Every Christmas season, I read and reread holiday stories, including romances.
"Scandal in Winter" by Gillian Linscott is one of my favorites.
In sum, an elderly Holmes and Watson visit the Hotel Edelweiss to prove that Irene Adler Norton McEvoy is innocent of shoving her rich, straying husband out a window. The story is told by twelve-going-on-thirteen Jessica. A year earlier, she witnessed the death and is the primary witness.
Holmes uncovers the truth--the death was an accident--after quizzing Jessica and then performing a dangerous experiment. The mystery is intelligent but no great shakes. What makes the story utterly brilliant is that Linscott captures the mindset and behavior and pressure of Irene's social milieu.
From a modern perspective, she seems caught by the opinions of unimpressive, narrow-minded people, but like John Singer Sargent, these are the waters in which she swims. A retired opera singer, she resides slightly above the fold yet the opinions of people who support her celebrity status matter to her nonetheless. Even in her first appearance, "A Scandal in Bohemia," she and her lover take action to keep her out of the prince's line of fire--and in good standing matrimonially.
Irene shows impressive fortitude and bravery by returning to the Hotel Edelweiss after a year away. She holds her head high. She is still part of this clan/tribe/group/clique. Holmes saves her reputation.
He saves her--and he inspires Jessica. The story operates on several levels. The older woman's reputation is restored. Jessica, in comparison, is pushed to consider a future outside the norm, a Joan Watson in 1910.
From a romantic point of view, the best scene is not Holmes's dangerous experiment. The most romantic scene occurs the night that Irene arrives. As she crosses the dining room, the other wealthy patrons cut her. They ignore her, whisper about her, and act as if she isn't there.
Holmes stands--followed by Watson--
No entrance she ever made in her stage career could have been as nerve racking as that long walk across the hotel floor. In spite of the silent commands radiating from my mother, I could no more have turned away from her than from Blondin crossing Niagara Falls. My disobedience was rewarded, as disobedience so often is, because I saw it happen. In the middle of that silent dining room amid a hundred or so people pretending not to notice her, I saw Silver Stick [Holmes] get to his feet. Among all those seated people he looked even taller than before, his burnished silver head gleaming like snow on the Matterhorn above that rock ridge of a nose, below it the glacial white and black of his evening clothes...As in her lonely walk she came alongside their table, Silver Stick bowed with the dignity of a man who did not have to bow very often.
It is a moment of lovely chivalry that brings the entire story in line with Jonny Lee Miller's wonderful interpretation of Holmes in Elementary.
