Chapter Eleven

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The next day, Robin dressed in her favorite spring green dress again. She was more serene than she'd ever felt, and highly enjoying the sense of inner peace she'd had since Sherlock had agreed to their marriage.

She had anticipated a quiet day in the sitting room with her aunt while they waited for him, but it was not to be.

When he arrived, a bouquet of pink roses in his hand, he was surprised to find the house in disarray. Robin was waiting for him, and she smiled apologetically as she pulled him aside so they could talk privately.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly, reaching out and squeezing her upper arm. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Holmes," she assured him. "But I am afraid your proposal must be delayed. My cousin Daphne is in trouble, and I fear I must ask you for yet another favor."

"You can ask me for anything, Miss Ballard," he informed her. "We are to be married, which makes the Bridgertons my family."

She blinked up at him and several tears appeared in her eyes. "That is very generous, Mr. Holmes."

He smiled, letting his hand slide down her arm so he could clasp her fingers. "Tell me what you require."

She took a deep breath and explained. "A truly odious man, Nigel Berbrooke, is threatening to trap Daphne into marriage. He approached her while she was alone at a recent ball and was most inappropriate in his attempt to get her to accept his proposal. Now he is planning to use the brief time they were alone to cause a scandal if she doesn't say yes."

"And you need something to use against him to force him to stop," Sherlock realized.

"Yes. Aunt Violet and I are inviting his mother to tea, and the servants in the kitchen are going to attempt to extract some gossip from hers, but if that doesn't work, we have to have something else in reserve."

"I'll find it," he promised her. "Everyone has secrets."

"Indeed," she sighed, gazing up at him. "Thank you so much. I feel terrible asking you for something more so soon."

"Don't, Miss Ballard, please," he implored her. He glanced around and then lowered his voice. "This may not be a love match, but we are friends, are we not?"

She nodded. "Of course, Mr. Holmes."

"Then you may ask me for anything and never apologize for it," he said gently.

"Thank you."

She squeezed his fingers tighter. He stood there, holding her hand and staring into her eyes, quite suddenly unwilling to let go.

They were interrupted by Violet, who stopped short when she came into the room. "Oh, Mr. Holmes," she gasped. "I'm so sorry. I will not have time to speak to you today."

He shook his head and turned to her. "Don't apologize, Lady Bridgerton. Miss Ballard has requested my assistance in your matter, and I am happy to help. I will return once I have something for you."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Holmes." Violet placed her hand over his, which was still holding Robin's. "I very much wish we didn't have to postpone our talk."

"As do I. But it is a noble cause that balks us."

"It is. Oh, Mr. Holmes, if you could help my daughter, I would be forever in your debt."

"That will not be necessary, Lady Bridgerton, but thank you."

Violet stepped back, removing her hand from his. He removed his from Robin's, albeit reluctantly. "I will leave immediately, but first." He presented the pink roses to Robin. "These are for you, Miss Ballard."

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