Charlotte stood on the stairs, looking down at the two drenched figures by the door.
Her gaze first landed on Mary, carefully scanning her from head to toe.
Mary was in a terrible state. Soaked to the skin, her hair clung to her face, her dress stuck to her body, the lace trim hung limply and dripped water, and her boots were covered in mud.
Even so, she stood with her back straight, wearing a polite smile as though she were an elegant guest who had just finished attending a salon.
Charlotte's gaze then moved to Russell. He looked even more disheveled than Mary. He was only wearing a white shirt and vest, both completely soaked.
"But I am curious why the two of you would travel all the way from Kensington to Baker Street in such heavy rain instead of staying indoors."
Charlotte spoke slowly, then turned and headed back to her own room.
"But first, dry yourselves off."
With that, she returned to her room.
At the same time, Mrs. Hudson heard the commotion and came out from the living room.
"Charlotte, do we have guests?"
As she spoke, she walked toward the door, then stopped in surprise.
"Well, Russell, and this is…"
Mrs. Hudson was momentarily at a loss for words. She clearly hadn't recognized Mary at first.
"Mary Morstan," Mary said with a light curtsy. "Mrs. Hudson, I'm terribly sorry for intruding."
"So you're Miss Mary," Mrs. Hudson said once she realized who it was. She quickly stepped forward. "Come in! Why are you both so soaked? Russell, you didn't even think to find somewhere to take shelter from the rain…"
"It's my fault."
Mary smiled without faltering and gently cut her off. "I was the one who dragged Russell out. I'm sorry for worrying you."
"Alright, alright, let's not talk about that anymore."
Mrs. Hudson waved her hand.
"You're both drenched. Go upstairs quickly and change into dry clothes.
Russell, take a hot shower first. Don't catch a cold. Miss Morstan——"
"Mary is fine."
Mary smiled. "Since you're older than me, please call me Mary."
"Understood, Mary."
Mrs. Hudson nodded. "Your clothes——"
"I brought some."
Charlotte reappeared at the landing, holding neatly folded clothes.
She descended the stairs slowly, her dark gray nightgown swaying gently, and stopped in front of Mary.
Mary raised her face and met her gaze.
She was soaked, but her back was straight and a polite smile remained on her lips.
Charlotte wore a nightgown, her hair was messy, but she exuded a natural presence.
Mary's gaze fell on the clothes in Charlotte's hands. It was a bathrobe of the same style Charlotte was wearing, along with what appeared to be a shirt to wear underneath.
"A bathrobe?"
"Is there a problem?"
Charlotte countered. "It's warm enough and comfortable enough."
As she spoke, she pressed the robe into Mary's hands, then pointed upstairs.
"The hot water is ready. Hurry up and wash. Don't catch a cold. You too, Russell."
Charlotte looked at Russell. "Are you still standing there?"
Russell stood frozen for a moment, then quickly nodded and turned to return to his room.
The only ones left in the living room were Charlotte, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson.
Mrs. Hudson's gaze moved between the two girls. The eyes of an old woman who had seen countless people held a meaningful smile.
"I'll make some ginger tea," she said. "Being soaked in the rain makes the body cold, so you need to warm up."
As she spoke, she turned and walked toward the kitchen. Before leaving, she winked at Charlotte. Her eyes seemed to say, "Get along well."
Charlotte pretended not to see it.
The fireplace flames flickered, crackling softly. Rain fell outside the window, and occasionally a gust of wind would send raindrops pattering against the glass.
"Come with me."
Charlotte spoke first. Her voice was flat. "The bathroom is on the second floor."
She turned and walked toward the stairs.
Mary followed behind her. Her pace was neither too fast nor too slow.
The two climbed the stairs one after another. Their footsteps echoed quietly on the wooden steps.
The hallway was quiet. Only the warmth from the fireplace downstairs rose up.
Charlotte stopped in front of a door and pushed it open.
She said, "The hot water is ready. Take your time."
Mary stood at the doorway and glanced inside. The bathroom wasn't large, but it was very clean. The bathtub was already filled with hot water, and white steam rose gently.
"Thank you."
Mary turned to look at Charlotte.
Their gazes met in the air.
"You're welcome."
Charlotte said.
Mary smiled. It was a polite, refined smile, as though she had practiced it countless times in salons.
"In that case, I won't stand on ceremony."
As she spoke, she entered the bathroom and quietly closed the door.
The bathroom was filled with steam.
Mary hung the robe and shirt on the hook behind the door, then began removing her rain-soaked clothes.
The black shirt dress was almost ruined by the rain. The water had seeped into every corner of the fabric and clung tightly to her body. When she peeled it off, there was a faint "shhh" sound, as though the skin and fabric were reluctant to part.
Then came the boots with their white uppers covered in mud and black laces hanging wetly. She bent down, took them off, and placed them to the side.
Her stockings were soaked and clung to her legs. The girl leaned against the wall and slowly removed the stockings, revealing her pale skin. In the dim bathroom light, her legs seemed to glow faintly, as though they had just been pulled from milk.
There were also more intimate garments… They were removed one by one and set aside.
When she was finished, she stood in the center of the bathroom. The mirror was fogged with steam, so her face wasn't clearly visible, but a vague silhouette of a slender waist, soft curves, and long legs could be seen.
It was like a watercolor painting—details were unclear, but enough to imagine the beauty hidden beneath the hazy surface.
She raised her hands and gathered her wet silver hair behind her head, revealing her delicate features. Water droplets ran down her neck, passed her collarbone, flowed down to her waist, and disappeared into the curve of her hips.
Mary turned and stepped into the bathtub. The hot water instantly enveloped her. Warmth surged from every direction, as though seeping into every pore.
The girl let out a satisfied sigh, sank her entire body into the water, and only kept her head above the surface. Her long silver hair spread across the water like floating moonlight.
The warm water gradually warmed her body, and her tense muscles slowly relaxed. She leaned against the edge of the tub, lost in thought.
Just then, Mrs. Hudson's voice came from outside the door.
"Mary, may I come in? I'm here to take the laundry to dry."
The girl snapped out of her daze and quickly answered.
"Of course. Thank you for your help."
The bathroom door opened slightly. Mrs. Hudson entered holding clean towels.
"These are freshly opened towels," the old woman said, her gaze moving to the pile of soaked clothes Mary had draped over the back of the chair.
"Oh dear, they're completely soaked. They need to be dried properly."
She walked over and picked up the clothes one by one—the shirt dress, stockings, and undergarments.
Her hands were steady, and her movements were natural, as though she was used to this and felt no discomfort at all.
Mary curled up in the bathtub. The hot water reached her collarbone, leaving only her shoulders and head exposed. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat. Her long, wet silver hair clung to her neck and shoulders, with a few strands floating on the water's surface, swaying gently with the ripples.
"Thank you for your help."
She repeated it, her voice softer than before, carrying a languid tone from being immersed in the hot water.
"It's nothing," Mrs. Hudson waved her hand. She gathered the clothes in both arms, then turned and left the bathroom.
After a while, Mary finished bathing and stepped out of the tub. Water droplets still clung to the girl's skin, some of them dripping down.
She picked up a towel and dried herself, then picked up the shirt.
It was a loose white shirt, brand new and without a single wrinkle. The length was just right, reaching the middle of her thighs. It seemed a little too big for her. When she put it on, it looked baggy and unnatural.
Then Mary picked up the nightgown. The fabric was soft, though still inferior to what she usually wore at home. However, she wasn't particularly picky about such things.
The robe was somewhat loose, revealing only a small part of her white ankles, making the girl appear even more slender. A small portion of her white skin above the collarbone was also exposed.
Her hair was still wet and had been roughly dried with a towel. It wasn't dripping, but it was still damp. Her long silver hair hung over her shoulders, the ends darker than usual, clinging to the robe's fabric and leaving faint water stains.
Before leaving the bathroom, she tied the bathrobe's sash twice more to make sure her skin wasn't exposed and to ward off the cold.
In the living room, Charlotte sat in an armchair, holding a cup from which a faint coffee aroma rose.
When she saw Mary come out, she couldn't help but look at her. Their gazes met in midair.
"Is the laundry done?"
She asked.
"Mm."
Mary nodded.
"The laundry is drying. It might take some time."
Charlotte said, "Have a seat for a while."
As she spoke, she placed a cup of hot ginger tea on the table.
"Thank you."
Mary nodded and obediently sat down in one of the armchairs.
The living room was quiet.
The fireplace flames flickered, bathing the entire room and the two girls sitting in the armchairs in a warm light.
Rain pattered outside the window. Occasionally, a gust of wind would send raindrops striking the glass with a soft sound.
Mary held the ginger tea with both hands, feeling its warmth throughout her body.
"Does my presence bother you?"
Mary broke the silence. "I want to dry my hair."
"Go ahead."
Charlotte still didn't give a clear answer, so Mary changed her position, moving the armchair closer to the fireplace so the warmth would better envelop her.
"So," Charlotte broke the silence between them and asked, "what were you and Russell doing?"
She didn't use any formal language or roundabout expressions. She went straight to the point, surprising even Mary.
She knew Charlotte's personality, but she hadn't expected her to be this direct.
This person really has no sense of subtlety at all.
The girl took a sip of ginger tea and simply smiled at Charlotte's question.
"You're very good at thinking logically, aren't you? Why don't you try figuring it out yourself?"
Charlotte's hand holding the coffee cup paused for a moment.
She looked up at Mary. In the light of the fireplace flames, her gray-blue eyes looked like two blocks of ice.
"Are you serious?"
"Why not?"
Mary tilted her head, holding the ginger tea. Her wet silver hair cascaded over her shoulder, glowing softly in the firelight.
"I've heard that Miss Holmes is the best in this field."
Charlotte was silent for a few seconds, then set down her coffee cup and turned to face Mary.
"First of all, let's confirm that you didn't go to the Faidon Teahouse."
"Did Russell say we went to the Faidon Teahouse?"
"He only said 'pretty much.' That means the same as 'not at all.'"
Charlotte said. "So if you didn't go to the Faidon Teahouse, then he must have gone to your house."
Mary didn't deny it. She simply took a small sip of ginger tea.
"You had a very good plan. No, rather, you had a very good plan."
Charlotte continued. Her gaze was slightly unfocused, as though she was replaying today's events in her mind.
"Afternoon tea, sightseeing, and apparently a few other plans. You styled your hair and chose your clothes, didn't you? It wasn't just to entertain a guest at home. And those leather boots too. Everything was preparation for going out.
So after afternoon tea, you probably planned to take Russell out of that suffocating house and have dinner at a restaurant. But judging from the results, that plan didn't come to fruition."
Mary's eyes wavered slightly.
"Why?"
Charlotte asked on Mary's behalf, then answered herself.
"Because an unexpected event occurred, forcing you to leave the mansion earlier than planned.
If everything had gone smoothly, the carriage would have accompanied you during the move, so there would have been no need to worry about getting wet in the rain. In other words, no one would have noticed that you had gone out.
Furthermore, your range of activity should have stayed within the Kensington area. After the rain stopped, the best choice would have been to return home. Coming all the way to Baker Street was a completely meaningless act, yet you still came. That means you didn't want to go back.
Why didn't you want to go back?
Precisely because that was the reason you took him out in the first place.
Your outfit lacked formality and wasn't befitting of the daughter of the Morstan family. Naturally, your father wouldn't allow you to receive guests in such attire. But you did. That means your father wasn't home. Everything is clear, Miss Mary."
Charlotte looked at her, a faint smile on her lips, then picked up her coffee cup and took a sip.
"You took Russell and ran away from home because you didn't want your father to see him. Or rather, you didn't want your father to see Russell with you."
"Am I correct?"
…