"Oh, my dear Anne, although Mama wishes you could stay forever at Rosings Manor, stay by Mama's side, you must understand, my treasure, you are already eighteen this year, and at most in two years it will be ti for you to start a family.
My dear, you must admit that being an old maid at this ti is not exactly a respectable existence."
Holding her precious daughter in her arms, Lady Catherine's well-maintained face clearly showed disapproval.
"Of course, my dear treasure, I must say, up until now, you have seen far too few excellent gentlen, so not making a hasty decision is quite right. Perhaps in a few days, after eting more gentlen, Anne, my dear daughter, you will suddenly realize that Mr. Hols is nothing special, without any particular qualities worthy of a lady's favor..."
Oh, well, she should have known.
Lazily leaning against the chaise lounge, An Ning wasn't surprised in the slightest.
Her love for her daughter was genuine, but in the eyes of Lady Catherine, who had received aristocratic education since childhood, family honor still surpassed everything.
But before that, she was willing to give her daughter, aning the current her, greater autonomy, which could already be considered quite exceptional for the tis...
Over the next two months, taking advantage of occasional social opportunities, An Ning brought her young cousin along to attend various social gatherings one after another.
Due to her outstanding appearance and considerable wealth, she suddenly found herself with quite a few suitors around her...
One had to admit that the "gentlen" of this era were quite amusing when it ca to flattering others. Of course, this was provided one ignored their various romantic entanglents, even mistresses.
Oh, and one more thing—after hearing the familiar Shakespearean sonnets for no less than the tenth ti, the expression An Ning had been maintaining finally began to crack.
Having finally found a gap to escape to a less noticeable corner, she unexpectedly heard a familiar voice beside her.
"Good day, Miss de Bourgh!"
"I had thought you weren't actually very keen on these rather unoriginal social affairs?"
"I had also thought, given your temperant, sir, that the previous ball was already quite an exceptional occurrence for you?"
In the ballroom, the familiar waltz carried an elegance tinged with liveliness. Raising her eyes to et the familiar gray pupils before her, An Ning couldn't help but retort with a smile.
Months later, seeing this famously renowned Mr. Hols again, to be honest, An Ning was actually sowhat surprised.
Given his temperant, she had thought it more likely they would maintain correspondence over these past two months.
After all, these social balls were indeed, as he said, boring and rather unoriginal.
Additionally, observing his noticeably thinner figure compared to their last eting, and the gradually handso features erging after the weight loss...
After a skillful spin, An Ning finally couldn't resist letting out a delighted laugh:
"Doughnuts, chocolate cake, peanut milk candy..." She listed over ten types of desserts in one breath before playfully winking at him:
"Have these already lost their appeal for you so quickly, Mr. Hols?"
"Oh, that truly is a rather regrettable matter. You really are a heartless gentleman..."
After a mont of silence, the gentleman before her rarely showed an expression that could clearly be described as pained. But it was fleeting:
"Privately, I believe no one understands this better than the clever Miss Anne, isn't that right?"
Gazing directly into the bright eyes of the young lady before him, this Mr. Hols unusually adopted sothing of a gentleman's lant:
"Believe in yourself, noble Miss Anne de Bourgh.
If, years from now, I were most unfortunately—oh no, I should say most reasonably—to beco a middle-aged gentleman afflicted with obesity, baldness, and a prominent potbelly,
I dare guarantee that your noble gaze would not linger upon my humble self for even one pitiful second longer."
"Oh, or perhaps it wouldn't even wait until later..."
Mycroft thought with near certainty.
After all, this young lady before him insisted that even the protagonists, even the villains in her writings, must be sufficiently handso and dashing, possessing strikingly beautiful faces...
This persistence was particularly unique in the current era where rugged, even disheveled gentlen dominated the detective genre.
Earlier, Sherlock had even expressed dissatisfaction about this, believing that Detective Carl, the protagonist, paid too much attention to his external image, unnecessarily complicating daily investigative operations.
And from the way her gaze fell upon him more frequently this ti compared to before confird that his previous deduction... no, it couldn't really be called deduction...
After all, wasn't this utterly obvious?
Oh...
This was truly a enormous dilemma. Mycroft had to admit it was several tis more difficult than the most complex mathematical problem he had ever solved.
An Ning: "..."
Oh, well!
This... really left no room for rebuttal whatsoever! But An Ning didn't mind in the slightest, even feeling quite justified:
"Facts prove that frequently admiring beautiful people or things is the unparalleled thod for maintaining physical and ntal pleasure, isn't it?"
In the ballroom, as they danced, the young lady's azure blue skirt occasionally swept out exquisitely beautiful arcs with each spin and leap, achieving an extre of grace and lightness.
After a mont, Mycroft had to regretfully admit:
"Perhaps you are right, Miss Anne. But I still maintain that life is long and tedious. A clever mind and a sufficiently interesting soul are what make future life less dull, aren't they?"
And clearly, in this regard, the two of us are truly on the sa wavelength...
On this point, this gentleman clearly possessed unparalleled confidence. This confidence wasn't without reason, as evidenced by their almost uninterrupted correspondence over the past two months.
Of course, the final sentence would have been far too embarrassing for the Mr. Hols of that ti.
Even so, it didn't prevent An Ning from laughing out loud again:
"Pfft..."
"If you insist on putting it that way, may I sowhat narcissistically assu that you are indirectly complinting, even promoting, yourself?"
"This... Mr. Mycroft Hols!"
The young lady's clear, sweet voice still lingered in his ears. After many days, the man before her found his dance steps unusually faltering for a mont. Only after a long pause did he speak in an extrely low yet solemn voice:
"Evidently, noble Miss Anne de Bourgh, regarding myself, you have every right to interpret this in any aning you choose..."
"Then now, allow to ask presumptuously, how much longer must I wait humbly before having the honor of receiving an opportunity to visit your residence?"
An Ning: "..."
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