deal or no deal | Sherlock Holmes

12

𝐸𝓋𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

"Are we almost there?" I whine.

Sherlock snickers patting my knee. "Yes just a few more minutes."

"I can't wait to get this over with." I pinch at my waist. I've practically lost all feeling in it. I never wear corsets but I didn't want to deal with Miss Harrison's judging looks, though she'll give me those anyways. "I can't breath in this thing." I wish I were joking.

"Then why did you wear it?" Sherlock asks.

"Because I have to look like a lady if I want to satisfy Miss Hairyson." I roll my eyes.

"You're your own person you shouldn't change for an old woman." He suggests.

Tewkesbury pops up from the back of the carriage. "He's right. Besides real ladies wear gloves." He teases making me roll my eyes.

"Ahh there it is." Sherlock sighs as we approach the enormous school. Though it looks more like a prison. His expression changes and he looks to Tewkesbury. "Get in the basket."

The boy sighs and climbs into the basket. "This is unbelievably comfortable."

"Don't you mean unbeweaveably." I snicker and slap my knee. "I crack myself up." The boys shake their heads, Tewkesbury lowers the lid.

The carriage comes to a stop, Sherlock steps out first and holds my hand as I step out. "Oi! Boy!" He calls to a gardener outside. The young lad drops his shears and walks towards us. "Could you take this inside to Enola Holmes' room?" He looks at the basket in shock before hesitantly nodding. Sherlock hands him some money and he perks right up.

"Did you really have to pick the smallest of all the boys?" I question him, he holds his elbow out and I grasp it.

"What? A man has to get muscle at some point. Might as well start now." He shrugs. I shake my head at him and we enter the building.

"Ah. Mr. Holmes." I turn my head to see Miss Harrison. She checks her pocket watch. "Right on schedule."

He nods at her. "Always."

She takes a glance at me then at Sherlock and I's linked arms. I drop my arms and she finally looks at me. "Nice to see you again. I don't believe I caught your name when we'd met." I know she's lying, I was very mean to her.

"Evangeline Flemington." I nod.

"Pretty name." She nods before looking back to Sherlock. "Enola is in her room. If you'd follow me to my office I can bring her down."

"That would be great." We follow her up the stairs. We pass young ladies, they wear a frown and hideous black dresses. I'm so glad I was never sent to finishing school. Like Enola my mother taught me herself. You don't need to go to a crummy school to know how to act.

"My office is down there. I'll have her here in a moment." Her heels click as she walks down the hallway.

I go around to the desk and plop down in the chair. I see a spare pair of reading glasses on the desk. I glance at Sherlock who's examining the bookshelf. I snatch the glasses and place them on the tip of my nose. I take a glance at her lesson plans. Yikes. This is ridiculous. I grab a newspaper and hold it in front of my face.

"No wonder Enola didn't want to come here." Sherlock grimaces. "The book selection is awful."

"Any Louisa May Alcott?" He looks through the shelves before shaking his head. "My goodness! You've practically damned her to hell."