The Opera Singer's Daughter (A Sherlock Holmes Spin-Off Novel)

Chapter Twelve

There were a handful of visitors for Mr. Holmes that afternoon, one of which was a police inspector. As a maid, I was invisible and went unnoticed by them all. Twice, I took up a tea tray for Mr. Holmes and his guests.

Colonel Forest was in a rotten mood all day, grumbling every time I stepped foot in his rooms. I still hadn't worked out why he had taken a dislike to me. I had never been anything but respectful to him. Did he have a reason for his dislike or was that just the way he was?

When I delivered the luncheon tray to Apartment B, Dr Watson was there alone. "Holmes went out no more than ten minutes ago," the doctor said, hurrying to relieve me of the tray. "It must have been right after you took the Colonel his tea."

"I see." Was that good news? Hadn't Mr. Holmes said it was a multiple pipe problem? Or had the Inspector—or any of the other visitors— had a case that had taken Mr. Holmes out? "Do you need anything else, Dr. Watson?"

"Not at all. Enjoy your meal, Miss Norton. Oh, and I will not be here for dinner, so there won't be a need to bring me up a tray."

It was amusing to see the change in his behavior. While he hadn't been cruel when he had interacted with me while I was a maid, there had been an air of distance. As though he hadn't seen me at all. Now that he knew the truth, he was more aware of me.

Fascinating.

It gave me something to consider as I descended to the kitchen once again. As a young lady, I had seen how women were treated differently from men, even when they were just as capable. Miss Hunter, so intelligent, would be dismissed because of her gender. I hadn't ever considered that a maid would be even more invisible than another lady would be.

Though I had never given it much thought before, I found myself feeling a bit more sympathy for the suffragettes. Mum always followed the news articles, but shook her head over the more radical and drastic actions some of the young ladies took to prove their point.

Miss Hunter, a woman who was one of the most independent female I knew, never brought the subject up. No doubt, she did so to keep her job, but what were her personal feelings?

I shook my head to clear it. Whether the suffrage movement was right or wrong was nothing that concerned me at the moment. Perhaps when I was older I would have more of an opinion on it.

"What has you frowning now?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she set my plate of food in front of me.

"I was just thinking about the suffragettes and how far they've gone to protest and make everyone take notice of them."

Mrs. Hudson shook her head with a tut. "They ought to leave well enough alone," she said as she sat across from me. "Some of those girls make such a spectacle of themselves and for what? I don't understand it all."

"You don't think women should have the vote?"

"It isn't that." Mrs. Hudson frowned as she lifted her fork. "It would be nice enough to have some say in what goes on. At the same time, it seems to me that some of those girls making a nuisance of themselves are only making things more difficult for themselves. What man will think a woman is rational if she starves herself or resorts to violence?"

For someone who said she didn't understand it, she had a very strong opinion. I couldn't deny that her words held a degree of sense. Some of the things I'd heard the bolder suffragettes doing did seem extreme.

"But they think it's worth it, so who am I to say otherwise?" Mrs. Hudson said. "Was the Colonel in a better mood?"

Our conversation shifted to the more mundane matters of the household, which was a relief. With my parents missing, I really didn't need to contemplate the rights of my fellow females, however important it may be.