Sherlock Holmes Housekeeper Novels & Stories

When I pushed the door open, the faint aroma of soup drifted from the kitchen. The housekeeper turned around when she heard me and spoke with slight embarrassment. “Ma’am, Mr. Tennant ordered me to prepare this for Miss Fisher. Her hand is injured, and he has told me to go over and take care of her for the next few days.” Her gaze swept over the bandages covering my arm, and she hesitated. “Should I… leave you a bowl too?” I smiled, but the smile never reached my eyes. “No need.” Even the housekeeper knew to show concern for me. Yet, the man who had shared my bed for seven years didn’t offer a single word of care.

she says and starts walking down a passage. I have no choice but to follow her. The house is massive. We make our way through different passages and hallways, passing by dozens of rooms before we reach a large kitchen. The comforting smell of freshly baked bread and roasted coffee beans have my mouth salivating. The kitchen is bustling with activity. The girl leads me to a stool at the kitchen counter. “Good morning Deary, I am Mrs Wells the housekeeper. Make yourself at home” an elderly lady says, making her way to the counter. She wipes her hands on the apron around her waist. She is covered in flour and her face is flushed from the heat of the oven.

She stepped forward, her hands folded behind her as usual. “She works in the kitchen, and the laundry room..” the housekeeper responded. “So how then did she know that there was gold in his majesty’s study?”

Gage. It was softer, older, and warm in that maternal way only women who ran entire households seemed to have. When I finally blinked my eyes open, the blurred outline of the housekeeper came into focus. She stood beside my bed holding a small laundry basket, her expression apologetic as if she hated waking people even when it was her job. “Sorry to disturb you, dear,” she said with a kind smile. “I need to clean your room.” For a moment I just stared at her, confused.

Under the sunlight, the vase building looked magnificent. Donovan’s personal bodyguard, Brad led me into the house. He was neither enthusiastic nor fawning at me. I guess he knew about Donovan and I’s one month plan. Though the house was huge, I didn’t see much servants. Just one to be exactly. Brad led me to the housekeeper and left. I felt uncomfortable as I looked around. “You can call me Joan, I’m the housekeeper, if you need anything, let me know.”Joan who seemed to be in her fifties said with a smile.

"Thank you for everything, errrm.. I'm sorry I don't believe I heard your name?" "Oh that's right, how rude of me! My name is Ashley, I guess you could say I'm the head house keeper here. I work directly for Either the owner or Arthur." She had got caught up reveling in Alison's reaction she forgot to introduce herself. 'That girl's attitude is just so contagious!'

The housekeeper became my stepmother, and together with her son, they plotted to kill me. After being reborn, I exposed a video of her affair at her own wedding, destroying her reputation completely. I watched as she and her son were kicked out. They left with nothing, wandering the streets like outcasts. I smiled and tossed a moldy piece of bread into their begging bowl. “This is all you deserve.” …… When I opened my eyes, I found myself back to a week before my dad’s wedding to our housekeeper, Megan Zimmerman.

She faced me immediately and that was when I took in her appearance she looks in her late forties or maybe fifties, nice and neat with her gray hair tied in a tight bun and wore simple dress I couldn't sense any negative energy around her and aside from the fact that she smell human she didn't look like someone who's possibly be a threat else she wouldn't have gotten access into this heavily guarded apartment but then I didn't know her and haven't seen her before which still makes her suspicious "Yes I am and you?" I asked lightly but still cautious She threw me a warm smile "Oh my bad sorry for not coming to you the moment I arrived, well I'm Lydia Sir Jettison's housekeeper" She said and I

Now, she had a much softer and milder temperament. “May I know who you are?” The housekeeper’s eyes had a slight wariness in them. After all, she had just started working here not too long ago, so she’d rather keep an eye out whenever possible. “Heather Langston. I’m a friend of Mrs. Hart’s,” Heather told her truthfully. “Mrs. Hart isn’t home.” The housekeeper tried to dodge the question with a lie, and she sounded a little nervous when she spoke. Heather already had a feeling that Myra wasn’t going to let her in, and she wasn’t surprised either. She told the housekeeper politely, “In that case, let me wait for her inside. I think she should be back very soon.”

He added with a wink. Lola let out a sigh of relief and smiled before returning the pouch to him. “Thank you.” * * * Sanders family mansion. The housekeeper ran up, not stopping until she opened the door to the room of her mistress without a knock or an invite. “Madam.. we have visitors.” Martha, the Sander family housekeeper announced almost breathlessly as Charlotte’s pissed-off face turned from where she sat at the table to face her angrily.