Chapter Seven

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Adelaide quickly looked away from the knife, trying to determine the best way out of this situation. She wasn't sure if it was Martin who tried to kill her, but he had a similar build and the same knife.

"I'm suddenly not feeling all too well. I think I should get home to rest. I can make the trip back on my own. Have a nice day Mr. Edwards." She stood up and began to walk away. He quickly caught up to her and wrapped his arm around her. She could feel something pressing into her ribcage on the opposite side of him. He was holding something in his hand against her.

"Make a single sound indicating you're in trouble and I will stab this knife into your lung before you can finish your plea. Now act normal or you'll meet the same fate." Her breath hitched, but she stared straight ahead, desperately trying to figure a way out of this situation.

"It was you."

"Of course it was me. Why else do you think I would want to marry you other than the fact it would be easier to kill you and I would receive your dowry? Now, be a good girl and guide me to your apartment. We are packing your bags and returning for our wedding. We'll push it up to tomorrow." For a moment, all she felt was annoyance with Sherlock and herself. He was right, despite how much she hated admitting it. He was right that there was something wrong with Martin. He was right and she was wrong. Despite how much she hated when that was the case, she would do just about anything to hear him say those very words to her right now. That the only worry she had to deal with was the fact that Sherlock would rub in the fact that he knew better than she did. However, here she was, a knife angled for perfect access between her ribs straight into one of her lungs. It was likely that more than her pride was about to be hurt. Oh how she wished these past few days had been nothing more than a nightmare, and she would wake up in her bed in London and talk to Sherlock about how strange it was.

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. At first, dread flooded Adelaide. They weren't currently on speaking terms and didn't know if they ever would be again. Maybe that would help her convince the detective she was in trouble. He was probably still upset with her, especially now that she was in the wrong, but she decided it would be better to deal with his frustration with her while alive than from beyond the grave. They got closer and closer to the dark-haired detective as he walked down the street. At last, he noticed her, giving her the opportunity to speak to Martin.

"That's my neighbor. I have to speak with him or he'll know there's something wrong. He will come to check on me if I say nothing while being practically dragged to my apartment." She flinched as his right arm jerked, thinking he was going to stab her right then and there. Maybe he was, but decided against it. He held the knife tighter against her, making sure that no one could see it.

"Don't forget, one cry for help and I'll kill you where you stand."

"Understood." She spoke with a fake smile, making it seem to people watching that they were simply having a lovely chat. "Sherlock! It is so wonderful running into you here. This is my fiancé, Mr. Martin Edwards." Sherlock reached out his hand, but with the knife in his hand against Adelaide, he just looked forward, not moving his hand. Sherlock awkwardly withdrew his own. "You were right about Mr. Edwards, he truly is a wonderful man." A look of disagreement spread across Sherlock's face and she gave him a harsh glare.

"Yes, I've heard wonderful things about you. A few close friends of mine went to school with you and said, despite not knowing you well, that you were a great man."

"I've always dreamt of marrying such a man." She looked over at Martin, hoping it was the expression of love that she was trying to show and not one of fear like she truly was feeling. She looked back to Sherlock, hoping he picked up on her pleading eyes and not Martin. "I can't wait to see you at the wedding. I know that you'll make our happy day even brighter!"

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