[Shen Xia] Britannia Rose

One o'clock in the morning.

The sound of water in the bathroom stopped abruptly. Isabella put on clean pajamas, and took the cotton bathrobe on the hanger before going out. Except for a pair of round feet, she wrapped herself tightly from head to toe. .

It was already midnight before returning to Pall Mall after finishing Sherlock's affairs. She was sure that this time was a normal rest time for Mycroft, but for her, it was too late.If it wasn't for taking a hot bath to warm up her limbs again, Isabella would already be so sleepy that her upper and lower eyelids would be fighting.

The hot air mixed with the looming aroma of rose shower gel twitched Mycroft's nose. He was leaning on the bed in the bedroom with his head lowered and concentrating on his laptop.His expression was very serious, as if he was dealing with some urgent matter.

Isabella poked her head out of the bathroom furtively. Seeing that McCoff was busy with business and had no time to take care of herself, she tiptoed along the wall in an attempt to get back to the next room.

Although in terms of time, it has been a while since she moved to Pall Mall Street, but with the messy things during the graduation season, she also lived in the school dormitory and the manor on BlackRock Avenue for a long time. As far as how long I lived on Pall Mall, it was no more than two weeks.

What's more, in the past two weeks, most of the time when she was resting in the master bedroom was completely staggered from that of the owner here.

It was often in the second half of the night when she was falling asleep that the seat next to her would be gently lifted, and an embrace with the warm steam from the bathroom would quietly embrace her.When the sun rose in the morning and Isabella opened her eyes, the other half of the bed facing her must also be neatly packed, as if no one had ever rested beside her.

So, like today, it was the first time that the usually empty side of the bed was occupied by someone, and that person put on a gesture of "I'm just waiting for you".

Isabella suddenly felt a lot of pressure.

Mycroft frowned, and he flipped through the computer documents very quickly, as if he was completely immersed in his work.

"Isabella," the man raised his eyes quickly, and stopped the dawdling girl. Isabella froze when her name was called. He smiled and reminded me in a good-tempered manner, "Excuse me, I have to warn you...the guest room hasn't been used for a long time, and I'm not sure if there are some cute and furry little things inhabiting those little corners."

Thinking of those furry arthropods and their green eyes, Isabella felt a chill.

"No," she said forcefully, "I just went downstairs to get a hair dryer..."

Mycroft bent down and opened the bedside table. A small hair dryer lay quietly inside. He motioned her to take it away with his eyes.

"...Okay." Isabella stared at him for a long time, and she really wanted to say that it was definitely his intention, but the man only said this and then turned his attention back to the computer.

The hot air from the hair dryer baked her wet blonde hair, and the smell of conditioner and essential oils was blown all over the room by the hot air. The hot air brushed the back of her neck and brushed her shoulders and back, wrapping several layers of Isabella Finally, on the verge of heat stroke in summer, she tore off the belt of the bathrobe, and she casually threw the bathrobe on the chair, wearing only a dark red silk nightdress.

Mycroft closed the computer. He was dealing with the taxi driver's affairs just now. Moriarty's influence has become more and more excessive, and has already touched the core interests of the United Kingdom. He cannot sit idly by.

The roar of the hair dryer stopped, and Isabella glanced at Mycroft. She gathered her soft blond hair, and carefully lifted the thin quilt from the other side of the bed and got in.

"The hair is still wet," Mycroft concluded with just a glance. "It's prone to headaches."

"Well, it's okay," Isabella shook her head, "The hair dryer is too loud, you have to get up early tomorrow morning."

"The busiest time has passed. I think even a small civil servant in the British government should have his own vacation."

Isabella poked her head out from under the quilt, and Mylady leaned over and kissed her forehead lightly. He said in a deep voice like fine wine, "Good night, Mylady, you can open your eyes tomorrow morning. see me."

……

The morning light slipped mischievously through the gaps in the dark brown flannelette curtains. As Mycroft said, Isabella opened her eyes in the morning and saw the tall man coming out of the bathroom in full clothes. man.

Perhaps because he was not too busy with business, he was wearing a comfortable three-piece casual beige suit. Seeing Isabella woke up, he naturally sat sideways on the side of the bed and said with a smile, "Good morning."

"Good morning, Myc," Isabella rubbed her sleepy eyes, still in a dazed state of just waking up, "What time is it?"

"At 35:[-]," Mycroft glanced at his pocket watch. "Breakfast is ready. Besides, your school luggage has been delivered to Anthea. Would you like to check it again?"

"Oh, okay." She lifted the quilt, picked up a tulle coat at the end of the bed and draped it over her shoulders, "I'll go right away."

Breakfast was the most traditional British style, fried eggs, bacon, and some vegetables and beans. Mycroft sat across from him and focused on typing on the computer.Isabella finished her breakfast quickly, quietly pushed the undrinkable milk to McCoff, and tried to sneak away.

"Remember to come back and finish drinking later."

Isabella looked pained, "No, it doesn't taste very good."

"But it's healthy," Mycroft said without looking up.

Isabella will not be obedient, she walked around behind the man who was working hard, and asked curiously: "What are you doing... eh?! This seems to be an invitation letter from the royal family?"

Mycroft raised his eyebrows, noncommittal, "The Spanish royal family is visiting the UK, and by the way, your sister—Princess Beatrice has also returned from the United States."

"Another boring banquet?" Isabella dragged her voice out, "Remember to push it away for me."

"Over the years, I have promoted countless events like this for you," Mycroft clicked the mouse, and another page popped up, "Morocco, Greece, Jordan..."

"Isn't that bad?"

Mycroft smiled and reminded: "These banquets are irrelevant, but next week, the wedding of His Royal Highness Prince Harry, you can't cancel it?"

"...God," Isabella pinched the bridge of her nose and waved her hands with a headache, "It's all kinds of nobles and politicians again, well, I don't want to think about such long-term things anymore, I'm going to pack my luggage. "

Mycroft shrugged, closed the computer, and made himself a cup of black coffee.

Anthea had packed all her things neatly into two suitcases, and Isabella took them out and put them back into the big suitcase that McCoff had prepared for her.

"Where are these books? Is there room for your bookshelf?" Isabella reluctantly held a pile of books, ranging from astronomy to logic, but the most numerous were her professional books—some economics books. Book.

"Of course," Mycroft took the book in her arms, turned and walked into the study room that looked like a small British Library, "Is there anything else you want to put?"

"Well...not for the time being," Isabella buckled the suitcase, and suddenly, a beautiful card fell out of the clothes, and she stepped forward to pick it up in doubt, "What is this?"

The card was filled with "MISSME?" in blood-red ink, and Isabella felt terrified. She noticed that there was a capital "M" on the signature, so she asked the man in the study loudly, "Myc , did you write me any postcard?"

"No," said Mycroft.

Isabella looked at the card suspiciously, put it under her nose and smelled it, the smell of ambergris and oak moss was not too strong, a little bit of patchouli and pineapple suddenly jumped out, in her When I got closer to smell it, it disappeared and was replaced by a faint smoky smell.

Very flamboyant, high profile perfume.It doesn't look like McCauf's style at all, it seems that the signed M is someone else.

Mycroft came over and saw that she was staring blankly at a card, so he frowned and asked, "What's wrong?"

Isabella didn't speak, but handed the card over.

The man's calm gaze suddenly changed when he touched the final signature, and the sharp peaks of his eyes seemed to burn through it. With a light snort, Mycroft tore it to pieces without hesitation.

"You know who it is." Isabella said firmly.

"It's for your own good." Mycroft still didn't want to say more.

"You say that every time," Isabella said dissatisfied, "every time you hide it from me, but it has obviously begun to invade my life, and I have a right to know all this."

The man's posture showed that he would never give in. Mycroft said slowly: "He is very dangerous, and you can't handle it."

"...Well, if you don't want to tell me, forget it," Isabella said sullenly, "someone will tell me anyway."

Mycroft stood at the entrance, watching Isabella hastily changed her clothes, put on her high heels and left.

He knew where Isabella was going.

But he didn't stop it.

The author has something to say:

Harmonious Jinjiang, drive carefully.