chapter eighteen

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chapter eighteen, off to the races

EMILIA HAD BEEN UP IN the early moments of the morning, worrying about what to wear and what way to style her hair

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EMILIA HAD BEEN UP IN the early moments of the morning, worrying about what to wear and what way to style her hair. It had taken her a full hour to get dressed, picking out a a blush coloured velvet dress, it was light and for once, Emilia had left the corset at home saying she couldn't be bothered.

 It had taken her a full hour to get dressed, picking out a a blush coloured velvet dress, it was light and for once, Emilia had left the corset at home saying she couldn't be bothered

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She had breakfast in the tea room for the first time that day, Madam Pince greeeting her with the largest smile Emilia had ever seen on her. She had decided on a simple half up half down look, her hair curled overnight with the ribbons she used.

When she had finished breakfast and was walking through the entrance hall, she came face to Sherlock Holmes, who was running a hand through his hair as he had just entered through her door. She smiled before walking over to him, he then realising that and a smile covering his lips also.

"You look amazing." He said, admiring her dress as she blushed at his compliment.

"I'd argue I look amazing all the time." She teased, giving him a small smile. "Well, what do we have planned for today?" She asked, looking up to him.

"The races." He replied, "The train leaves in a bit so we can head on over now." He said, looking to her with a smile.

And so the two left through the entrance doors, grinning largely together as they made their way down to the train station.






CHATTER WAS HEARD from across all of the arena, Sherlock had booked into the premier suites which included, an open bar, full three star meal above the race track and private bathrooms unlike down below were everything was portable.

He had bought them drinks before moving over to the seating area and sitting down right up at the front seats seeing as not many people were there. "I think that horse is my favourite." She said, pointing towards a white one with splodges of grey colours as if they had been painted on.

"I think that one ought to be mine." Sherlock said, pointing towards a chestnut coloured horse that looked as if it were as fast as a cheetah. "I've got my pick on him for the win."

Emilia took a minute looking over the horses before pointing at a black one, "Look at that one though, it looks like it would go very far." She spoke, both of their eyes settling on the athletic one. "I think everyone will be betting on them two to be honest."

"It does look like that." He responded, his smile turning towards her where she was back looking at the white and grey horse. "We could go look at the horses after, I'm pretty sure you are allowed to after the race has ended."

She nodded her head a toothy smile on her face as she took a sip of champagne that had been handed about by workers all over. "I really think that everyone will place their bets on the raven one, but in the end it will only get second or third." She said, nodding her head towards the horse again.

"Mhm," Sherlock nodded, "I do think the brown one will win first place." He said then, looking over to the one he had thought would come through.








IT WASN'T LONG UNTIL the race horse began, the raven one was first all through the racing up until it had slowed down near the end and instead the chestnut horse Sherlock had bet one came striking up to the finish line in first place. The couple cheered for the horse, clapping their hands before being told the premier guests could soon go and meet the horses after they rested for a few minutes.

Half an hour later, they were allowed out into the ring. As people had made their way towards the winning horse, Sherlock made his way to the white and grey one making Emilia smile largely before running after him. Sherlock soon started petting the horse who was tied up to one of the posts, Emilia then coming up behind and copying his action.

"Aren't you a cutie." Emilia gushed, smiling down towards the horse as she pet their mane, Sherlock stood smiling down at the girl before looking behind at a shout behind them, a stout looking man stood in front of them with what looked to be a camera, he had a notepad and pen in hand and seemed to be calling out for him and Emilia to be turned.

"I think the man wants a photo." He laughed, tapping the girl and nodding his head towards the man. Emilia imiditately turned her head, seeing the man with the camera and laughing also.

"Smile!" The man called, using his hands to show the large smile on his face, making the two laugh as a sharp light flashed through the room, the man then grinning at the two, nodding his head enthusiastically, "Perfect! Beautiful couple!"

"Oh no we're not." Emilia laughed, looking over to the man, Sherlock thinking a quick 'yet' before joining the conversation again.

"Could I get your names for the London Luncheon newspaper?" He asked, nodding his head with a large smile on his face.

The two gave their names before the man let out a squeal like sound as Sherlock said his name, almost jumping up and down with excitement while shouting, "Front cover!" repeatedly, "are the two of you courting?" He asked, making Emilia give him a confused look at the outright question.

"Please, sir today is not a day for the press, thank you." Sherlock said politely, guiding Emilia away from the man with a hand resting on her waist.

"Do people ask you questions like that all the time?" She asked, still shocked at the intruding question. "You handled it really well though."

"Yes, journalists love to get their nose stuck up something."























SHE HAD SAID HER GOODBYE'S to Sherlock as he left her off at the La Croix, a quick hug and kiss on the cheek as it was the most socially acceptable thing to do seeing as they were not courting.

A few letters were given to her from the front desk, three to be exact. One from Jane and Dorian, One from Louis, she could tell by his scrawny writing that he never perfected as he almost always hated handwriting lessons and a letter from her mother.

It was funny how she could tell who the letter was from depending on what way they wrote her name, Janes was always with hearts on the 'i's, Louis was his handwriting and her mother's were for the way she would loop the 'a'.

She had left for her bedroom, opening up each letter before finally getting to her mother's, inside was a notice that she had fallen terribly ill and needed her to come back home immediately as her uncle insisted in case it was her last few days with them.

And so, back to the countryside and to the Tewksbury estate in grave worry she left London, reminding herself to write Jane back as she would most likely see Louis at home, and a letter to Sherlock Holmes explaining her quick departure.

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