A/N: I apologize for any typos, I'm working from a tablet, and it's not making corrections easy. I so hope this last chapter is satisfying. Please leave me any feedback you think might tie things up better, and I'll look at incorporating them into the complete edit I plan to do now that the story is complete.

"It is difficult to calculate how much damage they have done to England," Mycroft said softly, sitting down his teacup. Edith, Mycroft, and Anthony were sitting by a cozy fire in Locksleigh's library, enjoying a moment of peace. Now six months along, Edith's pregnancy was starting to show in a way that couldn't be denied, and one or two reporters were still camping out at the gate, hoping for more to the story of the year.

"No,I suppose not," Anthony replied, staring out the library window. He was still working with doctors to end the mental conditioning he was put through. How many other minds had been tampered with? And who might gain access to the procedure in the future?

Even in their small town, the effects were being felt. Couples married by Travis, even decades back, were asking for wedding vow renewals, as clearly the man was never a proper custodian of the church. And the Gervises! Sir Arnold had been not been implicated in his wife's traitorous activities, though they would be keeping an eye on him.

But it had stung the community that anyone who had been so philanthropic as Lady Gervis had could be giving away the country's both had officially been charged with aiding the enemy in the death of sailors testing new equipment off the coast, as the information that was passed to the Germans alerted them to the ship's presence. The fact that Anthony's mind was being specifically manipulated managed to stay out of the headlines.

"Won't you have another scone, Mycroft?" Edith offered. She was starting feel rather motherly. This child, she had decided, would be loved. She would not allow Michael to harden her heart. She was already certain it was a girl, and she already loved her. She could admit to herself, privatly inside her head, that not being about to remember what Michael had done to her helped the process.

Mycroft looked at her, and then the scone, slightly bemused. "Yes, I think I will," he said with a smirk. He was old. What could a few scones hurt him now?

"They're not the only spies in England, Mycroft," Anthony said with a far away look in his eyes. "Though I am surprised that this ring targeted me so early."

"Yes, I was thinking about that," Mycroft said. "I may need to go through the histories of my own people again." He sat down his napkin. "At any rate, I do have a few things that need to be said."

Edith's gasp was barely audible, but both Mycroft and Anthony looked at her with concern. "Nothing to horrible, I think, my dear," Mycroft reassured her. "But Anthony is now in the public's eye as a major component of the Intelligence Service, even if I've managed to keep my own name out of the papers. He will need to take up that title, to keep the inspiring journalists from trying to dig further."

"What does that mean, Mycroft, exactly?" Anthony knew what was coming, but he dreaded it.

"You will be named the head of MI6 by the Prime Minister. Next week, in fact," Mycroft stated simply. Edith's teacup shook just a bit. More danger?

"The position should actually keep you safer, as it comes with quite a bit more protection, Mycroft answered her unspoken question, "though you will have to move to London."

Anthony nodded his head. He knew this would happen, eventually. Locksleigh would always be his home, but he would have to arrange for a permanent manager. Edith's brother-in-law Tom, perhaps….

"And the King has been briefed. I felt it was the best way to keep things stable. Prime Ministers come and ago, but I knew his grandmother." Mycroft tried to keep another smirk off his face, but couldn't quite manage. "It's his opinion that a baronet shouldn't be running such an important organization."

"What?" both Edith and Anthony said together. "What does that mean, will His Majesty keep me from it?" Anthony continued.

"No," now Mycroft's smile was in full force. "He's making you an Earl."

Edith flung herself at Anthony, holding him tight. "Oh, Anthony!" she nearly wailed. She knew this would help crush his damnable insecurity. Her family could say nothing more.

Anthony held his Edith tight, and looked over at Mycroft.

"I would ask one more thing," said Mycroft Holmes, the man who had had to shoot his own grandson for England.

"Anything," Anthony agreed. Whatever Mycroft Holmes wanted, Mycroft Holmes got.

EAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEAEA

19 years later

Lady Marigold Strallan, as she was known to the world, got out of her car and looked at the old estate house. It was grand, but smaller than Locksleigh. Her younger brother would take the Earldom there in a several years time, though she hoped her father, or the man whom she had always accepted as her father, would live for several more decades with her mother.

Her parents had explained everything to her just over a year ago. What times they had lived in! Marigold had felt at peace with the information, as she knew in her heart she was completely loved by her parents. They had given her everything one could ask for - a loving family, a solid education. She felt less lied to than rather pieces of he puzzle of her life finally revealing themselves. Father had always said she had the natural ability of deduction.

And she certainly couldn't hate her biological ancestry. No, that would be wrong. She held the letter Mycroft Holmes had written to her before he died, five years after she was born. She could just barley remember the man, but he clearly had wanted her to come here. He had left the place to her in his will, explaining its history and their family. She would never deny her heritence of deduction, even if that acceptance came with the unpleasant aspect of Michael Gregson, or Matias Henkle, as he had been known in Germany.

It was time for a new adventure.

The majordomo, Evans, came out to greet her. "Welcome to Sherrinford, Lady Marigold," he said. That was her name for the public. But in her heart she would always be Marigold Strallan-Holmes.