Holmes still liked to insist he hadn't tipped Irene off that Watson had a bit of guilty pleasure found in gambling but their evening out on the town had indeed been so much more entertaining for the boxing detective that he was sure his secret would slip out eventually, mostly out of sheer gleeful amusement. Watson so rarely crept out of his shell, that no one could blame Sherlock for taking advantage of the few indulgences John partook in. "I elected not to warn you of her reputation because it was simply in my best interest to let you learn on your own, a baby bird must fly the coop at some point, Watson." Holmes chided, though his tone indicated he was still rather calm, despite the need to approach new cases with urgency. In his mind, he hadn't taken it on and he wasn't sure if it would be of any interest for him to actually do so. If it were still pouring, he would have outright refused Adler's plea and not left his cozy but very cluttered room where he could resume his countless experiments and projects. "Perhaps you'd like to take the lead on this one?" He suggested.

Mary gave Irene an understanding nod, but she wasn't entirely convinced, despite this being her only hope at finding Charlie and possibly Kettle as well. "I did send a carriage for them, with the constant rain, I didn't want them walking so far in the cold." She explained, her heart going out to those who had to still work in such awful conditions. A few more minutes passed as the wind continued to blow by, causing the tired blond to lose her balance slightly. When it died down, leaving more wisps of fog, the carriage pulled up, making its way through the gate and up to the large manor. Mary glanced to Irene and stepped down the four steps to where the rest of the cool solid stone was before it would be met with soggy grass and stepping stones leading to the backyard and other areas of interest on the property. "Good morning, thank you so much for coming all the way out here." Mary announced as the driver opened the door for the two occupants.

The first voice he heard wasn't Irene Adler, but someone else. 

The potential client.

She sounded rather troubled, her voice was inviting yet uneven, and he didn't think the cold had much to do with that.

"Please do come in and warm up. I hope your ride wasn't too unpleasant." Mary said and motioned for everyone to head inside. 

Sherlock stepped out and fussed with his long coat, checking he had his pipe on him. Despite his sharp mind, he could be so forgetful. He could leave the stove on, his gun on his dresser, sometimes he even forgot to feed Gladstone but thankfully, Watson was like a guardian angel, able to fill in the missing gaps in Holmes' rapidly working mind. He walked up the steps, moving right past Mary and up to where Irene was perched by the doorway. He looked at her, studied her choice in attire, no doubt an early Christmas present to herself. "Red has always suited you." He said and turned back to see Watson getting out. His gaze then turned to the tense looking blond woman in the dark blue dress. "Actually the ride was rather agonizing but it may have been due to my company. My partner can be a bother if he hasn't gotten enough sleep." He laughed lightly and moved past Irene and let himself inside. Mary gave a quizzical look to Irene before she hurried after the detective.

When all of them were inside and out of the harsh, darkened weather, Mary led them to the sitting room off to the right of the house on the first floor. It was a corner room with long floor to ceiling windows, framed by red velvet drapes which were tied with golden rope. There were many seats and couches, as well as wooden tables and a fire was already made in the fireplace. Lily, the cook, had already set out food and tea for the guests. "Please come in, make yourselves comfortable." Mary offered as she remained standing. Sherlock, on the other hand, took a seat in front of the fire, on a yellow couch. The floor was hardwood, but had a large round carpet on most of the exposed wood. It was a hand stitching of a farm in France, one the Tylers also owned. "My name is Mary Mortsan, I asked Irene to invite you here." Mary said nervously, looking to the other female for a moment. Before the dark haired woman could introduce the boys on their behalf, Holmes spoke up on his own accord.

"You have a lovely home." Sherlock spoke up and stood up for a moment to extend his arm. "My name is Sherlock Holmes." He smiled as she walked over and shook his hand. "I trust you have heard of the many cases I've helped solve over the years." He mentioned. Mary gave him a look and shook her head. She hadn't heard of his name, but she was vaguely aware of some freelance detectives helping people who were in need from time to time. Holmes glanced back to the fire. He had already studied the photos above the fireplace. They were of the family. "So you're a governess." He commented, seeing that she wasn't in many of the photos, and neither were the children's parents. He got up and turned to the others. "It would be very troubling if you lost one of your children before your employers returned. That doesn't bode well for a very happy holiday." He pointed out and walked around the couch to pour himself a cup of tea while snatching a handful of cookies, as he hadn't eaten in nearly a day, as he usually wrapped himself tightly in his work, that Watson often had to pester him to eat, let alone bathe from time to time.

Mary inhaled sharply, not at all pleased by the manner in which the man spoke.

In her mind, Sherlock Holmes seemed to be the sort of man who would throw women trains if it suited him.

Mary looked to Irene and the other man, somehow a friend of Mr. Holmes. "Excuse me? Charlie ran off, it wasn't my fault." Mary's eyes narrowed as Sherlock turned back around to the three. Mary wasn't fond of being accused of mismanaging the children. She cared for them deeply as if they were her very own. She already blamed herself for the boy's outburst, she didn't need a stranger accusing her further. "H-he is at the age where he wants to be seen as an adult. A lot of things have been troubling him as of late and he took off before I could catch up to him." Mary explained coldly. Sherlock gave a shrug and ate a cookie as he motioned for Mary to go on. "If you want to be rude, I don't care but you stuffing your face isn't helping find him." Mary said and looked to the other two. "There have been others who were abducted. And pets too. Charlie lost his cat a while ago and I've been asking around..." She bit her lower lip. "If they wanted money, Charlie's parents could pay easily but...I don't think it's that simple." She insisted.

The tall man swallowed and then took a small sip of tea, finding the temperature very comforting. "You've been asking around? What do you need our help for? Ah, Watson, introduce yourself to Ms. Mortsan, no need to be a ponce." He waved his free hand.

Mary couldn't believe this was the skilled detective Irene had vouched for. She didn't have the patience or energy to be dealing with such infantile morons. "You [i]are[/i] helping me find Charlie, I refuse to abandon him!" She declared but found herself feeling dizzy so she quickly took a seat but kept her eyes on Holmes. She then then sighed and rubbed her head. "I'm sorry..."

Like most women, Mary Mortsan had some interesting buttons to push, though her tenacity was what intrigued him the most at the moment. He glanced to Irene and raised a brow, still uncertain as to why she'd befriend such a sweet governess, such an odd contrast to her usual partners in crime.