The Case of the Season

Chapter Eight

Sherlock straightened abruptly, holding her in his arms for a moment before he let her go. He made sure she was steady on her feet before stepping back.

His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but then he snapped it shut, turned, and quickly departed.

Robin closed her eyes and cursed softly to herself. She couldn't believe she had asked without giving him any warning.

She could only hope that he'd be willing to listen the next time they spoke, whenever that might be.

Suddenly, Violet was beside her. "My dear, what happened? Why did Mr. Holmes leave so suddenly?"

"He recalled business he had to attend to, Aunt Violet," she lied smoothly. "His profession requires him to keep odd hours, after all."

"Oh, of course."

Robin could tell that Violet knew she wasn't telling the truth. She was a clever woman. But she was also clever enough not to ask for the moment, though she probably would if she became worried enough. Robin fully expected her aunt to sit her down for a serious conversation about the world's greatest detective soon.

She hoped she would have something happy to report by then, but she would have to wait and see.

"Well, come join me, please," Violet said, taking her arm. "The refreshments are absolutely lovely. The lamb and the cheesecake are positively exquisite."

"I would love to try them," Robin announced. "Let's go."

She comported herself well for the rest of the night, but Sherlock was always in the back of her mind.

She hoped she hadn't ruined everything.

Her worries were still plaguing her the next day, when she accompanied Violet and Daphne to promenade. She was feeling much more like herself in one of her favorite dresses, which was a lovely spring green muslin decorated sparingly with yellow and purple flowers she'd embroidered on the edges of the sleeves, neckline, and skirt.

She glanced around, not really expecting Sherlock to be there, but hoping he would be nevertheless. She desperately wanted to make sure he understood that she hadn't just completely disregarded everything he'd told her previously.

She sighed when she didn't see him, but kept a slight smile on her face so no one would suspect that she was disappointed.

She was surprised when someone came up beside her, and even more surprised when she turned her head and saw that it was him.

She stopped in her tracks. "Mr. Holmes!" she exclaimed, a little too loudly. "I'm very glad you're here," she rushed on more quietly before he could say anything. "Please, let me explain myself. It's not what you think."

She was shocked when he simply nodded. "I imagined there was more when I thought it over, Miss Ballard. Please accept my apologies for my hasty departure last night. I was simply not expecting your request."

He held his tongue so he didn't tell her exactly why he'd left. He'd tried to respond to her last night with a logical answer, he really had, but in the moment, with her in his arms, all he'd wanted to say was yes.

It was a fact that honestly frightened him. He was not a man prone to emotion, and an attachment would only hinder him, even if it was to a woman as exceptional as her.

But he found it was even harder to keep his head around her now, when she was back to being her normal fetching self. Her lips were once again pink, the colors she wore much softer and suited to her.

Her scent was back to normal as well. Last night she had smelled like cherries and cinnamon, an odd combination he had assumed was chosen to match her gown. But now her intoxicating aroma of lavender and rosemary surrounded him and made it difficult to think.