For a long, rather boring while, perhaps a month or so, I didn’t see much of my friend and employer.
As I was out doing the shopping one day, I found myself at a grocer’s that was close to where my childhood home had been. We’d lived in the poorer part of town, near the river, just down from where the nice riverfront park was, where I’d walked with Michelle Stemford the day I’d interviewed with Mrs. Hudson.
How quickly one part of town could morph into another, going from the lovely, well-kept boardwalk and park, to the poor part of town barely two miles down the road. It was strange to me.
My feet walked until I stood outside my familiar old home, and I stared at it wistfully, feeling an immense sadness as I thought about all the happy times I’d had there with my family.
“Joan Watson, is that you?” An old woman’s voice called.
“Mrs. Tish?” I cried as I turned. “Oh you haven’t aged a day!”
“I may not look any older, but I feel it!” she laughed, “How are you, dear?”
“Feeling a bit melancholy, I’m afraid, but I’m alright. Doing well, actually. I have a steady job, a home, food to eat, clothes to wear, everything I might need.”
“But not your parents to share your happiness with?” she guessed.
“Yes.” I sighed, feeling tears pricking at my eyes. “I miss them.”
“I imagine you do.” She patted my shoulder. “Well, I’d best be off, dear, I’m watching my grandchildren. You must come visit us sometime!” The old woman waved, and tottered back into her house.
I stood there for a little while longer, and then looked around. My eyes noted an elderly chap who looked like an old sailor, perhaps, watching me from the space between two somewhat dilapidated houses. Maybe he knew Mrs. Tish.
“Hey, pretty lady, are you lost?” A man’s voice called from behind me.
I cringed, and ignored the catcall. Turning, I started off at as brisk a pace as my limp allowed.
“Aw, your leg hurting you, girly?” the same man’s voice spoke, but I noted that it was closer, this time.
Once more, I ignored it. Suddenly, a rough hand gripped my arm, forcing me to turn around. “Think you’re too good to answer me, do you?” The large, ugly man that the catcalls had belonged to snarled.
“Let go of me.” I said in a loud voice, and tried to pull away.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” he growled.
“I said, let go of me!” I shouted.
Suddenly, he clamped his hand over my mouth. “Let’s not have anymore of that shouting now, huh?”
Fury blazed through me, I bit down hard on his hand. My rage pushed away any concern for being seen using magic, and I pulled it, using the power to force him away from me. As he stumbled back, surprised, the elderly sailor I’d noticed before was suddenly there, knocking his walking stick against my assaulter’s knees, and causing him to crash to the ground. The sailor then gave the man a swift crack to the head with his cane, rendering the man unconscious. “Let’s track down a constable, shall we?” his voice croaked.
“I think that’s an excellent idea, good sir.” I told him.
We quickly located a constable, told him the story of what had happened, and led him back to the still unconscious man. The constable thanked us, took down our details, and sent us on our way.
“He’ll likely be out of the holding cell they put him in by tomorrow, but at least it’ll be on his record that he assaulted someone.” I told the old man as we walked out of the poor part of town, and emerged onto the riverfront.
“Very true.” He coughed.
I blinked, realizing I’d not caught the elderly man’s name, or thanked him for helping me. “Oh, I never caught your name, sir! And I don’t think I thanked you for helping me. So thank you, Mr.-?”
“You know my name, Joan.” Suddenly, the old sailor was gone, and Gabriel was in his place.
“What?! Goodness, boy, are you everywhere?” I exclaimed, mildly annoyed with him.
“I do try.” He assured me with a grin. We walked to a bench that overlooked the river, and sat down. The detective’s smile faltered for a moment, and he hesitantly reached out, gingerly putting his hand over where mine rested on the bench next to me. “Are you alright?”
“My arm is a little bruised, but I’m fine otherwise.” I told him with a shrug.
A slightly upset expression passed across his features, and he pulled his hand away from where it rested, over mine. He carefully touched my arm where the man had grabbed it so roughly, examining it, his frown deepening as he let his hand fall. “I think you’ll have a bruise. Forgive me, Joan, I would have intervened sooner-”
I cut him off, “I’m glad you didn’t. I proved to myself that I’m able to fight off an attacker…even if I did have to use some magic.”
“I could feel that you had, though it didn’t look that way, thankfully, it simply looked like you were able to force him away after biting his hand.”
“Surely it wasn’t entirely believable, though, that someone my size should force away such a large man…”
“You’d be surprised what people will believe.”
“True.”
“What brought you to that part of town?” he wanted to know.
“Oh, you can’t just tell at a glance?” I teased gently.
But he looked away, as if upset by this, which wasn’t what I’d intended my words to do. I’d expected him to laugh. “I can choose not to notice things at a glance. I can ignore it. I have tried to, for your sake, so that you have some semblance of privacy.”
“Have you?” I was surprised to hear this.
“Yes. It would rather render our conversations useless if I were to read everything that I could possibly glean from you.” he told me.
“Then I must thank you, Gabriel, if only for the sake that I enjoy our conversations.”
“As do I.” He smiled at me. “Now, I do see, quite obviously, that you have a bag of groceries. But I don’t think there’s a grocery store in the immediate vicinity. What brought you out here?”
“If you insist! There’s not much to it, really, though. I was shopping in a street not too far away, and realized that I was close to my childhood home. Then I found myself in front of it, staring wistfully…what brought you here? A case?”
“I’m looking into the criminal network that Myles told us of.” He said, his voice now quiet. “More and more I am aware of its movements throughout the city. I wouldn’t be surprised if that man was even a part of it, however lowly his position, so brash was he in assaulting you in broad daylight, as if he had no worries.”
I shuddered. “This network worries me.”
His face was grim. “As it does I. This M, whoever or whatever they are, is most devious, not to mention basically impossible to track, much less to pin a crime to. I’ve managed to thwart some of the criminal network’s efforts, but I fear my interference has affected but a mere drop in their bucket of evil-doings.”
“I had no idea evil-doings were measured by buckets.” I told him, wanting to lighten the mood.
My words had the desired effect, and Gabriel laughed suddenly. “By the bucketful, dear Joan. And good deeds are measured by the teaspoon, I’m afraid.”
“I think you’ll find that they can be measured by veritable waterfalls, if you realize that there’s kindness in the smallest of everyday gestures. Picking up an umbrella that someone has dropped, offering a sympathetic ear to a friend, or making someone laugh, stuff like that, you know? It’s in the small things, Gabriel, that the waterfalls are created.”
“Ah, but does the evil outweigh the good?” he studied my face thoughtfully. I couldn’t help but look right back into his dark, intelligent eyes. It was so good to talk to him, after having not seen him for so long. I’d missed him, honestly.
“If it did, I don’t think anyone could be happy in the world. And as I am happy, I know that the good that exists is a most formidable opponent for all the evil that’s out there.”
“You comfort me.” Gabriel told me, a smile on his lips once more. I wondered if he knew that he was the force of good that had risen in my mind.
“I think that comes with the territory of being a doctor, doesn’t it? Something about a good bedside manner?”
“Well, I certainly am sick, if we’re talking bedside manners. I’m sick of being immersed in the dark underbelly of the city.” The detective stood, and offered me his arm, which I gladly placed my hand in the crook of. “Let’s go home and eat lunch. Perhaps I’ll convince you to take me as your patient, that your levity might cure my heavy heart while we eat.”
“I’ll do what I can, but that’s a very short time to heal a heavy heart.” I smiled at him.
“I think that no one in the world is better suited for such a task, Joan.” was his soft reply.
--
About three months before the Coronation Ball, Gabriel suddenly exclaimed, “Joan! We still have to order you a ball gown, and your new dresses!”
I looked up from my breakfast, blinking in surprise. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. But we still have some time, right?”
We’d taken to eating breakfast in his study each morning. When we had a case on, we would talk over the case, or he would spend the time eating absentmindedly while searching through his various reference books. But when there weren’t cases, we’d often watch the people out on the street as they passed, and he’d tell me what he could figure about them, just by a glance, which was really pretty fun.
“Yes, but most places have some sort of waiting list when it comes to making fancy ball gowns.” He told me.
“Oh, will there be enough time?” I frowned.
“I certainly hope so.” Gabriel sighed. “Tell Mrs. Hudson that we’ll be eating lunch out today.”
“But Gabriel, isn’t Mrs. Hudson going to leave for her holiday sometime today?” I asked.
Mrs. Hudson was going to take a bit of leave, an indefinite amount, actually, as she needed to care for her ailing sister. This would leave the care of the house entirely to me, something that I did not cherish the thought of.
“Well, then no one will have to worry about it, and dinner can be made when we return.” He said, “You must have a ball gown, and if you want it done in time, we need it ordered today…we’ll also put in orders for the rest of your dresses too, just to get it over with.”
“Alright.” I picked up the tray, and headed towards the door, then turned, “Thank you, Gabriel.”
“Of course, my dear Watson.” His voice was soft.
“Your dear Watson?” I heard my mouth ask as one of my eyebrows rose.
“My dear Watson.” The detective’s dark eyes were intense, though his tone was now mild, “Certainly no one else’s.”
Feeling my face flush, I left, and waited for a moment in the hall, to let my face cool down, lest Mrs. Hudson see my blush and ask me what was wrong. He had never said anything quite like that before…not that I really minded…
After we’d told Mrs. Hudson farewell, a bit tearfully on my part, as I wasn’t entirely sure when she’d be back, we went to a dear little restaurant. Gabriel tried to pay for my meal, but I insisted on covering the bill, to his annoyance, citing the fact that I rarely spent my own money, as he provided me with both room and board, and that he was about to order, and pay for, a new wardrobe and ball gown for me as well. He wouldn't be entirely swayed, however, but we agreed to pay for our own meals, in the end.
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“Come along, Joan.” Gabriel held the door of the seamstress’ shop open for me. I’d never been into such a fancy store in my entire life. If I remembered correctly, this was one of the handful of dress shops where the upper class had their clothing made.
A stern looking woman greeted us, but her expression turned from intimidating to pleasant as soon as her eyes alit on Gabriel. “The younger Sir Locke, what a delight! I do hope you’re pleased with the coat you had made.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Widley. It has been an excellent coat indeed, I’ve been very happy with it!” To my great surprise, I found that he was all smiles, and incredibly charming all of a sudden, something I’d never seen from him before. Then again, I’d learned, in my time with him, that Gabriel was quite the actor, when he needed to be.
“Then what can I do for you today, a new suit, perhaps?”
“Yes, I think that’s in order, Mrs. Widley.” He nodded.
“Then if your maid will wait here, just come through to the fitting rooms…” Mrs. Widley started to show him away.
“Actually, this is Joan Watson, and she’s my associate. We need to order a new wardrobe for her, as well as a ball gown. I know you typically have a long waiting list, but Joan here needs it in exactly three months time, if that’s possible, or would that put you in a bit of a pickle?”
“Oh that’s not a pickle, Sir Locke, we’ll have your whole order done before then, I assure you! Now a full wardrobe, that would be what, ten, fifteen dresses?” she asked, looking to him for confirmation.
“I don’t need that many!” I said to Gabriel, alarmed.
But his hand suddenly rested gingerly on the small of my back in an assuring sort of way that caused my face to flush what I had a feeling was an intense shade of scarlet. “As many as you think is proper for an up-and-coming lady in society. Joan is a doctor.”
“A woman of medicine?” Mrs. Widley said, her eyebrows shooting up, “Congratulations, dear girl! To be a successful doctor at your age, it took me many long years to get where I am today!”
“Well, he did say up-and-coming, Mrs. Widley, I’m…still only his maid, at the moment.” I muttered, looking down at my feet, which were shod in my rather worn-out shoes.
“You’re my associate, Joan.” Gabriel’s voice was firm. “And that’s not ‘only his maid’.”
“Sure.” I couldn’t help but smile.
“You have my measurements already, so just use them to make a new suit…a black one, I think.” he directed Mrs. Widley.
“I beg to differ, Sir Locke, but you’re taller than when you were last here.” Mrs. Widley said, her eyes appraising him with a calculating gaze.
Gabriel blinked, clearly surprised at this news, “That’s not possible.” If he was as old as he had made it seem, then he certainly hadn’t grown anymore, so I understood his confusion.
“I assure you, it’s true. But we’ll double check, just to be sure.” She led us down a hallway towards the fitting rooms. “Sharon will take care of you, Sir Locke, I’ll take care of Ms. Watson.”
“Doctor.” Gabriel corrected gently as an elderly woman led him into a separate fitting room.
“Dr. Watson, quite right.” Mrs. Widley corrected herself with a smile. She shut the door securely behind us, and pulled out a measuring tape. “Now, my dear girl, let’s get your measurements.” I disrobed down to my chemise, and shivered a little as she worked.
“I’m so pleased to see that Sir Locke has taken a shine to you! And here I was thinking that he was far too busy with his cases to pay attention to young ladies. It’s really no surprise to me that he’d be attracted to a smart girl, indeed a doctor! Oh and such a lovely little young woman!” The seamstress sounded very pleased with the notion.
My face burned red again.“Oh goodness! You must be mistaken! Sir Lock isn’t attracted to me, Mrs. Widley! I’m only his maid, despite what he says.” As I very much wished that she were right, it…probably just wasn’t true. He said some odd things, and acted oddly, at times, but…well, in the end, we were just friends.
She only laughed. “Now, we’ll talk about your everyday dresses later, but let’s talk fancy first. As far as your ball gown goes, what would you like?”
“I…don’t know the slightest thing about fashion, I’ll admit.” I sighed.
“That’s alright, dear, just let me help, in that case.” She said in a kind voice that I wouldn’t have expected from such a severe looking woman. “Very bright colors are the rage this season! Lots of sunny yellows, spring-y greens, and bright magentas!”
Fortunately, I knew enough about what I liked, personally, in fashion to disagree with her. “I…I don’t think I’d be very comfortable in bright, shocking colors…”
“Well, we certainly won’t put you in anything bright if you don’t want that. What are your favorite colors, dear?”
“I like most blues and subdued greens, and very pale pinks.” I said thoughtfully. “I like dark red, like cranberry…oh, and lilac as well.”
“I can work with those!” Mrs. Widley nodded understandingly, but then she looked thoughtful, “But dear, you would look wonderful in gold.”
“Gold?” I asked, surprised, but not unhappily so, at the suggestion. I looked in the mirror thoughtfully. “I…suppose I might look nice in gold.”
“Be daring, Joan! If he’s not attracted to you, as you say he is, he may very well change his mind about that after seeing you in the perfect dress! And I think…yes, I think you would look absolutely darling in the dress I’m picturing.”
“You…you think?” I asked quietly. I…I couldn't deny it to myself that I did want Gabriel to be attracted to me. That was probably very shallow of me, but I did want that.
I probably…loved him a little. But if he were attracted to me, or happened to find himself in that line of thought, I didn’t only want it to last when I was wearing a specific color or dress…I wanted it to be something far more permanent than just a physical attraction…not that he necessarily felt anything akin to that for me, anyways. Nor would I ever expect him to.
“I know so, dear. Sometimes all it takes is the perfect dress to grab that special man’s attention, and make him realize that you’re a woman rather than just a girl.”
“I doubt he’ll ever realize that.” I laughed, “I’m not entirely sure that he’s realized that I’m a girl!”
“I’m pretty sure that he’s realized that much, just judging by the way he looks at you.” Mrs. Widley laughed a little. “So all gold…all gold, and…and not a big bustle, that was the last decade…I’m thinking gold and sleek, and shimmery, something daring and never done before.” Mrs. Widley sounded delighted, and inspired, but by what, I wasn’t sure.
“Nothing too showy!” I begged, not wanting to be made a fool.
“No, it will be exquisite and sophisticated, not showy, dear, I promise!”
“A-alright.” I gave in. After all, she was the one that knew fashion, not me.
“Wonderful, darling!” she clapped her hands again, seeming pleased.
After I put my dress back on, we left the fitting room, and she showed me the material she had in mind for the ballgown. It was a light, silky, flowing fabric that caught the light and shimmered gorgeously. Mrs. Widley promised me that the design would be wonderful, but that she’d have to draw it up, as it was to be something entirely new. The thought was ridiculously flattering, to have a dress designed specifically for me by such a prestigious dressmaker. “Now then, we need to pick out your regular dresses. With your body type, dear, you’re lucky enough that you can wear just about any style you want, but are there any you like in particular?” she wanted to know.
“I don’t like low-cut dresses.” I told her quickly.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else?”
“Joan would look nice in anything, I’ll warrant.” Gabriel’s voice made us jump. “You were right, Mrs. Widley, I’m about an inch taller than last time…but I’m baffled as to why…I shouldn’t be growing anymore.”
“Ah, I’m never wrong about that, my dear!” Mrs. Widley said, shaking her head in amusement. “But as to your previous observation, the good doctor here would look nice in anything, I agree, but I do need to know what sort of dresses she likes!”
“If you could have any dress in the world, what would you want, Joan?” he asked me.
“Dresses that are simple and comfortable.” I shrugged. “I’m a doctor, not a woman of high-society or anything like that. I don’t need fancy dresses.”
“So you need comfortable dresses that still have sophistication.” Mrs. WIdley said, nodding knowingly.
“I…I guess?” I looked at Gabriel for help.
He shrugged, seeming just as confused as me. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Think fitted but not tight, flattering, but still comfortable.” Mrs. WIdley clarified a little.
“Alright.” I nodded.
“And you like subdued blues and greens, light pink, cranberry, lilac…I can work with that. Maybe a few other colors, similarly subdued or pastels, I think…Do you prefer any patterns?”
“I like flower patterns, nothing obnoxious, but the ones where the flowers are very small…” I told her, certain of that much. “Other than that, I prefer solid colors. And…no ostentatious lace or ribbons or anything obnoxious like that…”
“Alright! I think we can make some wonderful dresses for you.” She said, smiling.
The seamstress had me pick out about fifteen different bolts of cloth for the bases of my dresses, and then different fabrics for accents, linings, chemises, and even two more nightdresses. Gabriel insisted that I have two more coats, one for everyday wear, as well as more fancy occasions, as well as a few new hats to go with my dresses, some new scarves, and several pairs of shoes.
“This is too much, Gabriel.” I said when Mrs. Widley was away, fetching something or other. “I…We should leave, you can’t buy all this.”
“When you’re as old as I am, Joan, money has accumulated so that I never have to worry about having funds for anything.” His hand rested, for a moment, against my lower back again, making my face flush once more. “It’s no problem, I promise. Besides, Mrs. Widley gives me a special discount as well, since she was once one of my clients.”
“She was?”
“Yes, I helped her with a spot of trouble when an entire shipment of the finest silk went missing. Now, please don’t worry about it, Joan. After all, I don’t really have anyone else to spend my money on.”
“Mrs. Hudson.” I replied.
“I’ve bought her clothes before, but she really enjoys making her own, so now I only buy her cloth.”
“Oh…I see.” I blinked, realizing that Gabriel was actually an incredibly generous man, at least to the people he cared about…but something told me that he cared more for people in general than he liked to admit, even to himself.
“So don’t worry about it.” Gabriel patted my shoulder gently, smiling a little. “Are we done here?” He asked, looking up as Mrs. Widley returned.
“Unless there’s anything else you’ll be wanting, I think so!”
“Then we’ll take our leave.”
“I’ve seen enough fabric to last me a lifetime.” I sighed, rubbing my eyes, tired.
My friend and employer chuckled quietly in agreement.
We bid Mrs. Widley and her fabulous dress-shop farewell, and headed back to Cooke Street.
“Oh, Mrs. Hudson has gone.” I said, remembering it as we walked in, and I hung up my coat and hat. “It’s a good thing we bade her farewell before we left.”
“Yes, I’ll miss her.”
“Maybe we ought to visit her in the countryside sometime.”
“I actually think she’s in a mountainous region, very beautiful. But perhaps a visit is in order.” Gabriel nodded.
It was quiet for a few moments.
“I’ll start on supper, then.” I told him. “I’ll bring it up when it’s ready.”
“Alright.” He said, disappearing up the stairs.
I hummed as I prepared dinner, cutting and chopping and stirring and tasting.
“I am terribly bored.” Gabriel’s voice made me jump.
“Good heavens, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” I said, putting my hand to my heart.
“Sorry.” He frowned, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I didn’t even hear you come in!”
“I can be rather quiet, I suppose.”
“Indeed!” I returned to my cooking. “You don’t have any cases, do you?”
“None that have panned out so far.” he said glumly, sitting down at the table.
“Well, you can keep me company, if you like.”
“I will, then.” He said quietly.
It was silent for a few minutes, except for the sounds of me cooking. To my surprise, Gabriel suddenly was standing next to me, taking the spoon from my hand, and stirring the pot, saying, “I’ve got this, Joan. Check on the rolls.”
I wiped my hands on my apron, smiling at him. “Thanks.”
We went about cooking for a little longer without much conversation.
My mind dwelled on the upcoming ball. “Does your big brother often drag you out to parties and such?”
“He tries.” Gabriel told me, smirking a little, “But unless he makes it an order, as he did this time, I don’t often go.”
“Why not? Surely they’re fun…or at least amusing, to watch all the pompous people…not that your brother is pompous.” I added hastily, not wanting to offend him.
Gabriel chuckled a little, to my surprise. “Did you actually meet my brother? He is certainly pompous…but yes, I suppose they can be amusing…at least they provide insight into the dull little lives of common folk. Well, the common kind of aristocratic folk…the people with blank, dull minds being doted on by patient servants who are typically of the same variety…You do see social patterns. The women who are considered the most beautiful almost never leave the dance floor, along with the women who are considered the most wealthy…so the women who are only of normal looks and or not extremely wealthy only dance a little…”
“Then I suppose I won’t be dancing much.” I laughed, “I don’t fall into either of those categories.”
“I’m afraid you won't be dancing much for other reasons entirely, I’ll need you to help me keep an eye out for anything suspicious.” He replied.
“Well, I don’t mind attributing the fact that I don’t get to dance much to that. It doesn’t hurt my feelings.” I assured him, smiling a little. “What do you notice about how the men are treated at the parties?”
“Of course, they’re the ones doing the asking-of-the-ladies to the dance floor…and they’re the ones asking the very beautiful women, very rich women, or both very beautiful and rich women to dance…although if the women who they ask do not find the man handsome enough, or rich enough, or proper enough, or with the correct sort of personality that they like, they may be rejected…but I’ve noted that it’s more rare for a man to be rejected by a woman that he’s asked to dance than a man to ask an only average beauty or a girl with only moderate wealth to dance with him.”
“Who do you ask to dance?”
“I don’t enjoy dancing, so I don’t usually dance.”
“Do women ever buck the trend and ask you to dance?” I asked, grinning at the thought.
“Since I am Myles’ younger brother, and the fact is well-known, I have been sought out before…and I have turned them down graciously, unless I am given no other choice by my brother…”
“He makes you dance with people?” The thought was entirely amusing, and I had to keep myself from giggling.
“The women whose ties and influence are important in Averah, yes.” Gabriel replied sullenly. “I don’t enjoy it.”
“I’m sorry.” I laughed. A thought struck me, “I’ve just had a thought.”
“What is that?”
“I know that it’s still a long way off, but I have no idea of how I should go about preparing for this ball when the time comes…nor do I have the means.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t have the means to fix my hair, nor do I have any makeup.”
“Is it necessary?”
“I would stick out fairly badly without having a proper hairdo or elegant makeup…” I frowned, “Which is preposterous.”
“I believe there’s a salon near the palace that can do all that. I’ll book you in for the day of the ball. That’s where all the other ladies will be having their makeup and hair done, I should think, and that way I can go early and help with the preparations for the ball. I’ll have them send you to the palace when you’re done, via one of their private carriages. Then I’ll meet you as you come in.”
“Sounds good to me, thank you.” I said gratefully. Checking on the chicken, I pulled it out of the oven, “Dinner is ready! Let’s eat.”
“Alright then.”