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delphiTitle: A Study in Coral
Fandom: The Enola Holmes Series
Characters/Ship: Mycroft Holmes & Cecily Alistair/Enola Holmes
Rating: General
Word Count: 500
Content Info: n/a
Summary: In which Enola and Cecily take a walk in the garden and Mycroft isn't nearly as observant as he thinks he is.
Notes: See end of ficlet for additional note. Available on AO3.
July, 1892
It takes neither protracted study nor unusual powers of deduction to conclude that Lady Cecily Alistair has been a virtuous influence upon Enola. For Mycroft Holmes, it is enough to spare a glance at the pair as they take an appropriately sedate turn about the garden.
Summer has come to Ferndell Hall, and for the second year in a row, poised precariously on becoming tradition, the three surviving members of the Holmes family have congregated for a weekend to discuss the management of the estate. The detente is still fragile; blood was nearly drawn over the matter of restoring the grounds, and Mycroft’s accounting clearly refutes any argument for the hiring of more vigorous help to support Lane and Mrs. Lane in a house scarcely occupied. Nevertheless, for the moment there is peace.
The weather is as warm and still as might be expected for the date and climate. Roses, snapdragons and nasturtia perfume the air along with feral honeysuckle, encouraging the passing drone of bumblebees. In the shade of the porch, Mycroft snacks on poppyseed cake and sips his lemonade whilst reading the newspapers couriered from London that morning. Sherlock is indoors, occupied with writing a letter to Dr. Watson. And Enola, for once, is not intent on turning his hair white.
"—but Malatesta's premise seems to be—"
He looks up sharply from his copy of The Manchester Guardian, his eyes momentarily narrowing. University study is certainly not to be credited for Enola's recent domestication. The lectures at Oxford have done nothing but exacerbate the feverish tendencies of her female brain. His sole comfort in that regard, thank goodness, is that both his own thorough inquiries and Sherlock's rather more involved surveillance have revealed not the slightest whiff of any inappropriate association with young men.
No, by all reports, Enola has at least spared the family the embarrassment of a conventional scandal, and Mycroft can only hope that her unfortunate susceptibility to Mother's influence has now found a more suitable fount from which to draw.
He considers Lady Cecily, her arm entwined with Enola's despite the difference in height between them. She is an acceptable example of her sex as he understands it: small and fair, well turned out in modest fashion. She is soft-spoken, her murmur inaudible beneath Enola's more strident tones, and as Mycroft watches, she seems to take great care in surveying the full assortment on the rose trellis before reaching out with her gloved left hand to twist a coral one free from its vine.
Standing on her tiptoes, she tucks the flower into the band of Enola's hat. Enola appears to blush at the gesture and presses a kiss to her friend’s cheek before likewise pilfering a coral rose, carelessly barehanded, to adorn Lady Cecily’s hat to match. The two giggle girlishly, and while such a sound is mildly vexatious in excess, it reassures Mycroft to see their minds occupied by simple, innocent pursuits.
Perhaps there is hope for his sister yet.
(Mycroft would do well to read up on this newfangled floriography craze: coral roses symbolize desire.)
Fandom: The Enola Holmes Series
Characters/Ship: Mycroft Holmes & Cecily Alistair/Enola Holmes
Rating: General
Word Count: 500
Content Info: n/a
Summary: In which Enola and Cecily take a walk in the garden and Mycroft isn't nearly as observant as he thinks he is.
Notes: See end of ficlet for additional note. Available on AO3.
July, 1892
It takes neither protracted study nor unusual powers of deduction to conclude that Lady Cecily Alistair has been a virtuous influence upon Enola. For Mycroft Holmes, it is enough to spare a glance at the pair as they take an appropriately sedate turn about the garden.
Summer has come to Ferndell Hall, and for the second year in a row, poised precariously on becoming tradition, the three surviving members of the Holmes family have congregated for a weekend to discuss the management of the estate. The detente is still fragile; blood was nearly drawn over the matter of restoring the grounds, and Mycroft’s accounting clearly refutes any argument for the hiring of more vigorous help to support Lane and Mrs. Lane in a house scarcely occupied. Nevertheless, for the moment there is peace.
The weather is as warm and still as might be expected for the date and climate. Roses, snapdragons and nasturtia perfume the air along with feral honeysuckle, encouraging the passing drone of bumblebees. In the shade of the porch, Mycroft snacks on poppyseed cake and sips his lemonade whilst reading the newspapers couriered from London that morning. Sherlock is indoors, occupied with writing a letter to Dr. Watson. And Enola, for once, is not intent on turning his hair white.
"—but Malatesta's premise seems to be—"
He looks up sharply from his copy of The Manchester Guardian, his eyes momentarily narrowing. University study is certainly not to be credited for Enola's recent domestication. The lectures at Oxford have done nothing but exacerbate the feverish tendencies of her female brain. His sole comfort in that regard, thank goodness, is that both his own thorough inquiries and Sherlock's rather more involved surveillance have revealed not the slightest whiff of any inappropriate association with young men.
No, by all reports, Enola has at least spared the family the embarrassment of a conventional scandal, and Mycroft can only hope that her unfortunate susceptibility to Mother's influence has now found a more suitable fount from which to draw.
He considers Lady Cecily, her arm entwined with Enola's despite the difference in height between them. She is an acceptable example of her sex as he understands it: small and fair, well turned out in modest fashion. She is soft-spoken, her murmur inaudible beneath Enola's more strident tones, and as Mycroft watches, she seems to take great care in surveying the full assortment on the rose trellis before reaching out with her gloved left hand to twist a coral one free from its vine.
Standing on her tiptoes, she tucks the flower into the band of Enola's hat. Enola appears to blush at the gesture and presses a kiss to her friend’s cheek before likewise pilfering a coral rose, carelessly barehanded, to adorn Lady Cecily’s hat to match. The two giggle girlishly, and while such a sound is mildly vexatious in excess, it reassures Mycroft to see their minds occupied by simple, innocent pursuits.
Perhaps there is hope for his sister yet.
(Mycroft would do well to read up on this newfangled floriography craze: coral roses symbolize desire.)
(no subject)
Date: 2019-11-14 10:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-11-15 12:00 am (UTC)If you're at all interested in mysteries/historical fiction aimed at a younger audience, I definitely recommend this series. I know the market's oversaturated with Holmes pastiches, but this one legitimately has a lot to set it apart. The main character is Sherlock and Mycroft's much-younger sister, whose late in life arrival was a scandal for their mother, and who grows up half-wild on the family estate until the day her mother suddenly disappears.
It's not didactic issue-fiction by any stretch, but it is a well-researched and unabashedly feminist look at how the business of solving mysteries would play out differently if someone with Sherlock and Mycroft's genius (and even the benefit of their racial/class privilege) happened to be female in that time period. Like, the issue of public bathrooms for women in London is seriously a recurring plot thread. Enola's an engaging young protagonist, the series features some great cameos from actual 19th century figures, and I'm pretty sure all three Holmes siblings are low-key established to be queer, which is always a bonus.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-11-15 12:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-11-15 12:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-11-16 02:05 pm (UTC)Also, the setting. *sigh* Perhaps it's because it's really gloomy November weather today where I live, but I could smell the flowers and sense the July heat. Wonderful little ficlet! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2019-11-16 08:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-11-17 11:08 am (UTC)"The year consists of 16 months. November,
December, January, February, March, April,
May, June, July, August, September,
October, November, November, November, November".