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“Do you really think this is such a good idea, Enola?”
“Not really, but it wasn’t my decision.”
“And you really think Sherlock thought this was a good idea?”
“Mmm…probably not. I’m sure this was Mycroft’s decision.”
The carriage jumped and rocked, sending Enola nearly onto Tewksbury’s lap. She yelped and leaned as far away as possible in the tiny carriage, a blush painting her cheeks.
“Sorry,” was all Tewksbury could manage, his own face rivaling Enola’s in color.
“What are you sorry for? I’m the one who…yeah.” Enola couldn’t even look in his eyes, instead she jerked them toward the window to watch the countryside pass by. Soon, she saw her childhood home come into view, and she couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. The house looked significantly different from what she remembered. The yard was kept up, ivy cut down, and the fountain out front bubbled to life with water that splashed and shone in an inviting way Enola didn’t expect.
Mycroft could actually do something nice, apparently. Just one thing, though.
“This is where you grew up?” Tewksbury asked, leaning over Enola’s shoulder to look out the window. “Wow…”
“It didn’t always look this sterile,” Enola said. “You would have liked it even more before Mycroft got ahold of it.”
“Would I’ve?”
Enola nodded and let out a deep breath as the house drew closer. “There were plants everywhere, and animals. It felt more like we lived in the forest rather than around it.”
The carriage came to a stop, and the driver hopped down to open the door. Tewksbury hopped out first, and he took Enola by the waist to lift her down, giving a happy smile when she seemed impressed. However, Enola didn’t dwell too long on his ability to lift her up and seem oh too gentlemanly. She glanced around at the house and yard, and she sighed deeply.
“Now it seems the most lively thing here is the water fountain.”
The sound of gravel alerted her to a new presence, and two sets of steps could only mean one thing.
“I see you’ve made it safely, Enola. Lord Tewksbury.” Mycroft.
“Sir.” Tewksbury gave a nod and tilt of his hat because he was far too polite, in Enola’s opinion, for a man like Mycroft. “You have a remarkable home.”
Enola rolled her eyes and linked her arm with Tewksbury’s, trying to manage a smile but sure by her brother’s reaction that it came off as more of a grimace. “I see you hired those gardeners you wanted.”
“And I see you aren’t too happy with that, are you?”
Mycroft’s tone wasn’t one meant to please Enola, of course not, despite more of her life being spent in the house than his. He didn’t even stay there most of the time; he had too much business in London to move to the country permanently, so why did he care to take the charm away?
Still, judging by the look and the slashing across his neck that Sherlock shot Enola from behind Mycroft’s back, she knew it would be best to keep her mouth shut.
“Why did you want us both to come here, dear brother?” Enola asked. She supposed the venom in ‘dear brother’ wasn’t entirely necessary, but it made her feel better. Tewksbury tightened his grip on her arm.
“Well, of course, I think it’s for the best that we get to know the boy who’s attempting to tame you down. We’ll make sure he’s fit for our dear sister.”
“What?”
Where did Mycroft get the idea that Tewksbury was trying to tame her? He could do no such thing, nor would he even try! Besides, Tewksbury was more concerned with making sure his plants were well watered and coddled. He didn’t have time to chase Enola down in the heat of a case and tell her it was inappropriate to give a man £5 to change clothes with her. Tewksbury didn’t really care, either, which was Enola’s favorite part. He’d still run his hand through her hair and kiss her hand after she finished telling him she got arrested and broke a man’s nose to get away. Sherlock must have forgotten to tell Mycroft those tiny details.
Tewksbury cleared his throat, and Enola looked up to see the red blush coating his cheeks. He did always look sweet like that. “With all due respect, sir, I have no intention of ‘taming’ Enola as much as I have enjoying being with her.”
Mycroft gave him a look, one Enola knew all too well as a displeased one, but he didn’t say anything more.
“Tea, anyone?” Sherlock suggested.
The parlor was well kept, now, Enola noted. Each book and paper was either neatly on a shelf or neatly stacked on a table to be gone through sooner rather than later. Doilies and frilly things decorated surfaces as a reminder that they wouldn’t be ruined by stray tennis balls or paint. It didn’t feel like home. It felt wrong.
Enola noticed when Tewksbury accepted his cup of tea just how nervous he looked, and she almost laughed. Poor thing looked just about ready to ruin his pants if her brothers said the wrong thing. She nudged his arm to get him to look at her and offered a small smile.
“Relax, Tewky,” she whispered.
“Easier said than done.” Tewksbury sipped his tea with a pinkie stuck out, and for that Enola nearly burst out laughing.
“So,” Mycroft started as he sat down. “How does someone like you end up with a girl like Enola?”
“Um, well…she saved my life, fussed at me, saved my life again, and made herself impossible not to love,” Tewksbury said, and Enola was sure he was shaking. They really needed to work on that.
“She saved your life?” Mycroft questioned. Enola supposed Sherlock didn’t tattle on that part. Good!
“Yeah, when we met it was because we were both running away,” Tewksbury explained. “Enola ran away from here dressed as a boy, got on the train in the same compartment as me, I was stowed away in a luggage bag, she did nothing to stop me from falling off the rack-”
“I was more in shock that a bag grew a head; I wasn’t in a position to save you from that,” Enola interjected, which pulled a laugh from both Tewksbury and Sherlock.
“-She warned me there was a man looking for me and left me to my doom, but she did come back and knock the guy out with his own cane when he dangled me out the door. And then we jumped off a moving train.”
“You what?”
Enola took great pride in Mycroft’s shock.
“This was almost two years ago, Mycroft, calm down,” Sherlock said. He could hardly hold in his laughter.
Mycroft settled back down against his seat and cleared his throat. “Well…that is certainly a surprising anecdote.” He took a sip of his tea to calm his nerves. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself in the House of Lords; you’re quite the progressive, aren’t you?”
“Yessir,” Tewksbury managed out, not quite sure where Mycroft was going with this.
“That’s good to see.” A moment of silence fell in the room, and Enola hoped maybe Mycroft had run out of things to interrogate Tewksbury with. “You are quite the public figure, and you’ve been courting my sister for nearly a year, yet you have not gone public with it. Why is that?”
“Mycroft,” Sherlock warned.
“It’s a valid question, Sherlock. The Holmes name is a respected one, boy, so is there a reason you are ashamed?”
“Oh, no, no I’m not ashamed, sir!” Tewksbury squeaked out. “We don’t make attempts to hide our relationship. I just- I’m still very early in my career, and I would like to earn my place and make my name without it being tied to tabloids and papers gossiping about us. And Enola tries hard enough as it is to make a name for herself that isn’t tied to Sherlock’s or yours, so making her public appearance whittled down to ‘Lord Tewksbury’s girlfriend’ is far from ideal. Though, there have still been a fair amount of articles talking about us. It just doesn’t overshadow my work or Enola’s.”
At least that answer seemed to satisfy Mycroft. So much so that he was silent for far too long. Enola glared daggers at him, daring him to say something else rude.
“So, what are you planning to do with Enola?” he asked finally, and Tewksbury nearly choked on the tea he was nursing like a lifeline.
“I-I beg your pardon?” he managed to ask once he got the drink down the right pipe. His whole face was bright red, and only partly from his drink. “I’m not- There-there’s no planning. I’m just- um- we-!”
“He’s obviously planning to marry her,” Sherlock said as casually as if he’d just said Tewksbury was going to give Enola another flower.
“Sherlock!” Enola fussed, and Sherlock just tossed his hands up as if he hadn’t made things worse.
“I’m not wrong!” he said, gesturing to Tewksbury. “If he isn’t planning anything, I’ll eat that newspaper.”
“Well!” Mycroft hopped to his feet and clapped his hands together. “Marvelous!”
“This is why you wanted us to come here, isn’t it, Mycroft?” Enola asked. “You just wanted to see how much longer you’d need to worry about your image. You wanted to hear that ‘Lady Holmes’ would be a phrase you heard soon and that it’d make a different person.”
“It wouldn’t be Lady Holmes, dear sister.”
That was certainly the wrong thing to focus on. Enola stormed out of the too-neat parlor and slammed the front door hard enough to shake the room.
“Well, I see nothing has truly changed with her.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes at his brother. “You really don’t know her at all.” He glanced over at Tewksbury, who sat frozen in place, and he sighed. “She’ll be alright. She’s just on edge because of Mycroft,” he said, leaning in closer to the boy to give his knee a squeeze.
“Where’d she go…?” Tewksbury asked, which Sherlock gave a small smile for.
“She probably went to her ‘alone time’ tree. It’s out in the yard on this side. Given that she’s wearing bright red, you should have no problem spotting her,” he explained.
“If she’s in her alone time tree, shouldn’t that mean we mean leave her alone…?”
“It means her brothers should leave her alone, but you’re the special exception.”
Sure enough, Tewksbury spotted Enola in a tree as he wandered into the yard. “Can I join you?” he asked from the base of the tree.
Enola looked down at him and gave a small smile. She scooted over on her branch and patted the spot beside her. So, Tewksbury hauled himself up into the tree beside her.
“Sorry about my brothers…” she said as she peeled a leaf into little pieces. “They’re ridiculous.”
“They might be a little ridiculous, but that doesn’t mean Sherlock wasn’t right,” Tewksbury said. Enola gave a confused look, so he took in a deep breath and readied himself. “When you told me we were going to come out here to visit with both your brothers, I maybeeee started planning in my head how to best ask them their permission to…you know…ask you to marry me.”
“Oh.”
“But if you don’t want to, then at least we have that settled before I make a fool of myself.”
“No, no, no, Tewksbury! I want to.”
“You do?”
Enola could only nod, and she leaned over to quickly kiss his cheek. “I’d gladly be Lady Nincompoop.”
That one made Tewksbury laugh, as Enola hoped it would. “Well, that’s good, because I’m going to have my name changed to Nincompoop just for you.”
“Yeah, right, I’d like to see that!” Enola said with a laugh. “Although, if I’m to be your wife, shouldn’t you tell me your given name, or should I just wander around calling you Tewksbury for the rest of our lives?”
“I’m fine with you calling me Tewky for the rest of our lives.”
“Seriously.” Enola rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder playfully. “What, is your name really that embarrassing? You do remember that my name is Alone backwards, right?”
“If I tell you, then you have to promise not to laugh, alright?” Tewksbury said.
“I promise I won’t laugh.”
“No, that’s not enough.” Tewksbury held up one of his pinkies, which Enola linked with her own despite her exaggerated eyeroll.
“There, I pinky promise, now tell me, Tewky.”
“It’s Elsie.”
Well, that was certainly cause for quite the moment of shocked silence. “Elsie?” Enola repeated. “Isn’t that a girl’s name?”
“My parents were convinced they were going to have a girl,” Tewksbury explained. “They didn’t plan a second option just in case I was born a boy, so…”
“Oh my god.”
“Now you see why I don’t go by Viscount Elsie Tewksbury.”
“Well, to be fair, with as many titles and words as you managed to cram into your name, I don’t think a given name will be missed,” Enola teased, nudging Tewksbury’s ribs. “But, I was fully expecting you to say something ridiculous like Apple or Fingernail! So, Elsie is a pleasant surprise.”
Tewksbury had to laugh, pushing Enola’s shoulder gently. “Ha ha, I think I’d rather be named Apple.”
“Consider it done, then.”
“Wait- what?”
Enola hopped down from the tree and stood waiting. “You heard me, Apple.”
“Enola, please, have mercy,” Tewksbury begged as he braced against the tree.
“Sorry, I can’t hear you!” Enola sang as she ran away. Tewksbury jumped down to run after her, scooping Enola up and spinning her around once he caught her. “Put me down, Apple!”
“Sorry, who?” Tewksbury adjusted his hold on Enola and spun her once more. “I don’t know anyone named Apple!”
“Tewksbury!”
He set her on her feet, but he didn’t let go of her. Tewksbury peppered her cheek with kisses as Enola laughed harder and harder, only letting her go when she pulled them both down into the grass.
“You’re just plain cruel, Tewksbury,” Enola said as she sat up.
“Says the girl who tried to call me Apple.”
“Well, of course I’d want to call you Apple, my darling.” Enola scooted closer to the boy, and she tucked his hair behind his ear. She needed to cut it soon; it was far too long. “You’re the apple of my eye.”
“Enola Holmes, when did you become a flirt?” Tewksbury teased, snickering when Enola rolled her eyes at him.
“When I decided that you, Elsie Tewksbury, deserve the attention.”
They stayed there in the grass together until Mycroft and Sherlock came outside to get them for supper, and they laughed when Mycroft could only fuss about grass stains and childishness. But, Sherlock couldn’t help but be glad the two were comfortable enough to be childish together. Not that he could get Mycroft to see that as a good thing.