"The Widow" Bertha

Mycroft had a few words with a certain gentleman outside the door, and Bertha, who entered the door first, could only faintly hear the voice of talking with someone, but couldn't make out what they were talking about.

But it didn't matter, the reason why Mycroft stayed outside was to give Bertha time to change clothes.

When he opened the door and entered, Bertha had already changed into a thin nightgown, sat in front of the dressing table, stretched her hands behind her head, trying to untie her tightly coiled bun.

Mycroft closed the heavy door, and the sounds in the corridor died away without a trace.

He stood there looking at Bertha's back for a moment, and then made a deduction: "Do you need help?"

The lady in front of the dressing table made a discouraged voice: "Of course, otherwise, you and I will not be able to sleep tonight."

Holmes chuckled.

The man took a step and walked behind Bertha.This was not the first time he had seen her in a nightgown. Her back was thin and slim, her head was lowered slightly, and her slender neck was exposed, which gave Mycroft an illusion of fragility.

But all the premise is that Bertha must not make a sound or look back, because her slightly hoarse voice and overly gorgeous face are too aggressive.

"What do you need me to do?"

He looked back, and his eyes fell on Bertha's thick bun.

Bertha pointed to her hair in the air: "Help me take it off, Grace tied it too tightly...Damn it."

Mycroft slightly raised the corner of his mouth, and then raised his hand, realizing that what Bertha said was indeed true.

The Jamaican girl inherited long hair from her native mother. Bertha's hair was thick, hard and so long that the maid Grace had to spend a lot of time and effort every day to tie it firmly to Bertha. on the back of Sarah's head.

Grace was away tonight, so Bertha had to do it herself.

Even Mycroft stared at Bertha's bun for a long time before he could determine the way the maid had arranged it, and find the point where it could be undone.

He supported Bertha's bun and pulled the hair ornament a little, so that the jet-black hair poured down like a waterfall to Bertha's waist.

"Is that all right?" Mycroft asked.

"It's just the beginning."

Bertha said, taking a comb from the dressing-table.

Mycroft tilted his head, and then gladly took the comb from Bertha.

"It's not good if my hair is too long. If I don't comb it out thoroughly, I will go to meet people with a straw bag on my head tomorrow... Oh, it hurts! Mike!"

"I'm sorry," Mycroft, who did Bertha's hair, apologized half-heartedly, "forgive me for my unfamiliarity, my dear, but I don't have that much experience in arranging ladies' long hair."

Bertha looked up, and all she could see in the dressing-table mirror was Mycroft's chin.But that's enough.

Grasping the half-smile on the man's face, Bertha let go of her frown and complained softly, "This world is really unfair. Why can men have short hair but women can't?"

You must know that before time travel, Bertha had always had a very lean short hair style.It's not because of good looks or preference, it's simply because short hair is easier to take care of when traveling outside.

"You can talk to Mrs. Fisher about it."

Mycroft seemed to enjoy this almost private conversation, and he even joked with Bertha: "You better make a new plan, calling on women to have the right to vote, and by the way, calling on women to have the right to vote. The power of short hair."

"It's not funny at all."

"It would be better to mark that gentlemen can have hair as long as yours," said Mycroft seriously. "That's only fair."

"..."

Bertha actually laughed out loud.

What an honor that Holmes combed your hair himself?Not only glorious, but also quite intimate, if he didn't really want to do it, he didn't have to do it himself.

Knowing that there is only the two of them in the room now, there is no one else, and they don't need to continue to pretend to be a model loving couple.

But Mycroft enjoyed it, Bertha thought.

She quietly stared at the figure of the man in the mirror, her smile subsided, and her hoarse voice was almost low in the quiet room: "Actually, you can inform the steward of the Minister of the Seal."

"what?"

"Even couples don't have to share a room in public."

Mycroft behind him smiled slightly: "Trouble."

Fine.

This was really the way of Mycroft Holmes--to make a request would be to owe one more favor.In this respect Mycroft was particularly clear.

It is understandable, however, that his occupation and status doomed the elder Holmes to be penny-pinching.

I have to say that Bertha and Mycroft are very similar people. At least Bertha doesn't like to owe favors. If it were her, she wouldn't bother others because of such trivial matters.

Thinking of this, she raised her eyes: "Then aren't you afraid?"

Mycroft said in surprise as if hearing something strange: "What am I afraid of? Bertha, matters between men and women, shouldn't it be you who are afraid?"

Bertha raised her eyebrows: "I just pretended not to understand your sexual hints, my dear."

Unexpectedly, Mycroft, who did not respond to the previous flirting, said bluntly: "That's what I mean, Bertha. You want to take down the Whitechapel area, which can be described as ambitious. If you are pregnant at this time, it will definitely be against you. The plan had a huge impact."

Bertha paused when she heard this.

"Oh?"

She turned her head and looked at Mycroft's real face: "Then you mean, it will be fine after I take down the Whitechapel area?"

The man behind him didn't respond.

He still had the usual posture: well-dressed, upright, with a face that could be called a standard gentleman, with all the politeness and politeness that happened to be everywhere, it seemed that he was very close to Bertha, yet so far away.

The only difference was that Mycroft was holding a strand of Bertha's black hair in his hand.

Holmes sent the black hair in his hand towards him. He slightly lowered his head and sniffed it gently, and asked without answering, "You use rose hair oil, don't you?"

"how?"

"Smells like the perfume you used to wear."

"I'm not wearing a rose-scented perfume today."

"Naturally," Mycroft nodded, "but you have. Roses, lilacs, and gooseberries, may I be mistaken?"

"..."

Bertha immediately understood that he was talking about the night when she successfully "surprised" Mycroft and stole a kiss.

He remembered correctly.The perfume Bertha used was indeed such a few fragrances.It's just... I remember it so clearly.

Remembering the perfume she used so clearly proves that he remembers that kiss so clearly. Does this mean that the man in front of him who always has the same expression is not as indifferent as he appears?

She raised the corners of her mouth: "The marrow knows the taste, huh?"

Mycroft didn't look at Bertha, his eyes stayed on her lock of black hair. After the downcast man averted his eyes, even though he still had an impeccable social posture, in Bertha's view, his His expression was almost ice-cold.

"Actually, dear," said Mycroft slowly, "I never understood what you were asking for."

"This is really a rare thing," Bertha said in amazement, "There are still things you can't figure out..."

Oh.

In the middle of speaking, Bertha suddenly realized.

Of course he couldn't figure it out.It wasn't that Mycroft Holmes wasn't smart enough, or that he had been stumbled by his brother's stronger brain, but that Bertha hadn't even thought of asking for anything from it.

In the final analysis, it is still a question of the ideological gap between the nineteenth century and the twenty-first century.

If Bertha’s family is normal, or if she is still an unmarried lady, no matter how rebellious Bertha’s nature is, she will not be able to make many waves. For women in the nineteenth century, the constraints they suffered came from the root. , starting from the family.

But Bertha has no family. Strictly speaking, she is a "dead person" now, and the two identities she possesses are both fake.

And Mycroft's thoughts are very similar to those of modern people, causing Bertha to get so comfortable with him that she forgets that he is also a Victorian.

A person's thinking can transcend the times, but the moral concept stops here, even Sherlock Holmes will be influenced by it to some extent.

From the basic inference results, he thought that she was trying to seduce him like other ambitious women.

A more direct method is to reach a closer cooperative relationship by climbing the bed.Promising love, marriage, procreation, or even simply sitting on the lover relationship between two people will make their short-term alliance stable and long-lasting.

But from another point of view, Mycroft Holmes clearly understood that such a result would affect Bertha's plan, not her character.

The conclusions made from the two angles reached diametrically opposite conclusions. The majestic Sherlock Holmes was like a sophisticated machine. There had been no program conflicts for a long time, but a problem suddenly appeared, which made him unable to determine Bertha's real motive.

This "conflict" is that Holmes ignores Bertha and doesn't care at all.

She didn't care at all if she could continue working with Mycroft: keep going if you can, break up if you can't, what's the big deal?If you can't hold this golden thigh, you can't fight on your own.

As for flirting and ambiguity, to be honest, who wouldn't feel good about such a perfect gentleman in front of him?Bertha was like walking into a bar in the 21st century, and there was a handsome guy standing in front of her, and she just had a casual conversation, she didn't think so much.

Unexpectedly, Bertha's "casualness" made Mycroft confused.

How should I put it, does this count as cleverness and being mistaken by cleverness?

Bertha couldn't help laughing, and when she looked at Mycroft's cold expression, she even saw a bit of cuteness - she couldn't figure it out, so she put on this expression of the big devil, and tried to scare her off.

"Some things are that simple, Mike," said Bertha. "Believe it or not, it's just what it seems."

Mycroft gave no more than a sideways head.

Obviously he didn't believe it.

Bertha couldn't help asking curiously: "Since that's the case, aren't you afraid of what I might do by taking advantage of the intercourse?"

Mycroft smiled.

This smile made the Holmes brothers all the more alike, and that grim smile, with a touch of haughtiness, was enough to answer Bertha's question: he knew she couldn't.

Of course she won't.

If Bertha really wanted to seduce Holmes with some purpose, then she had to be more careful. This man's bed was not easy to climb, otherwise it would be Bertha's turn.

Thinking of this, Bertha also laughed out loud.

"Then wait until the day you figure it out for yourself," she said. "Don't blame me for telling you the answer, Mike."

His long hair has been combed, and it must be said that Mycroft has a strong learning ability.Apart from hurting Bertha the first time, there was no further trouble after that.

Bertha took the comb from Mycroft's hand: "Sleep, dear, do you sleep on the left or the right?"

This is what it means to end the topic.

Naturally, Mycroft would not continue to entangle, he let Bertha take the wooden comb in his hand: "Of course the lady chooses first. Are you ready?"

"Then I'm going to sleep on the left side."

The woman in front of the dressing table stood up, she turned around, her long combed hair was black and bright, almost reflecting light under the moonlight at night.

Bertha touched the side of her lips and raised a smile: "Honey, the moment you and I step into the manor, the good show will begin."

***

The next day, early in the morning.

The Lord Chancellor's manor is beautifully furnished, at least it's spacious enough.It was so spacious that Bertha and Mycroft shared the same bed without any embarrassing or ambiguous physical collisions.

Bertha was awakened by a scream, followed by the noise of soldiers.

She opened her eyes suddenly, propped her body up, and her black hair slanted down.The man sitting by the bed turned his head following the sound, and saw that the girl who was still asleep just now had woken up. Mycroft stretched out his hand and brushed her broken hair that covered her sight. His broad palm lightly touched Uncle. Sha's hair was pulled back a little, and the man's fingertips gently brushed against the edge of her ear.

The gorgeous face was a little cool, but Mycroft's skin was warm.

Although Bertha disliked her hair very much in her words, she felt that they were thick, hard and unmanageable, but when the morning light shone in, the black hair coated with a layer of light luster added a bit of softness to her , softening the sharp breath that always existed on Bertha.

Even the perfect girl described by the masters of neoclassicism is not as charming as her.

Mycroft allowed his fingertips to rest against the side of her face for a few seconds.

It is not only to remember her temperature, but also to take a few more glances and keep the impeccable picture in front of me.

Bertha raised her eyes, and met the gaze of the man who had been fully dressed for a long time and was sitting by the bed.

"Go out and have a look?" Mycroft withdrew his hand and suggested calmly.

He should have just returned from a walk outside, and the soles of his feet are still stained with a little morning mud.The elder Holmes shook off his overcoat and put it on for Bertha. The two went out directly, and found that many gentlemen and ladies who had just woke up looked more embarrassed than Bertha.

"what happened?!"

Sir George Lancaster, Lord Chancellor, hurried over and stopped a panicked maid: "What happened?"

"Lang, Dr. Lang..."

The young maid was obviously frightened, and with the support of other maids, she tremblingly said: "Killed!"