"Mr. Hols, I didn't expect you to have such insights about paintings? I thought your temperant wouldn't be inclined toward these sowhat abstract existences?"
In the afternoon, after visiting several galleries in succession, An Ning finally looked up and cheerfully teased the gentleman beside her, who had clearly beco noticeably thinner than before:
"Actually, your guess is quite accurate, but in this regard, I must particularly thank the bloodline inheritance from my maternal grandfather's side..."
Perhaps due to his recent diligent exercise routine, although wearing a rather old-fashioned pure black three-piece suit, he inexplicably carried an air of scholarly elegance and competence at that mont.
Satisfied with the other's occasional glances lingering on her, Mycroft's gray pupils rarely held a trace of amusent.
Oh, excellent. Those regrettable little desserts that weren't eaten now seed not to have been wasted after all.
"In fact, not only , but even Sherly isn't without talent in this area!"
"This point, I believe Mr. Rosente, who has been corresponding with Sherly constantly over the years, knows best..."
As they spoke, the two had unknowingly walked into the center of the garden. Mr. Rosente—perhaps due to pronunciation issues—sohow this na sounded particularly peculiar when spoken by the other person.
Although both had long been aware of the so-called "identity reveal," this was the first ti the na Rosente had co from the other's mouth.
He even specifically ntioned Sherlock...
At that mont, in this boundless manor blooming with countless lavender flowers, An Ning turned her head and looked rather strangely at this Mr. Hols before her.
Sure enough, the next second, she saw the other wearing an earnest expression:
"Oh, poor Sherly. Perhaps you're unaware, Miss de Bourgh, but due to Mr. Rosente's repeated refusals, Sherlock has been sowhat emotionally downcast lately."
"So?" Watching his completely serious deanor, An Ning struggled to suppress the laughter about to spill from her lips.
"So for the sake of this poor friend, I wonder if Miss de Bourgh would be willing to pay him a visit along the way?"
"Just a visit?"
"Yes, just a visit! And if Miss de Bourgh doesn't mind, I could take you on a tour of Hols Manor afterward."
Gazing at the smiling eyes of the person beside him, Mycroft couldn't help but smile gently:
"Of course, if Miss de Bourgh has other plans, please rest assured that I will fully cooperate."
Seeing An Ning hesitate, he finally sighed regretfully:
"It's just a pity that my parents went out to visit friends several days ago..."
An Ning: "..."
This trick is played so smoothly!
But it must be said, the reason tricks remain tricks lies in the fact that sotis they're truly effective!
Whether it's Sherlock, or the sixteen-year-old great detective, or Scott, the pen friend she's corresponded with for years—both held trendous appeal for An Ning.
Speaking of which, by this tiline, Sherlock should be about to start school soon!
Oh, alright, she admitted, as soone wished, by now she had indeed been subtly tempted.
However, several hours later:
Looking at the exceptionally exquisite moon-blue silk dress before her, every dazzling golden strand of hair perfectly arranged, every aspect of her makeup ticulously done, even the inconspicuous hem of her dress adorned with several delicate lace beads.
The entire person was simply indescribably sweet and beautiful.
Not to ntion her accompanying protector Darcy, even Mycroft beside them couldn't help but freeze for a mont. Yet what surprised the two n most wasn't this.
It was... her extraordinarily pure gaze, almost her entire face reflecting clarity and innocence. Without exaggeration, she resembled a mythical sprite who had accidentally fallen to the mortal realm.
An innocent, charming, and particularly naive beautiful young girl, only when looking at the tall gentleman beside her would she slightly lower her eyes, revealing a bit of maidenly shyness and sweetness.
Even her perfu primarily featured fresh, pleasant lavender with a touch of dreamy, girlish quality...
By all appearances, she was a young lady who had been excessively pampered, resulting in exceptional innocence and naivety.
In short, she was completely different from the previous elegant, beautiful Miss de Bourgh who carried intellect and mystery. Oh, God!
Mr. Darcy: "???"
Darcy: "!!!"
If it weren't for the sa face, and the voice unchanged except for being sweeter, Darcy would almost think his cousin had been replaced by soone else.
As for Mycroft beside him, after a brief mont of stunned surprise, he quickly understood her intention.
As if already foreseeing what would happen next, after twitching slightly for a mont, this Mr. Hols couldn't help but curl the corners of his lips into a slight arc, though sowhat stiffly:
"It seems Miss de Bourgh indeed cares exceptionally about her good friend Scott!"
Holding her folding fan slightly below her face, through the equally exquisite silk fan surface, Miss Anne de Bourgh's azure blue eyes showed unmistakable clear amusent:
"As you anticipated, Mr. Hols!"
"After all, for a first eting, one must give Sherlock a little surprise, so he'll rember it particularly well later, isn't that right?"
A little surprise...
Oh, Sherly, I only hope Sherlock's acceptance ability is strong enough, and please don't be too noisy about it!
In the carriage heading to Hols Manor, Mycroft found himself unusually feeling sowhat helpless.
At the sa ti, in the sun-drenched Hols Manor:
Due to the new puzzle recently sent by "Mr. Rosente." Upstairs, Sherlock, who had already stayed up all night and showed signs of continuing, for so reason suddenly sneezed heavily!
Sherlock: "???"
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