Chapter Text
“With as often as that Enola Holmes comes into the Gentleman’s Club you may as well believe that she is a gentleman!” one lord decried.
“Most often it is to talk to Lord Tewkesbury, and she does dress quite sharply in a suit at least, but then two hours later you can see them at an eatery with her dressed in the finest of silks,” another reasoned.
Sherlock Holmes listened from the chess board he was sitting at, across from Lord Tewkesbury himself. They both firmly believed that sometimes the best disguise was hiding in plain sight.
“Do you think they are courting? It seems like it would be an awfully large step down.”
At that Tewky’s eyes widened. Were they courting? He’s like to be. At 19, almost 20, any regular lord would be married by now to the highest bidder, but thankfully his mother was allowing for a love match within reason.The reason for her probably being Enola. How far down did this go? Perhaps he ought to ask Sherlock first, even though she would do as she pleased anyway. Mycroft would be very pleased, as if he would act as an agent for the man. He could feel his hand tensing, but didn’t realize it until Sherlock kicked him under the table.
“Let’s go walk,” he said with one of his smiles that was never straight forward. Tewky nodded anyway.
As they were leaving of course someone got in the most hurtful comment, “We can only hope any children take after him instead of that tousled mess,” which made the group roar with laughter.
All he thought was how dare they question Enola Holmes' beauty and integrity like that.