The Case of the Season

Chapter Twenty-One

The next few days were downright magical, as far as Robin was concerned.

Following Sherlock's swift and decisive removal of her father from the house, he had immediately gone to the village and spoken to every single resident to find out what they could do for Norland Park. The estate was supposed to be the center of the village and provide the majority of its commerce, and she just hadn't been able to do that, of course.

But now that she had Sherlock, she could.

Many people had shown up for good, paid work. The grounds were being tended to and the house was being cleaned. The stables had been restored and several fine horses were now living there, along with a full staff. Simple construction was being done, and Sherlock had already written to experts in London who would be along shortly to do the more complicated tasks.

In addition, Robin had gone through everything currently in the house and decided what to keep and restore if necessary, what to give away, and what was unsalvageable. The villagers were reaping the benefit of the fact that she didn't want most of her father's furniture, clothes, and other personal belongings.

There were finally more than enough servants in the home to care for it properly, and Robin was making sure they were cared for properly as well. Several had written to relatives who needed employment, and all the cooks were coming from elsewhere, so she was in charge of the kitchen until they arrived.

Sherlock snuck into that kitchen just as she was finishing baking a plum pie for him. He took a deep breath and smiled appreciatively, going to her and grabbing her waist. He pulled her in for a kiss and she submitted for a moment before pulling away.

"All for you," she said, setting it in front of him as he took a seat.

He raised an eyebrow as she removed her apron and hair covering and brushed herself off. "Where are you off to?"

"Betsy wants to see me. Eat your pie." She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "I know you haven't eaten anything all day."

"I've been too busy," he reminded her, cutting a large piece and lifting it to his mouth. "Mmm. Your plum pie is the best I've ever eaten."

"You can have it whenever you like. I'll be back soon." She turned to go, then paused and turned back to him. "You have been working so tirelessly for me, Sherlock. Thank you."

"You've been working too," he pointed out.

"Yes, but you are paying for everything, and you have already gone above and beyond the call of duty," she insisted. "All of this is... so wonderful."

He smiled at her softly. "It is only what you deserve, Robin."

"Perhaps," she acquiesced. "Either way, I will be thanking you for it very thoroughly tomorrow night, after our wedding."

He flushed and narrowed his eyes at her. "You're such a tease," he murmured.

She giggled and curtsied slightly. "We must spend only one more night apart, Sherlock. After that, no one can keep us away from each other."

As she disappeared around the corner, he shifted slightly in his seat and coughed. A day felt like an eternity to him in this regard. He wanted her to be his.

He closed his eyes and willed time to speed up so that he didn't have to wait as Robin went to meet Betsy in the study. She looked at the woman curiously as she noticed that the midwife, Meg, was with her as well. "What did you want to speak to me about, Betsy?" she inquired.

"Sit, Robin," Betsy urged. "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Robin repeated, taking a seat as instructed.