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My dear, dear Lord Tewkesbury,
Lady Caroline Tewkesbury,
"If you do not finish reading this letter, I ask that you burn it as soon as you decide you have read enough.
I am writing this letter to offer my deepest apologies for not attending your lovely estate in Basilwether tonight, at the engagement Ball of your son, Viscount Tewkesbury, Marquis of Basilwether. I have been pondering for the last few hours whether I should even write to you, looking at the huge pile of drafts and crumpled papers that have accumulated on my desk on this subject – however, Edith would be deeply irritated to discover that I have used up half of her paper to get nowhere... Furthermore, out of respect and consideration for the relationship we have built over the last few years, an important friendship that has helped to clear my mind at times when my own mother cannot be present, I believe this is the easiest way to end my cycle in this family – also taking into account the pile of letters addressed to you that has been growing steadily over the last few weeks. I am aware that some... matters have not been fully clarified, and in order to avoid future embarrassment between you, madam, the future Marchioness and Lord Tewkesbury, I am writing you this letter.
I know how much you value my friendship with your son, how grateful you are that years ago I helped him save his own life – even though he saved himself the moment that tree trunk missed him, when he saw an unhappy life passing before his eyes and was brave enough to do something about it, even though he was only sixteen. He bribed officials – perhaps not the most admirable thing to do, but who am I to judge him for something I do so often? – to hide inside a suitcase that smelled terribly of mould, with only a small pocket knife to defend himself. He was always a bold, intelligent lad, and he certainly had a daring plan at the time. I believe that our meeting was just a complement that was meant to happen, and that it was the right time, just when we needed each other. Your son was made to fight, Lady Caroline. I am proud to see him choose his own battles so well in politics. He is doing a great job; he has always been a good boy and has become a good man. I am filled with appreciation and relief to know that those who are invisible in our unjust and flawed society can count on men like your son.
The young Lord also helped me more times than I could count on my fingers and toes – more than all his pairs of gloves combined. We had invaluable teamwork that resulted in closed cases, although I feel I owe my sincere apologies for all the times I returned the poor Lord injured and with bloodstained clothes – occasionally, a particular mess of our blood together. I was raised to fend for myself, and his son helped me understand that not all burdens need to be carried alone; that I could see him as an ally and share difficult moments. I chattered about countless cases thousands of times, listened to him vent about the impasses and concessions at Lord's thousands of times. We shared intimate traumas about the feeling of not belonging anywhere... we shared smiles and secret glances while we held each other's gaze through so many storms.
I feel... We weren't being entirely honest about our relationship. Some newspapers even published scandalous articles about the connection between Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes' younger sister and the future Marquis of Basilwether... none of them even came close to explaining the immensity that was us, Tewkesbury and I, Lady Caroline. Everyone loves to venture into the detective profession, including me, but still... no one was able to dive into the infinite, finite sea that was the relationship that your son and I continued to swim in. Anyway, the importance of that is no longer relevant. We are both drowning now. We swim in circles, a failed cycle. A maze with no way out. We get nowhere. Actually, perhaps I am not being fair, I apologise again. I drowned, I am here and alone, as I was meant to be... a body floating alone. Tewkesbury... he left that spiral we used to call home. That we called... love.
I'm sorry, Lady Caroline, for so many lies, but... our relationship was never purely friendship. We were entangled in a dangerous, true and... lovely love. It was lovely to love your son and be loved back.
Happiness. That was all I felt the whole time before a probable time bomb imploded between us. I knew how to defuse it and... and yet I chose to let it explode – on me, on Tewkesbury... on us. I experienced love with your son, true love, and I must admit that in a society of convenience, it is truly a privilege to know true love. I felt love overflowing in my veins, in my bones... I knew what it was to love my mother, my brothers... to love my work and to love solitude, but... the love I feel... the love I felt for your son was completely different. I wouldn't say it completed me, I never thought anything was missing in me, but... it was a necessary addition that complemented me. Without him, some things didn't make sense. In fact, I believe that with him everything was better. When it was just the two of us, it was pure happiness. Even with all our usual teasing, petty fights, and messes we got ourselves into... I still like being alone, Lady Caroline, but I liked being alone with him even more. It seems... It seemed like my heart was crying out for it. A scandal, I know. But only adoration passed through me. But only adoration passed through me and ruined all my prudence when it came to her son – and I was always splendid at sneaking out disguised while escaping through her son's bedroom window.
I lost myself in Lord Tewkesbury's lips, and he found me every time. I lost myself in his eyes, in his ridiculous hair, in his beautiful flowers, his unexpected declarations, and, above all, I lost myself in him. In his sweet yet shrewd personality, in his free and carefree spirit, in his ramblings and his directness. Tewkesbury found me every time, Lady Caroline, except... except when he asked me to marry him. I couldn't let him find me this time. Liam... Lord Tewkesbury took so long... so long to feel like he belonged to something. How could I take that away from him? How could I be so... selfish and keep him only for myself when he can conquer the whole world... can help and change the whole world, if he so desires? Don't get me wrong, I never considered myself an obstacle to your son, and I know I could help him, I know that together we would be unbeatable, we are unbeatable... but not in a marriage, not in this century. Not under these circumstances. How could I allow myself to be the Marquise, Lady Caroline? My work keeps me constantly on the move, changing locations, it would be impossible... how could this relationship flourish in this society? How could we prevent this beautiful bouquet, the kind he likes so much, from turning into dry, thorny leaves? How could I allow us to take... this romance... this secret further, only for it to crumble in the long run? Turning our happiest memories into the most painful ones, Lady Caroline? How could I not say no to Liam, even when... well, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter anymore.
I couldn't and didn't want to, nor should I attend the engagement today, Lady Caroline. Hiding in the corners of a ballroom I know so well, which would whisper to me about me and your son... how could I be in a beautiful, useless dress while watching Liam ask another woman to marry him... how could I listen to him talk about marriage if it wasn't with me... I couldn't help but feel my heart breaking even more to the rhythm of the music that would be playing while they danced the waltz, the quadrille, or whatever other dances there are... I never cared about any of them if it wasn't us dancing together, and that wouldn't change now. I believe I will never dance again for pure pleasure or genuine desire... I don't... I wouldn't want to have the image of young Lord with another woman in my mind as my last memory of him, Lady Caroline. I am selfish and brave enough to say outright that I don't want to see anything about this wedding.
I haven't seen him in so many months... we haven't exchanged correspondence in so long... I believe that the last memories are already painful and bitter enough. What I wouldn't do to not remember how Liam spent a few weeks after his first marriage proposal, sending me letters with tear marks, ink smudged on every word. Especially in those that mentioned my name as a plea. Just like this one is equally smudged. Time has passed and I... I am in self-imposed exile - and the “no” was mine. The sorry and miserable state we were left in after I trampled on whatever we had was my fault and I take responsibility for it.
I feel so relieved that there are no paintings of me and the Marquis. I couldn't bear physical proof of how haunted I will be by the memory of the sparkle in my eyes that could have loved him for a lifetime. He will haunt me anyway. It must be the price to pay for years in Heaven by his side.
When I close my eyes, I still see him as mine. My Tewkesbury, my useless boy. I'm sorry, I can't see him getting married. I can't even think about how I would feel if I received a wedding invitation. I am selfish, it was my decision alone. I have been convincing myself for months that I am not sorry, that I have no right to be sorry when it comes to something so big... when it involves his heart... I will not do that to your son, Lady Caroline... not again.
I believe that after reading this far, I don't even need to beg you not to mention me to your son anymore... I believe that if you are still reading, you have come to that decision on your own. We no longer have any kind of relationship. When I look back, I see complete happiness in my moments with him. When I look to the future, I see him happy with his future wife. And so it will be. I am sorry for the years of lies, scandals in the name of your family and, above all, for the suffering I caused Tewkesbury. I am sorry for breaking the expectations and trust you had in me, and I am even more sorry for not responding to any letters in recent months.
I send this letter with regret and relief. I have always held you in high regard, Lady Caroline. I would ask you not to worry, I am moving away from London and will soon be nothing more than a distant surname. I do not intend to insert myself into Liam's life in any way, nor do I expect to continue to have a friendly relationship with you. I thank you for the years of hospitality and I end my relationship with your family here. I am sorry for all of this.
With love, Enola H.
P.S.: Also, congratulations on the marriage of the Viscount, Marquis of Basilwether. I truly loved him very much, and that is enough.”
The letter was never delivered. Enola Holmes left that same morning after finishing it, taking it with her. Curiously, however, Edith Grayston delivered an envelope with large tear stains to Lord Tewkesbury a few hours later that morning.