Unfortunately, the glass of milk Anne drank before going to bed not only did not help her grow taller, but it also did not improve her sleep.
She had insomnia.
Anne had been suffering from insomnia for a long time. But no one knew, including her family doctor. Darcy might know, but Anne did not specifically tell him.
Anne did not know the reason. Perhaps she had been thinking about her past life too often recently. Although she had been trying to resolve it, it did not seem to have much effect.
The villa at night was unusually quiet. Anne could almost hear the low chirping of the summer insects waking up in the warm wind outside the window. But everything, in such a quiet and cold early morning, felt unreal like a dream.
Anne suddenly heard the vague sound of the door opening, and then the sound of light and quick footsteps going downstairs.
It seemed that she was not the only one who could not sleep.
As if she had found some fun, Anne pricked up her ears in the dark to hear the slight sounds downstairs.
But other than the sound of footsteps going back and forth, there seemed to be nothing else.
A moment later, there was the sound of someone going up the stairs. Then there was the sound of the door opening and closing.
Silence returned to her ears.
After losing her only insomnia partner, Anne began to count sheep with her eyes closed to cultivate her sleepiness.
When she counted to the 688th sheep, the familiar sound of the door opening was heard again.
Anne curled her lips and opened her eyes in the dark.
This time, without hesitation, Anne got up from the bed, opened the door, and walked out.
Her insomnia partner had just walked downstairs when she heard the door open. She stopped and turned around.
The candlesticks on the wall were still burning, but the light was dim. Anne stood at the stairs and could not see the other person's face.
"Mr. Holmes?" Anne guessed and shouted.
After a while, a low "Yes" came from downstairs. It was a response.
She guessed right. Anne was a little happy and slowly walked down the stairs.
As she got closer, Anne saw … Mr. Holmes was wearing a long nightgown. The gorgeous silk nightgown emitted a faint blue light in the dim light.
However, his face was still hidden in the darkness, and his facial features could not be seen. Moreover, he was really very tall. Anne didn't feel it when she was standing upstairs, but when she got closer, she felt the hurtful difference.
Looking up was a little tiring. Thinking that they couldn't see each other anyway, Anne simply said to his chest, "Hello, Mr. Holmes. I'm Anne De Boer. "
Sherlock Holmes, who had received the other party's message, was speechless.
There was no response for a long time, but Anne did not mind. She continued, "Mr. Holmes, I think you may not be able to sleep well in a new environment. I'm sorry, I don't have any good advice in this regard. But if you don't mind, I may be able to help you in other areas."
Seeing that the other party still had no intention of responding, but also didn't refute her words, Anne thought that at least the person in front of her didn't reject the kindness of her little fangirl.
"Please wait a moment," she said and turned to go upstairs.
A moment later, Mr. Holmes, who was wearing a gorgeous nightgown, saw the small figure come out of the room again. This time, there was a piece of … cake in her hand?
Anne said with a smile, "Because I can't sleep well, I left some food in my room."
Mr. Holmes frowned in the darkness. This was illogical. What was the relationship between the two?
But in Anne's opinion, insomnia was already a very painful thing. If she couldn't sleep on an empty stomach, it would be too miserable. Therefore, she always had a habit of hiding food in her room at night. Although it didn't help with sleep, eating was always a pleasant thing. At least, that was the case for Anne.
Anne felt that the gaze above her seemed to be looking at her condescendingly.
Seeing that the other party didn't move, Anne pushed the cake forward again.
Although she was only a true fan of Blessedcurls, she also loved Sherlock Holmes from the same series.
The tall figure in the darkness finally moved. Anne saw a hand reach out and take the plate of pastries from her hand.
The hand was unexpectedly white and slender.
Anne blinked. The beautiful hand had returned to the dim shadows.
She returned to her senses and bowed to the tall figure. "I wish you a good night."
After saying that, she turned around and went upstairs under the dim candlelight. The thin figure disappeared into the bedroom upstairs.
Before closing the door, Anne stopped at the door.
The dim candlelight was not very pleasant. Mr. Holmes could only see a vague outline by the door. But strangely, he knew that the face hidden in the darkness was smiling at him. It was a smile as soft as the voice just now.
Anne was indeed smiling. Even when she lay back on the bed, the corners of her lips were slightly raised. She felt that Mr. Holmes, who was looking for food in the middle of the night, was inexplicably cute.
But of course, Mr. Holmes wasn't looking for food. He was just bored. And he was quitting smoking. Without the help of nicotine patches, the boring and long nights of the 19th century made him want to redecorate the walls with bullet holes.
He glanced at the closed door upstairs again. The hand that had just been praised picked up the silver spoon next to the plate, cut a small piece of cake and put it into his mouth.
In the darkness, Mr. Sherlock Holmes frowned slightly. It was sweet.
.
Anne didn't sleep well that night.
Although she finally fell asleep in the second half of the night, Anne didn't know if it was because she had met the great detective, but her dreams were about murder all night. Although there weren't any bloody scenes, being chased by an unknown murderer on the unfamiliar streets of London was really nerve-wracking.
This directly led to her yawning at the dining table the next morning.
Of course, she couldn't be as forthright as she was in front of Darcy. Anne covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief. She was sleep-deprived.
Darcy had been frowning and looking at her for a long time. Fortunately, Caroline was pestering him to recall some interesting things they had seen in London, so Mr. Darcy didn't have time to ask her about her current rude behavior.
Anne listened to the conversation between the two. She had never been to London, so she couldn't join in their conversation. Anne turned her head to the other side, hoping that the cute Mr. Bentley could say something to her to distract her sleepy nerves.
But unfortunately, Mr. Bentley seemed to be very interested in the tassels on the sofa cushion at the moment and was playing with them by himself.
"Are Holmes and Mr. Watson okay? Do you need a servant to call them downstairs to prepare breakfast? "
Anne decided to be self-reliant and asked Mr. Bentley, the master of the house. Thinking of her insomnia partner, Anne suspected that he hadn't gotten out of bed yet.
"Oh, Holmes and Mr. Watson went for a walk in the garden early in the morning." Bentley looked up from the exquisite tassels on the sofa cushion and looked out the window. "But I think they should be back soon."
"Walk?"
Anne couldn't be blamed for being surprised. In her impression, Sherlock Holmes was simply a shut-in who could only be chased out of his house by cases. It was really hard to imagine him going out for a walk early in the morning.
If she had to think deeper, it was strange that Detective Holmes suddenly appeared in a secluded village.
"Yes. — Oh, they're back! "Bentley suddenly shouted happily.
Anne looked up and followed Bentley's gaze to the living room door. Then, she was stunned.
Forgive her for ignoring John Watson at first glance, but the person behind him was too eye-catching.
Although they had met in the dark last night, Anne didn't really imagine what Sherlock Holmes would look like in the 19th century. It was because the image of Fortune Curls was too deeply ingrained in her mind.
In fact, strictly speaking, the story of Sherlock Holmes and his partner John Watson should have happened in the late 19th century, the Victorian era, and not the early 19th century.
But as an unscientific existence who was reborn with the memories of her previous life, Anne really didn't have the right to question others.
But no matter how ridiculous it was, Anne had never thought that Holmes, who didn't fit the era, might be Fortune Curls from the 21st century.
Anne would never have such a magical brain circuit in her two lifetimes.
So, she could imagine how shocked she was when she suddenly saw a living Fortune Curls in front of her.
What was even more shocking was that she had actually talked to Fortune Curls face to face yesterday, although she was the one who did most of the talking. This simply didn't make sense. "Chatterbox" Fortune Curls only said "Yes" yesterday.
It was close to summer, and the weather was very good. The sun shone through the window, warm and soft.
Anne was sitting at the dining table by the window. The bright light shone on her body, and for a moment, she almost couldn't open her eyes.
Sherlock Holmes suddenly walked in from the door like a magical dream. He walked step by step into the sunlight and approached Anne step by step.
He was still wearing the black suit, which wrapped around his tall and thin body, making him look even taller.
Anne's gaze stayed on his soft and fluffy curls for a long time, unable to move away.
Probably because he had already seen the others at dinner last night, when Shylock walked in, he casually glanced around, and some of his sharp eyes directly looked at Anne, who was sitting quietly at the dining table.
Although he didn't see her face clearly last night, Shylock easily recognized the overly slender and thin figure at a glance.
Sensing his gaze, Anne subconsciously moved her gaze and immediately met his eyes.
All of a sudden, he recalled the time when he was binge-watching dramas. In various forums, his friends had repeatedly discussed the color of Blessings Curls's seductive eyes.
Anne now knew that it was a very light grayish green.
The first thought in her mind was that her eyes were also green, just like her idol's. She was so happy.
Then, she blushed because of her infatuation.
She told herself to calm down three times in her heart, but her idol had already walked in front of her.
Very good, now not only was her face burning, but her heart also failed to live up to her expectations and beat as fast as a drum.
The cute Mr. Bentley had already stood up from the sofa and enthusiastically introduced the two guests to Anne. If he hadn't said, "This is the Mr. Holmes you've been curious about." She would have thought that he was more considerate and cute.
Anne calmed herself down, got up, and curtsied to the two men.
John Watson nodded elegantly in return, "Miss Deboer."
Anne looked at him with a smile, feeling a little apologetic for her neglect just now. If it weren't for Fortune Curls, Anne wouldn't have doubted Dr. Watson at all, because he looked like an elegant and decent 19th-century gentleman.
Mr. Holmes, who didn't play by the rules, directly reached out his hand and briefly introduced himself again, "Sherlock Holmes."
Unlike last night's monotonous "Hmm", although this sentence wasn't long, it was enough for Anne to hear his deep and pleasant voice. Just like that, it went out of the movie and passed to her ears.
Anne almost subconsciously reached out to shake his hand, but suddenly Darcy's voice came from the side.
"Anne."
She turned around and saw that her handkerchief was in Darcy's hand. Anne didn't know when her handkerchief fell, and she didn't see Darcy pick it up.
"Thank you." Anne calmed down and took the handkerchief.
She felt that her head was a little dizzy since Mr. Holmes appeared. At this time, she hurriedly took a deep breath, trying to calm down her muddled brain.
"Miss Deboer," the deep and charming voice didn't intend to let her go easily, "If I wasn't very confident in my memory, your reaction just now would make me think that we've met before."
Instinctively, Anne knew that when he said "met before," he definitely didn't mean last night.
Shylock's speed of speech was normal, but it was this normal speed that made Anne feel like she was being scrutinized — the kind that was looked down upon.
The shameful height difference.
Darcy was tall enough, but Shylock seemed to be taller than Darcy. Anne felt that Mr. Holmes was standing on top of her head.
Although the other party's aura was ruthlessly crushing her, Shylock's words finally calmed Anne down a little.
The person in front of her was Blessedcurls. If the other party was just Sherlock Holmes, even if he had a pair of eyes that could see through everything, Anne felt that she didn't need to worry too much. After all, Mr. Holmes was essentially a rational scientist. Transmigration and rebirth were pseudoscientific things that were hard to come by.
But if it was Blessedcurls from the 21st century … Anne felt that she could be "exposed" at any time.
The honest Dr. Watson spoke first, calling Shylock's name with some dissatisfaction. Obviously, his words just now were a little rude to a young lady who had just met.
Anne tried hard to put on a warm smile and said gently, "It's okay, Dr. Watson. I'm sure that today is the first time I've met the two of you. "
Of course, she was not as relaxed and calm as she looked. But in this case, she still felt that Shylock's gray-green eyes were unusually beautiful and charming. Although this pair of eyes might be able to see the truth in the next moment, and then his pleasant voice would quickly and smoothly reveal the truth that she was hiding under the sun.
But unexpectedly, Shylock didn't seem to have any objections to this answer. He said briefly, "OK."
Then he stood leisurely on the side and didn't speak anymore.
The atmosphere was awkward for a moment. Other than the initiator, Shylock, everyone present felt it.
Watson glanced at Shylock, who looked back with an innocent face and even pursed his lips a little childishly.
Anne felt that she could almost hear Watson's helpless sigh.
She couldn't bear to put Dr. Watson in a difficult position, so Anne turned to Bentley and said with a smile, "Mr. Bentley, can we start breakfast?"
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