Work Text:
“Tewksbury," Enola called to the gentleman in her kitchen, who hovered over a tea kettle and poured himself a cup.
The man in question startled slightly before blushing and returning the polite greeting, “Enola,” he paused to set down the kettle and twist to face her, “you’re awake.”
“That I am,” she yawned, still matching his smile. She crossed the room to look over his shoulder, “pour me a cup?”
“Take this,” he offered, passing her the cup he intended to drink himself, “I’ll pour another.”
“Thank you.” She delicately kissed his cheek and then perched upon a chair in her small combination kitchen and dining room.
“Of course, my love,” he flashed her a smile as he took a seat across from her, mostly because her tiny dining set had but two seats, but also to admire her unaltered and freshly awoken face.
Enola, too, took in her lover, quite the handsome sight — to her at least. To others he may have appeared disheveled and unkempt, but Enola happened to like him that way. She especially liked what had caused his hair to fight over which direction to face, his white, button-down undershirt to be so incredibly wrinkled, and the look in his eyes to be so playful yet frightened at the same time.
The pair glanced up at each other before awkwardly looking away like smitten schoolchildren. Tewksbury attempted to stifle his laughter while Enola embraced it.
“So I take it our amorous pursuits have yet to cause your demise,” Enola smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“I suppose not,” Tewksbury replied with the last of his remaining composure after almost spitting his tea across the table.
“I told you not everything needed to be saved for marriage,” Enola asserted quietly, teasing Tewksbury’s leg with her foot.
Tewksbury had buried his head in his hands in a poor attempt to hide his blush. If he tried to say something, all Enola heard was a strangled groan.
“My dear,” she grinned tenderly, pulling Tewksbury’s soft hands away from his horribly flustered face.
As much as he tried, Tewksbury struggled to meet her gaze, his eyes darting away every time as he was overwhelmed with a combination of guilt and giddiness.
“Darling, it’s alright,” Enola assured him.
“How will I ever look anyone in the eye again knowing what I’ve done?” Tewksbury joked, answering his own question by finally returning Enola’s gaze.
They both chuckled softly, Tewksbury stroking her hand with this thumb.
“You’re sure you’re alright?” he asked, eyes innocently searching hers.
“For the thousandth time, Tewkey, I’m just fine. In fact, I’d say I enjoyed it.”
“Good, good.”
“How about you?”
“Oh, me? Erm…” Tewksbury gazed off, a pleased grin spreading itself across his lips. He was returned from his memories by the growing warmth in his cheeks. “I- it… it was wonderful, Enola,” he whispered with a genuine, sweet smile and a look in his eyes just as loving.
Enola sipped her tea and smiled at him over the brim. They sat there a while, thoughts of youthful temptation and playful rebellion replacing words in the space between them.
The silence began to grow uncomfortable, Enola staring into her cup and chewing on her lip before abruptly standing to clear the table. Tewksbury leaned back in his chair, eyebrows furrowed as his gaze followed her suddenly tense figure from the table to the sink. She began scrubbing their dishes vigorously and in doing so splashing water across the countertop. Tewksbury appeared behind her, his breath brushing against her ear and his hands planted firmly on her hips.
“What’s the matter, my sweet? Do the teacups owe you money?”
Enola exhaled a short laugh and dried her hands before turning to face her suitor. The weight of her anxiety was washed off her shoulders as she leaned into the safety of his arms. With her head on his chest, she could hear his heart race nervously. She thought of when he had asked if they could marry and his whole body seemed to vibrate from the thrum of his heart against his rib cage. She thought of their kisses, his promises of her freedom and protection even when married. She thought of her initial reluctance and how he had an answer for each one of her concerns. She thought of all this when she looked up at her Tewksbury and murmured, “I want you to propose.”
Eyes widening in disbelief, Tewksbury exclaimed an astonished, “What?”
“I would like you to propose.”
“When? Like… now? Soon?” Tewksbury rushed excitedly.
“Soon,” Enola answered, unable to prevent her mouth from curving upwards.
“Really? You’re serious?” He asked, grasping her shoulders, too elated to realize how roughly he did so.
“Completely.”
“Enola!” He exclaimed as he pulled her into a hug and then a brief, sloppy kiss, “We’re going to get married!”
/~/
But a week later, Enola found herself puzzled by a strange sort of miniature scroll pushed through the mail slot of her office. She inspected its exterior carefully, reminding herself one can never be too careful. She sat at her desk, opening the two other envelopes left on her floor first, saving the most intriguing for last. Finally having sorted through the other mail, she eagerly removed the tie keeping the scroll’s shape and unrolled the message. It read:
Dearest Miss Enola Holmes,
Your presence is requested at the Central Garden for an evening stroll at seven o’clock in the evening on Tuesday, the sixteenth of June. I will meet you at the bench by the pond. Your attendance is of the utmost importance.
Yours,
Lord Viscount Tewksbury, Marquess of Basilwhether
Butterflies filling her stomach, Enola stood to search the room for something to do with her shaking hands. Immediately she knew what this invitation was about. With a date now set, the reality of the situation sunk in further. She began to worry about how she would dress, not because she particularly cared, but because she wouldn’t want to make Tewksbury look bad by proposing to an unimpressive woman. As she searched for the perfect dress, she didn’t once think back to the scroll, nor its tie made out of a small loop of twine.
/~/
Tewksbury fiddled with his cufflinks, needing to relax his hand from its death grip on the carefully crafted bouquet of deep purple larkspur and white roses. The parchment wrapping the bouquet was already terribly crinkled and damp from the sweat of his palms. He wiped the wrapping against his sleeve, then shifted his grip higher, soothed by the unfamiliar coolness. He checked his pocket watch, confirming it was, indeed, nearly seven o’clock, but he supposed ladies weren’t granted the means to check the time regularly. Or at least that’s what he told himself to settle his nerves, which were largely his own fault. Arriving an hour early gave him plenty of time to worry about what could go wrong, stretching out time into long, endless strands and growing his anticipation.
When he saw her, he both exhaled in relief and felt the nervous lump in his throat stiffen. She was a far ways off still, but Tewksbury could spot her from anywhere. He tapped his chest to ensure the ring was still tucked safely in his pocket. Whether she saw this movement or not he was unsure, but he assumed she had already deciphered his intentions as any good detective would. As she approached, closer and closer, her slender figure adorned with a delicate light pink gown became clearer and clearer. He rose from his seat once she was a few steps away and smiled at her bashfully, attempting to respectfully scan over her body while hiding his lingering glances at the parts of her he knew he shouldn’t be so familiar with.
“Enola, you look absolutely stunning,” he breathed, and true it was.
Enola, happy to hear his approval, felt herself blush and glanced down at her fidgeting hands. Her attempts at more advanced make up techniques landed her with a reflection she didn’t recognize and a mess all over, so needless to say she washed all of it off, only reapplying some rouge to her lips due to her high success rate with the medium. Her choice of dress was a difficult one, but if Tewksbury was pleased then so was she.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Tewksbury,” she smiled, taking a few small steps closer.
“These are for you,” he beamed, handing her the bouquet, “I’m sorry if the parchment is damp.”
Enola only chuckled and thanked him before leaning in to smell the flowers. Tewksbury smiled at this and held out his arm, which she promptly took, and they began to leisurely stroll along the path that bordered the sizable pond in the park.
“Do you remember,” Tewksbury began, “when we first met in the train carriage?”
“How could I not?” Enola laughed lightly, utterly captivated by his dazzling eyes.
“We were so young then…” He trailed off, only pausing his reminiscing to study the beautiful woman by his side.
“Yes, you’ve changed quite a bit… might I say for the better.”
Tewksbury blushed. “You as well.”
“Do you remember when you smuggled me out of that horrible school?”
“I do.”
She turned to him and smiled as they continued their stroll.
Tewksbury cleared his throat, hoping to channel the confident facade he had cultivated due to his public position. “I loved you even then, Enola. I’ve loved you since you first showed me your assertiveness and I fell deeper in love when you showed me your compassion, and deeper yet when I experienced your gentleness. How long I’ve agonized over you, Enola! The years I’ve spent worrying for you, pining for you. I never thought you could return the feeling. I couldn’t imagine you courting anyone, especially a nincompoop like me.”
Enola chuckled at this, a knowing glimmer in her eye. “I couldn’t either. It seems you’re simply too irresistible.”
Tewksbury was completely thrown by this, blanking on the rest of the speech he had planned over the last week.
She squeezed his hand, urging him to continue.
He straightened and breathed deeply, “I’ve dreamed of dancing with you, running off into the forest with you, protecting you, even though I know you don’t need my protection.”
Enola nodded her head cheekily.
“I wanted to kiss you so badly that night in the bathroom, Enola. I thought I might die when you asked me to teach you to dance and I felt like I had when you came close to me and let me lead, be useful to you for once and not the other way around. You’ve done so much for me.”
Enola looked to their feet, hiding how flattered she was.
His voice breaking only slightly, Tewksbury added, “I love you.”
He then halted at about a quarter of the ways around the pond and turned to hold her forearms.
“I’ve dreamed of this, Enola, of proposing to the love of my life.”
Enola shifted her focus away from the manicured foliage around them to his nervous eyes and grinned up at him. He gently released her arms from his grip and lowered himself onto one knee, pulling a shining ruby ring from his coat pocket. Enola couldn’t help but (embarrassingly) giggle from joy.
“Miss Enola Eudoria Heddassa Holmes, before I met you, I painfully accepted the idea I would need to marry. Little did I know all I needed was an outspoken, confident woman both courageous and foolish enough to jump off a train with a boy she just met to change my view entirely. Now I look gladly to a future with you, if you’ll have me. It would be an honor to make you my wife, to make you the first marchioness detective in all of London, and to commit myself to this future with you that will undoubtedly endanger my life more than once. So, Enola, my dearest, would you do me the greatest honor and agree to marry me?”
While hiding her tears behind her hands, Enola said nothing but nodded aggressively, ignoring Tewksbury’s outstretched ring and pulling him into an embrace. She hid her tear-stained face in his neck and felt some small tears drip down hers. She could’ve buried her face in his skin forever, but he gently pushed her away and shakily pulled a handkerchief from his suit to wipe the streaks of tears off her face.
“I hope those are tears of joy, love,” he smiled.
“I’m just so overwhelmed, Tewksbury. Not necessarily in a negative way, I- I just don’t know what to make of it all,” she smiled, pulling him back to her embrace.
“Trust me, dear, I’m still in disbelief that you kissed me in that carriage, let alone that you’ve agreed to marry me.”
“I don’t think I could live a life without you,” she admitted into his shoulder.
He pulled back and beamed at her. After a pause he asked, “So do you want the ring or not? I’d really prefer that you have it— it’s an heirloom too beautiful to be locked up in a chest any longer.”
“But… what if I lose it?” She asked shyly as he took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a bit snug, perhaps due to her callouses.
“You don’t have to wear it all the time, just when we’re seen together.”
She took a moment to admire the thing— a gold band with a square red ruby, smaller than she would have expected from Tewksbury but then again it was only an engagement ring. It appeared sturdy and well maintained, and she couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Tewksbury obsessively polishing and cleaning it. She never cared much for luxury goods, but the generations of love and Tewksbury’s dedication were palpable in the ring, in a way that sent a wave of affection over her. She had a feeling she’d be wearing it more than just in public.
/~/
“I can’t believe I’ve just signed up to attend a ball once a month,” Enola chuckled as they walked back to his apartment side by side
“And I can’t believe I’ve signed up to fear for your life once a week,” Tewksbury joked back.
“Well, no one’s killed me yet!”
“Neither has a ball…” he smiled.
“Touché,” she grinned back, nudging him with her hip.
They lingered in comfortable silence for a moment before Enola leaned into Tewksbury’s side to quietly say, “How’d you like to spoil our wedding night just a bit more before there’s nothing left to be spoiled?”
He smiled and looked down at his feet, “Yeah.” He whispered, his voice tense with the knowledge he had once again broken the code his family had held him to.
After giving his hand a final squeeze, she lifted her dress to her ankles and took off in a sprint towards his apartment. At first he hesitated, but before long he was holding his top hat and laughing as he chased after her. The two of them ran, becoming shadows in the dim light of the setting sun.