her 2-year-old baby and, because the woman begged to be able to care for her sick child, was beaten and forced to eat her own excrement. I was so disgusted that I didn’t note the reference. It’s hard to believe that someone could be so deliberately cruel to another person.
Inmates were allowed to come and go in the workhouse (unlike debtor’s prison, which was literally a jail). Many people did leave and the workhouse primarily consisted of orphans, the elderly, and the sick: obviously it was so horrible that, if people had the wherewithal to get a job and to leave, they did. But it was also difficult to get a job, both in reality and because of confidence issues. And there were limited times inmates could leave if they choose to stay in the workhouse: they had jobs to do in the workhouse to pay for their food and shelter.
London is rainy and wet, and those on the street often slept sitting up because sleeping on the ground was a sign to the police that they were homeless; the police moved them
along.
Fascinating first-hand account of the workhouse: “Indoor Paupers: Life Inside a London Workhouse”, compiled by Peter Higginbotham. There are very few first-hand accounts in existence.
http://www.workhouses.org.uk/memories/
https://smile.amazon.com/dp/B00B4GUNAG
“The newspapers are pure gold in here. There are a few fortunate inmates who receive these regularly—perhaps from family members—and they are the kings of the establishment. They receive favoritism from all of the other inmates as well as extra bits of bread or tobacco in exchange for a half-hours borrowing of the news.” – direct quote from workhouse inmate
“Children might also be abandoned by their families. Sometimes, when there were a large number of children in a family, a few of the children might be sent to the workhouse to ease the burden on the parents. On arrival at the workhouse, children were separated from their parents, and even from their siblings if they were not the same sex.”
From “Life in the Victorian & Edwardian Workhouse” by Michelle Higgs
Sherlock Holmes and the Vampire Invasion Page 34
