Dinner............(Y/n) had to confess that she saw getting all dressed up just to have dinner with her father, as a little ridiculous. Yes, it was expected; yes, it was what was done in their circles. But her father sitting at one end of the table dressed in his best dinner jacket, while she sat at the other looking as thought the queen herself was about to drop in, sometimes seemed a little much; but at least with their guests, the whole thing felt a little more normal. The lady having to confess that both the detective and doctor looked very dapper. (Y/n) sure to tell Bess all about it in the morning.

As usual, when it got closer to dinner, Bess had gone home to care for her father after helping (Y/n) to dress. The lady wishing that her friend could have stayed yet knowing that her still recovering father needed her far more. That, and she knew how much Bess worried; more so since she had come back from her ordeal. And the last thing that (Y/n) wanted, was for Bess to overhear Mister Holmes and Doctor Watson discussing something about her concerns and what she believed.

"Perhaps we should adjourn to the billiard room, gentlemen. I have been told that you are fond of a good pipe, Mister Holmes......" Lord Royston said, as he finished his second glass of port.

"You wouldn't mind, would you my dear?" He continued, as he slowly got to his feet, and looked at his daughter. (Y/n) smiling, as her father made his way over to her, and kissed her softly on the forehead.

"Of course not, father. I was going to retire to my room anyway; but first, I think that I will go and get a little air. It is such a beautiful evening." The lady replied, as she too rose from her chair.

"Mister Holmes, Doctor Watson. I wish you a good night........." She continued with a nod. Smiling broadly, as the doctor quickly made his way to the door and opened it for her. His eyes only leaving her vanishing figure, as he heard an unamused cough from behind him. John not sure whether it had come from the lady's father, or Sherlock.

"Well, then.........the billiard room.............." The lord continued, both he and the consulting detective giving the doctor a look, as they moved through the open door, and made their way down the hall.

                                                    >>--------------------------------------<<

(Y/n) wrapped her fur stole around her shoulders, before she made her way to the bay doors; opening them and letting some of the night air into the room, before she stepped out into the garden. Slowly she closed her eyes and basked in the light of the moon that hung heavily in the sky above the noble house, its gardens and the woods beyond. All night she had felt him watching her, his eyes never leaving her form. She knew what he was doing, he was trying to deduce her; to understand everything he could about her. The lady not sure whether it was to help him understand more about what she had been through, and the man that she had seen; or if he was doing it for some other reason. A more personal reason. Not that she minded either way, for there was something about those eyes of his; eyes that at once were cold and seemingly unfeeling, yet then, appeared to hide a fire that was just waiting to become a blaze.

Suddenly she heard something. Yes, noises were not an unusual thing, the bark of foxes; the hissing and spitting of warring cats that had been thrown out of their homes for the night. Even the odd flutter of bat wings or screech from the owls that liked to live in the old oaks that shaded the well-manicured lawns in the summer. But this, this was something different. Something that she didn't think was of the night.

Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. She knew that perhaps she should go and find her father; should go and speak to Sherlock. But she felt that she had to prove something to herself. To prove that she was not scared; that no matter what she had been through, no matter the mysterious man that seemed to have been following her, she was as strong as she had ever been. That she would not let those that had taken her, destroy her spirit. And if it was a drunk Joshua Caine, this time she would do what Bess' father had taught her, and punch the vile man square in the face.

Carefully she moved away from the lights of the lounge room, the lady just glad that the moon was so full. The soft, pale light flooding the scene. She didn't know what to expect; in fact, she had just begun to feel rather foolish, sure that she would find nothing but some rabbits nibbling on nasturtium leaves. Or maybe even a badger that had strayed too far from the local set; the lady happy that she hadn't called on her father, or the visitors to be her knights in shining armour. Sure, that they would think that she was some silly woman if she had, and they had found nothing but something small and fluffy.

Slowly she made her way around the corner, she had come too far to turn back now, and curiosity had gripped her. The breath leaving her lungs, as without warning, she was faced with something that she had never expected; the lady seeing a form lying flat out on the floor before her. Crimson staining the pale shirt and floor beneath the body. She wanted to scream, to shout; to call for aid. But nothing appeared to want to leave her, the world feeling as if it would stop, as she saw the face of the man; Joshua Caine's dead eyes looking up at her.

Without warning, she found herself wrapped tightly in a pair of arms; her head resting on a chest. The familiar smell of her father's cigars filling her senses, as she realised that she had screamed; that tears were rolling down her cheeks, as the lord did his best to comfort her.

"May I suggest that you take the lady inside. And doctor, I think you have a patient............" (Y/n) heard, before finding herself quickly taken back into the hall.