Читать книгу A Question of Time - Jamie Ashbird - Страница 15

‘Can’t say I understood a word he said. You must do, Doctor Watson, being a genius yourself?’ said Barbara Dalrymple.

‘Me? No.’ John Watson blushed and shooed away the compliment.

‘I say, do you know what would be rather splendid? If you came down to Dalrymple House. Daddy won’t mind at all.’

‘Well, I–’

‘Do you shoot? You can shoot all you like there. Must be the season for something or other. Whatever it is, there’ll be enough about.’

‘Yes. No, but–’

‘Roderick Montalbert Fitzlexington is throwing a frightful shindig tomorrow. You ought to come, Johnny – may I call you Johnny? – make sure I don’t get too blotto.’

John looked to Sherlock, his eyes sending distress signals.

Sherlock left Gregson and came to his darling’s aid, leaning in close. ‘All right, old chap?’

John clutched his arm.

‘Was telling old Johnny I didn’t understand a word you said, Mr Holmes. It’s quite the mystery.’

Sherlock placed his hand in the small of John’s back. ‘Shall I slow it down for you, Miss Dalrymple? You murdered your entire household, including the gardener, you’re quite mad, and Gregson over there will arrest you shortly.’

‘I say, you’re a grim sort of fellow, ain’t you? What do you say to that party, Johnny?’

John hooked his arm around Sherlock’s. ‘I’m happily spoken for, Babs.’