[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

She was carrying a pair of black stiletto sandals inlaid with rhinestones, or maybe diamonds. She bent down to put on them, and her hair that was hanging down on one side was pulled behind her ears.

She used to not have to learn how to comb her hair, her little boy kept a comb for her.

But now, she has learned everything.

Just still don't know how to get rid of the habit.

Sherlock paused for a moment, then looked at her neck and said:

"Where's the necklace I picked for you?"

Ludwig tied the straps like Latin dancing shoes on his ankles and tied a small bow:

"I'm not very used to wearing that kind of necklace, and it's not going to last long after such a late party, don't bother."

The luxury items in that room are said to be given to her, but they are not hers after all.That set of necklaces and bracelets is worth a lot at first glance. If she loses something from someone else's house, how can she pay for it?

Sherlock folded his arms and kept his eyes on her feet:

"You can't wear no jewelry. Mom will think you're questioning her taste."

His eyes swept across her white ears:

"Where's the earring I gave you? Just wear this. Where do you put it? I'll ask someone to get it."

Ludwig froze for a moment, then pointed to the ceiling:

"Upstairs, I put it... I put it... Sorry, the place where I put it is a bit remote, it's hard to describe, I'll get it later by myself."

Sherlock said nothing.

He stood up straight, walked over to her, and held out his arms.

Ludwig looked at his arm tangledly: "Does it have to be like this?"

There was also reluctance in Sherlock's tone:

"It's an overly cumbersome etiquette for normal humans, but if I don't do it, my mother will definitely tell me that I can't go out... Tomorrow I have to go to Scotland Yard to deal with a child kidnapping case."

Ludwig slowly reached out and wrapped his arms around Sherlock.

Then, before she could react, Sherlock's cool fingers had already reached her ears, and his little fingers lifted the long hair beside her cheeks

He put something heavy and cold on her right earlobe lightly, and with a click, the gears engaged the gears.

...This is the earring Sherlock gave her?

Ludwig turned his head in surprise, but he could only see his side face, reflecting the light of a copper floor lamp, like a vague shadow.

Sherlock's calm voice rang in her ears, no matter how she heard it, there was a slight mocking taste:

"The bedside table on the left is the third from top to bottom, and the second storage compartment from left to right... Do people in the real world think that the location of the bedside table is 'out of the way'?"

Everyone in the Holmes family is very strange today.

For example, when she took Sherlock's arm and walked down the stairs very normally, Mrs. Herras slipped her hand somehow and broke the goblet in her hand.

She clutched her chest, turned around and greeted her husband with tears in her eyes:

"Oh, Christopher, I'm so content right now . . . I'm about to cry with happiness the next moment."

Old Mr. Holmes is still wearing the old shirt he wore when we first met, sitting at the table and eating chestnut cake with a tired expression, and he is too lazy to argue with his wife about his name:

"Fortunately, the place is huge, so please feel free to cry."

Ludwig was puzzled, and asked Sherlock in a low voice, "What's wrong with your mother?"

Sherlock said quietly:

"This year's gin tasted so good it made her cry with happiness."

Ludwig: "...please give me a drink too, thank you."

Sherlock refused without thinking: "Injured patients can't drink, reject."

The doorbell rang, and Old John tremblingly walked over and opened the door.

The British government stood at the gate of the foyer in a suit with the breath of rain outside.

"Oh, mysister-in-law, when I see you again, you are still so beautiful."

He came over and put down his black umbrella rarely, with a reserved smile on his face:

"I received your birthday notice at ten o'clock in the evening, and I had to interrupt the emergency meeting with the Prince of Morocco to come and say happy birthday to you in person—you should feel very honored, our bilateral trade agreement with Morocco is because of you It was delayed by a week."

Ludwig has no shame: "If you agreed to this week's delay, then I believe that this is the result you wanted."

"Well... glad you know me so well."

Mycroft smiled slightly, but then his eyes froze, resting for a long time on her earlobe.

Ludwig touched his ear... There must be something wrong with this earring. The place where Mrs. Heras looked at it seemed to be her ear too.

Mycroft said to Sherlock:

"After the so-called house dance, I wish to have a chat with you."

Sherlock took Ludwig and sat down at the dining table. There were a variety of dishes on the table, a fondant cake standing in the center, and layers of roses, each petal of which was as real as it was.

He was sitting on Ludwig's left, casually looking at the desserts on the table:

"I have nothing to chat with you - Vichy, I want to eat muffins."

Ludwig let go of his arm, and suddenly felt a sigh of relief:

"The muffin is next to you, thank you."

Sherlock curled his lips, his eyes wandered around the dining table, and he landed on the burrito on Ludwig's left hand side, almost unsatisfactorily:

"Then I want an Aberdeen burrito."

Mycroft hooked the corners of his mouth gracefully, and walked to sit opposite them:

"You'll want to talk to me—Miss Ludwig, do you know which is the most famous scepter of the King of England?"

Ludwig brought the Aberdeen Burrito to Sherlock, who was clearly dissatisfied with her inattentive service:

"England has a king? Is it a man? I only know that England has a queen, and I only remember Queen Victoria and Queen Elizabeth."

Mycroft was silent for a second for Ludwig's ignorance, and then said calmly:

"Then I can tell you that the most famous king's scepter in England is..."

Sherlock interrupted them suddenly:

"I'm free from 11:30 to [-]:[-]. If you want to chat, please cooperate with my schedule. If you exceed the time, it will be counted as a vacation."

With a triumphant smile, Mycroft raised his glass to Sherlock, then looked at the chief seat, and said in an admiring tone that didn't look like Mycroft at all:

"Oh Mom, you are so beautiful today."

Mrs. Herras was sitting down wiping her tears, and they dried quickly when she heard Mycroft's compliment:

"Maggie, isn't your mother usually beautiful?"

Mycroft: "Today is especially beautiful... Judging from the style of your new earrings, you went shopping on the Champs-Elysées today, and you also ate small desserts near the Chaillot Palace. I hope you have a good appetite, Mother."

He tapped his fingers on the dining table, slowly:

"And please call me Mycroft."

"Oh, Maggie, are you going to deprive a mother of the right to call her child by a nickname as cruelly as Sherlock?"

Mrs. Herras smiled indifferently and raised her glass:

"Today is to celebrate little Vichy's birthday, and also to welcome her as a new member of our family..."

……new member?How long have they been in love, so I jumped directly into the early marriage channel, what to do, what to do.

Ludwig didn't even hear what Ludwig said later, she calmly wiped her mouthful of cream with a napkin:

"Mr. Holmes, your mother is... enthusiastic."

"Always like this."

Sherlock whispered habitually:

"If she wasn't enthusiastic enough, she wouldn't have forced her to marry her father—you know, my father was only interested in buying the government, and he was buying Greece at the time, and he couldn't see anyone except Mario from Super Mario."

Ludwig struggled to digest the fact that "Mrs. Herras forced the marriage", and then went to see the drowsy old Mr. Holmes, feeling a deep awe.

... This is the man who buys the government. When someone else buys a company, he buys the country. It's really domineering.

It's just too low-key, the shirt looks like it was bought at a discounted stall.

"Your mother is really amazing. If it were me, I would never dare to try to force a Holmes marriage..."

"Why do you want to force marriage?"

A slender fork reached out, and Sherlock forked the komatsuna beef she had just finished with the sauce from her plate:

"My father rejected my mother, and my mother forced the marriage...but I didn't reject you."

"..."

She wisely took this sentence as a joke, and successfully found the real point just now:

"Did you notice that I'm a patient? Eat off your own plate, sir!"

……

Ludwig had been concentrating on the dessert combination of colorful macarons and fresh milk in front of him because his right hand was inconvenient, and he didn't pay attention to what Mrs. Herras said.

until--

"... So, when are you going to get married?... Vichy? Vichy?"

The few people at the table, except Sherlock, were all looking at her.

"Sorry." She raised her head slowly: "What did you just say?"

Mrs. Herras said with a smile: "I said, when do you two plan to get married?"

The spoon in Ludwig's hand almost fell into the fresh milk.

"marry?"

Mrs. Herras didn't mind her faux pas:

"After all, after my remarriage to Christopher the year before last, it's been two years since I've seen a big wedding...I can't wait, can you, Christopher?"

Old Mr. Holmes raised his eyelids: "I have to remind you that we remarried once last year..."

Mrs. Herras said softly, "Just say yes, Christopher."

So old Mr. Holmes continued to bow his head and eat chestnut cakes.

Mrs. Herras looked expectant, while Mycroft looked optimistic.

Ludwig glanced helplessly at Sherlock, who was dealing with a piece of salted fish with a cold expression, and his technique with a knife could be called an art.

It just doesn't mean to save the situation at all, there is no roommate love at all... Well, a slip of the tongue, it's boyfriend love.

Ludwig had no choice but to covertly insert a lamb chop with his left hand.

"We didn't intend to get married so soon."

We had no intention of getting married at all!

And Sherlock calmly took a small piece of lamb ribs and put it on his own plate, his long eyelashes drooped down, covering Wubo's eyes.

Indifferently, as if he didn't hear her words.

"After all, we are still young."

Mycroft picked up the red wine and shook it in his hand.

"I can understand you, Miss Ludwig, Sherlock is cold by nature, arrogant in speech, never caring about the pain of others, taking care of him is as cumbersome and troublesome as taking care of a child...There are few people in this world who can bear him There are very few of them."

The wine in his hand melted and glistened with a pearly luster, just like his tone of voice.

"It's beyond my expectation that you can be together. I don't expect a young girl with a healthy body and mind and normal judgment to hand over her marriage to Sherlock - that kind of future is really terrible, isn't it ?”

... cold in nature, arrogant in speech, never caring about the pain of others, taking care of him is as cumbersome and troublesome as taking care of a child?

"Obviously, you don't know anything about your brother except love."

Ludwig threw the fork into the embossed saucer, made a crisp "clang", and wiped his hands carefully with a napkin.

"If you think Sherlock never cared about other people's pain——then he probably didn't think it was necessary to care about your pain, so he gave you such a misunderstanding."

She raised her head and looked directly at Mycroft with clear eyes:

"During your great twenty-seven years of life, Mr Mycroft, has anyone ever admired you? No? Not one?"

She smiled slowly:

"So you don't understand that in the eyes of those who love you, all your flaws are lovely. All of Sherlock's flaws, in my opinion, are so charming, and his every move is flawless"

She reached out and grabbed Sherlock's slender fingers on the table, and looked at him sideways, with a gentle smile in her eyes.

It was as if she really loved him deeply.

"And when it comes to marriage, we disdain this kind of superficial shackles... The marriage system restricts property, not love. Since I love Sherlock, and since I don't care about his property, why do we bother to ask for it?" One document?"

Sherlock's hand for cutting the lamb chops stopped, and his drooping eyelashes slowly lifted.

The light fell on the lake of his gray eyes, like a fisherman rowing a boat late at night, leaving a dangling little lamp on the lake.

The author has something to say: a small note, in the previous chapters, there was a sentence "to pay tribute to your French love"

This sentence is not original, it comes from a certain line in a Shakespeare work I have forgotten which one

When I was writing, this sentence appeared in my mind, so I typed it. At that time, I didn't remember that this sentence belonged to Shakespeare.

But my sour literati friend quit. I must mark it out, otherwise she will report me for plagiarism.

Still not a friend, is it?Yes or no?