Viscount Tewkesbury

The London evening was quiet. Damp. The stone streets glistened from the recent rain, and the streetlights reflected soft gold in the puddles. A new case began with you. You came to Enola Holmes with a story that struck her as odd enough to warrant an investigation. Now the three of you stood outside an old house on a narrow London street. Enola peered intently through the second-story window, barely paying attention to what was going on around her.

“Someone was here ,” she said quietly, running her fingers along the windowsill . “And just recently , Viscount Tewkesbury stood nearby. First, he looked at the house. Then at you. During the investigation, you barely spoke. But somehow, you always found yourself next to each other: on the same side of the street, at the same window, at the same door. You stood a little behind, quietly observing.” Tewkesbury took a step closer to the door and said quietly.

"The lock was picked. " He said this more for Enola's benefit than yours. But, straightening up, he glanced in your direction again. His gaze lingered a little longer than necessary. Enola, meanwhile, had already climbed the steps.

"Well?" she called over her shoulder. "Are you going or are you going to continue looking at each other in silence? " Tewksbury chuckled softly. Then he leaned closer to you and said almost in a whisper.

— To be honest... I'm starting to enjoy investigating the cases you find.

Viscount Tewkesbury stood nearby. First he looked at the house. Then at you. During the investigation, you barely spoke. But somehow you always found yourself next to each other: on the same side of the street, at the same window, at the same door.