Page 111 of The Hollow of Fear

Half an hour later, he rose to take his leave. “If you are still in the area by Christmas, Sherrinford Holmes and Mrs. Watson are more than welcome to the archaeologists’ party at Stern Hollow.”

She shook her head. “Thank you for the very kind invitation, but we probably will not extend our stay at the cottage again.”

“Of course,” he said, “Sherlock Holmes’s livelihood is in London.”

Silence fell.

A weight pressed down on her lungs. She was... reluctant to say good-bye. As reluctant as she had been the afternoon he headed out to be arrested.

And you think this won’t have repercussions?he had asked her before they’d made love for the first time.

At the time, she’d responded with something breezy and blithe. But perhaps his had not been an idle concern. Perhaps for her the repercussions were only now making themselves felt as regret and a sense of loss.

“I have something for you,” he said, holding out an envelope and peering at her at the same time.

She raised a brow. “If it’s payment for Sherrinford Holmes’s services, you will need to speak with my bursar, Mrs. Watson.”

“That will be seen to. But this is not pound sterling.”

“Oh?”

She took the envelope, unfolded the piece of paper inside, and, after a moment of stunned silence, burst out laughing.

On the paper he had copied, two dozen times in his own handwriting, the original and unsanitized version of the pangram she had composed for him years ago, which referred to an act that most certainly had been known in Sodom and Gomorrah, pre–fire and brimstone.

“So you did commit that to paper—repeatedly, too,” she said, still smiling.

“Several of my pens burst into flames, my library smelled strongly of sulfur, and I am frankly scared,” he said, also smiling.

She folded the paper carefully. “I will treasure this token of your regard,” she said, meaning every word.

He inclined his head. “Good day, Holmes.”

When he was already at the door, she heard herself call out, “Wait!”

He turned around.

For a moment her mind went blank—and then she knew exactly what she want to say. “I have my sisters to think of, and you your children. But if—if someday the conditions should be conducive, would you like for all of us to go away together? Spain, Majorca, Egypt, the Levant? By the time we reach India, it will probably be unbearably hot in the plains, but the hill stations should still be pleasant.”

He gazed at her, as if he couldn’t be sure he’d heard her correctly. And then a smile slowly spread across his face.

“Yes,” he said. “I would like that.”

Epilogue

Alas,Lord Ingram’s gathering lasted only three days. All too soon Livia found herself back home, where no one paid her any attention except to point out her numerous shortcomings.

Chief among which, according to her mother, was her inability to attract a husband.

But an “opportunity” was at hand. The Holmeses were hosting Sir Henry’s new business associate for dinner. Lady Holmes lectured Livia on and on about the importance of making a good impression.

“He and his family have been abroad a long time so they don’t know about... our scandal. If you have an ounce of sense, Olivia, you will try to get yourself noticed by this gentleman. Goodness knows I’m tired of taking you to London Season after Season.”

Whenever her father tried a new venture, the family grew poorer. Sir Henry possessed no judgment at all—it would be a miracle if this new associate wasn’t a swindler. Abroad, her arse. That he didn’t know about Charlotte’s scandal only meant that they wouldn’t know anything about him either.

And she was supposed to smile at and flatterhim?

Lady Holmes made Livia don her most fashionable dinner gown and spent an hour fussing over Livia’s hair, unhappy with every style Livia tried. By the time Livia sat down in the drawing room to wait for this man’s arrival, she was convinced she was at the beginning of one of the most execrable evenings of her life.

And then the drawing room door opened and in walked Stephen Marbleton.