Just as Sherlock had predicted, Watson found himself on a train with his friend, making the long journey from London up to the north. Given that Sherlock had informed Lord Royston that the chances of him being next to be robbed by the Knave were almost guaranteed, the master of the usually considered impregnable stately home, had not only invited them to his daughter's mascaraed party; but had also asked the respected detective and the highly decorated ex-soldier to ensure that the security around the stately home was sufficient to make the thief think twice. And to watch over the wellbeing of the young lady.

"That's interesting." John suddenly mussed more to himself, as he perused the copy of The Times that was gripped in his hands.

"What's interesting?" Sherlock enquired absentmindedly with a roll of his eyes, as he looked out of the railway carriage window, at the countryside flying by. Only half interested in what the doctor might have to say. His thoughts more preoccupied with what would meet them when they arrived at the Royston House, and the detection and apprehension of the Knave.

"There is a piece here about the Royston family and Lady (Y/n). Apparently, she was taken during her time in Europe. The kidnapper held her for some time and demanded quite a hefty price for her return. A price that her father quickly conceded to pay, despite the authorities advising him not to. She appears to be a very interesting, and strong-willed woman. From what it says, once she was returned, instead of coming home to England, she insisted on finishing her schooling; determined to not let the miscreants ruin what she had worked so hard to achieve. Quite brave for a young lady. And quite an achievement, talking her father into letting her remain abroad after such a thing. I must admit that I find myself intrigued at the prospect of meeting this young lady." John explained, as he handed his now slightly interested friend, the paper. Sherlock scanning over the lengthy article about the Royston family. Only stopping as he got to the part about the lady (Y/n). The consulting detective strangely finding himself hoping that the illustrated picture of the lady, was a fitting representation.

"Beautiful, isn't she? Though from what I have heard, the picture doesn't do her justice." John chuckled as he watched his friend. Sherlock trying to pretend that he had no idea what the doctor was talking about, as he folded the broadsheet and placed it on the seat next to him.

"What?.......Oh, Lady Royston. Yes......yes, I suppose that she is. Though I noticed there was no mention of a perspective husband. I believe that the son of ........."

"Oh no, the Lady Royston is not betrothed. Though I am sure that Lord Royston will be using the ball that he has organised, to find a suitable suitor. And I should imagine that he will be spoilt for choice. From all accounts, the lady (Y/n) is charismatic, charming, strong and kind-hearted. In fact, I have heard that there was more than one crown prince of Europe that has lost his heart during her time in Paris. There has even been talk that a member of our own royal family has his eye on the lady. But you know how London society talks." John interrupted. The detective quite surprised that the ex-army doctor seemed to know so much about the young woman in question, than what had been printed in the paper.

"You know. This case could actually turn out to be much more interesting than I first thought." John added with a chuckle, as he watched Sherlock pull his Calabash pipe out from the pocket of his coat. The detective puffing on the freshly lit smoking apparatus, as his eyes turned to look at the rolling English countryside beyond the first class carriage's window. His view only marred by the occasional billowing cloud from the steam engine's chimney.

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

The journey from the train station to the stately home of Robert Royston had been a comfortable one to say the least. The carriage and driver that the lord had sent to pick up the detective and the doctor, were well appointed. And Watson didn't need his best friend's deductive powers to know, that the landeau would have cost more money than most of those that called the dark and dirty streets of London home, would ever see in a lifetime, as the scent of brand new leather and imported wood filled the ex-soldier's senses. Taking him back to all the far flung reaches of the empire that he had seen during his service.

"Royston House is coming up now, sirs." The driver called out, as the carriage drew up to the long drive that led to the magnificent home of the Royston line. The pinkish hue of the old stones from which the home was built, seeming to blush slightly in the early evening sun. The whole scene appearing quite radiant, as the landeau and its passengers, made their way up to the sprawling building.

"Gentlemen." An elderly man greeted respectfully, as the driver drew the panting black horses to a halt and held open the carriage door for the two men to exit.

"I am Willum, Lord Royston's butler. His lordship is expecting you and is waiting in the sitting room. If you would care to follow me, I will ensure that your luggage is taken to your rooms." The grey-haired man informed Sherlock and Watson, gesturing for the two to make their way in through the great doors, as footmen scurried around behind them, taking their bags from the carriage driver.

"Ah, Mister Holmes and Doctor Watson. Such a pleasure to finally meet you both." A large, rotund, red cheeked man said, as the butler opened the old oak door to the sitting room. The two men making their way into the room that smelt heavily of fine cigars and even finer malt whisky.

"I have read a great deal about your cases, Mister Holmes, but never thought that we would actually met, or that I would be in need of your services." Lord Royston continued, as he made his way over to the pair and shook their hands.

"I must admit that it was quite a shock to receive your unsolicited telegram, Mister Holmes. But given your reputation, and the obvious urgency of your message I believed that it was best to invite you to stay, so that we could discuss the possible crime that it is to be perpetrated against me by this rogue the Knave of Hearts." The lord added, as he poured himself another large glass of spirits. Both Sherlock and John nodding gratefully, as the older man handed them a glass each. Gesturing for them to take a seat on one of the heavily upholstered couches.

"Willum. Will you please inform my daughter that our guests have arrived." Lord Royston told the butler. The old man bowing deeply as he turned and left the room.

"As you may know, gentlemen. My daughter has been through much in her life, and I want to ensure that she remains as safe as possible now that she has returned to me. I do not want her harmed by the Knave, especially at the festivities in her honour. The head of my security, Joshua Caine was a sergeant in the Guards before he came into my service, will be in charge of the men in the grounds. But I am hoping that you will both be able to advise him, and that you will agree to be my daughter's escorts to the celebration." The lord explained, a small smile coming to his lips as the excited voices of two young women could be heard in the corridor outside. The door to the sitting room being opened by a small, mousey haired woman, before an exquisite and elegant creature entered. A woman of such beauty that even Sherlock thought that he must have died and gone to heaven. Both he and John watching, as she made her way over to the lord, and took the hand that he offered her.

"Mister Holmes. Doctor Watson. I would like you to meet my daughter, (Y/n)." The lord announced. Both Sherlock and John knowing that this case was definitely going to be more interesting than either of them could have believed.