KINDRED. ━ enola holmes. ( ✔️)

VIII. A VISIT.

•••

IN ALL HONESTY,  the Viscount Tewksbury, Marquess of Basilwether was the least of her concerns. Most them revolved around how she was going to spend the rest of her life if she continued living it away from home, or on how she was going to live once Enola had finished her own quest. But the most plaguing concern? 

How she felt about Enola Holmes.

It was an intense emotion- something that filled her senses with a warm, mushy feeling every time she looked (or even thought) of Enola. Almost as if it was love, and who knows maybe it was, but it couldn't have been anything more than platonic. Because anything more then that was wrong. She couldn't feel that way towards a girl. It wasn't right.. Even just to think about. 

All it was, was friendship and gratitude.  Nothing more, nothing less. 

Either way, it didn't matter much in the current moment. The carriage had just arrived at Basilwether Hall, or more notably, Tewksbury's place of residence. This was the first step in finding the boy. Not that Vivienne was particularly elated about visiting another one of these stupid manors, she had already had enough trauma from the past few times she'd attended events in places like these. She didn't say anything to the girl next to her about it, though. She didn't want to make a fool of herself by stuttering out some incoherent words. She didn't plan on saying anything, at least not for a while. Not until she could sort the new feelings she had out.

She looked anxiously out the window, before turning back towards Enola who sat with a stoic expression, facing forward, a veil drawn over her face. Vivienne wasn't dressed as fancily as she was, however. She wore trousers and a blue vest to bring her extra warmth due to here thin button down not doing the job correctly. Her costume was an assistant to the girl next to her who had dressed up as a widow. 

"When looking to travel incognito, it's safest to travel as a widow. People are always anxious to avoid conversations about death." Enola had said. "Widows scare them, and there's no better disguise than fear."

As they arrived in front of the home, Vivienne took a moment to gather her wits before they began their walk to the door. Both the girls shared a slightly nervous look, but they soon turned away from each other as they were taken to the lady of the house. And as the doors clicked shut behind them, they were only getting more nervous by the second.

•••

"WHAT'S YOUR BUSINESS HERE?" A man- Sir Whimbrel, she believed he was, asked. He walked in with the other two ladies of the house, all of them carrying themselves with nobility.

"I'm a private detective," Enola spoke calmly, she then gestured towards Vivienne, "and this is my assistant. We've come to offer our services."

They all paused, faces morphing into an array of expressions, before the man spoke again. "My sister-in-law has all the help she needs. Show her out."

"I believe I can help you." Enola fidgeted, her expression faltering slightly before she regained her stance. Vivienne stayed quiet.

"You both are reporters for one of those dirty newspapers." Tewksbury's mother finally spoke. Her head jutted forward out of anger, her eyes filled with fire and disgust. 

"I am a lady detective!" Enola reciprocated the action, her eyes darting between the three of Tewksbury's family members.

Lady Tewksbury rolled her eyes. "Please leave," one of the servants came forward and grabbed them both by the forearm, "before we make you leave."