Elizabeth woke up the following morning with a sense of elation in her chest. They had spent the evening out at dinner and Elizabeth knew that there would be gossip the next day. Laszlo had gone to work early, claiming that he had to go and see an old client of his. Elizabeth had tried to ask him who it was, but he had remained tight lipped, almost as though he was embarrassed. He was so confident when it came to discussing sexual matters in work, but not when it came to pleasure. And he needed help. He needed to know why inflicting pain was linked to pleasure.
"Laszlo, I thought you were going to be out all morning?" Elizabeth commented as she bounded down the stairs, dressed in a green dress with a high collar, hair swaying down her back. She smiled over to him and Laszlo coughed into his fist, nodding his head once as she watched him. Tilting her head to the side, she suspected that there was something amiss. He avoided her eye.
"Is everything alright?" she wondered from him.
"Fine," Laszlo promised her, still avoiding her gaze.
Standing on the bottom step, she kept her hand wrapped around the bannister, her other arm dangling by her side and tapping nervously on her thigh.
"Then why can you not look at me?"
He lifted his gaze then and met her eye. "I visited a brothel," he informed her.
Elizabeth's eyes widened and her grip on the bannister increased. "Oh," she said and Laszlo saw the startled look on her face. He swore that if she could see him blush beneath his beard then she would see his skin stained a beetroot colour. He shook his head back and forth, holding a hand up.
"Not like that," he said to her and she took a deep breath alongside a gulp. "I merely meant that I visited a former patient of mine who owns the brothel…to try and understand the killer's mind."
"You think that he derives sexual pleasure from the act of killing?" Elizabeth enquired and Laszlo had to admit that he hadn't thought of her speaking so casually about such an intimate act. He looked to her and he saw her face. Her features were so dainty and she looked so pure and innocent. He shouldn't be tarnishing her with such talk.
"I should not have spoken-"
"-You do not need to wrap me in cotton wool, Laszlo," Elizabeth promised him. "I am able to discuss these things with you."
"I do not doubt it, but I do not know if I am particularly ready to discuss it," Laszlo said to her and reached for the hat from the coatrack, picking it up. "I need some time to think."
Elizabeth nodded. "Usual spot?" she questioned from him.
"I imagine that might be the best place for me to go to," he nodded his head. "Will you be at the Institute later?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said, finally coming down the final step, watching as Laszlo adjusted the grip he had on his cane. "I promised Charlotte that I would go for a walk with her again today, perhaps play on the swing."
"She is coming on leaps and bounds," Laszlo commented.
Elizabeth shrugged. "Her aunt did not visit her the other day, however," she said to him. "I think it upsets her more than she lets on."
"Understandable," Laszlo nodded in agreement. "Then I shall see you there."
"I will talk to you later," Elizabeth said and she watched him scurry away, wondering what exactly had gotten into him.
Laszlo was relieved when he stepped outside into the cool air. He needed something to cool his cheeks down. He didn't particularly want to tell Elizabeth what he had discussed with the madam at the brothel. He almost felt guilt for even entertaining such thoughts, but he was simply a man. He was simply a man who felt lust like every other male.
"Have you not thought about what it is you would enjoy, Doctor Kreizler?" she had sat on the arm of the couch above him. Laszlo had reached for his cup of tea, taking a sip of it and placing it back down, scared he might overspill if he didn't put it back. "I read the Herald this morning and saw the gossip column. Apparently you were spotted dancing with that widow you took in…is it her you think of? Dominating her?"
"I think no such thing," Laszlo responded.
"Come now, doctor," she urged him, leaning forwards as he caught a whiff of her perfume and he turned his face away. "There is no sin in it. In fact, I suspect a man of your intelligence perhaps might actually enjoy the fact that she is not of equal standing, a girl from a bankrupt family with no college education. Do you not think about putting her in her place? Taking charge of her? Showing her that you know best?"
"No," Laszlo said firmly.
"Ah, so is it the other way round?" she enquired. "Do you want her to be the one in charge, doctor? You want her to be the one who dominates you. I suspect she might have more experience. After all, have you ever taken a woman to bed?"
Laszlo snapped out of his thoughts as he reached the park, trying to push that conversation to the back of his mind. He did not wish to think about these things. He arrived in the park and went to the usual bench where he sat, going into a daze and thinking about the killer, trying to work out what sexual gratification he got from killing these boys and displaying their bodies in high places. But then he started thinking about Elizabeth.
He did not deny that he was attracted to her. He had looked at her the night before and felt a longing for her. He had returned home and bid her goodnight, feeling the heat of her body as she leant towards him and kissed him on the cheek. He had watched her close the door to her bedroom and had returned to his own room, imagining how Mary would help her slip out of her dress. He had laid there for hours and thought about her, wondering if she even saw him in the same way.
He looked down to his arm and he wondered how she would feel if she saw it. Would she be repulsed? Would she even want him in such an intimate way? Or was their relationship something else? He suspected he might find out one day, but he would not do anything for the time being. He still remembered how she had opened up to him about what her husband had done to her.
"Doctor Kreizler."
He was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of someone calling his name. Looking up, he saw Sara Howard walking towards him and he wondered if she was still upset after their previous conversation had ended badly. Laszlo moved to his feet and bowed his head in her direction, leaving his hat and cane on the bench behind him.
"Miss Howard," he greeted her.
"The commissioner wanted me to give you this," she said and handed him a parcel, her bag dangling on her wrist as she stretched her arm out. Her face was stern and Laszlo suspected that she was perhaps still aggrieved. Not that he could blame her. He took hold of the parcel from her grip and opened it up. "It's John's drawing kit," she said. "Captain Connor found it."
"John has said nothing about losing this," Laszlo said, looking to the kit and then back to Sara.
"He must have lost it when we were at Castle Garden the other night," she said and he saw her face falter for a moment, no doubt she was remembering the dead boy they had seen there. She had been quite aghast at the sight.
"Won't you sit down?" Laszlo asked from her.
"I was sent on an errand and I have lots of work to do," Sara said and began to turn around on her heel, moving away from him.
"Miss Howard," he called after her and she turned back to look at him, her skirts catching around her legs. "I was wondering if you had given anymore thought to our last conversation?"
"I don't believe I have it in me to kill a child," she responded to him.
"You might surprise yourself," he responded and went to sit back down. "Please, have a seat," he encouraged from her and she huffed once, but did as he had asked her, sensing that it might be easier than to insist on leaving him alone. There was clearly something that he had to get off of his chest. She sat down next to him, keeping a respectable distance from him.
He clasped his hands together and sat up straight, resting the limbs in his lap. "Do you see that woman over there?" he asked Sara.
"Yes," Sara said to him.
"She's from a good family," Laszlo said, looking at the woman who was pushing a pram to and fro, perched on the bench across from them. "She was soon married and gave birth to a boy, and then soon after a girl."
Sara turned to look to him, her voice haughty. "If the purpose of this story was to annoy me, then you've succeeded."
Laszlo shook his head. "The purpose of this story is to make a point that she is quite similar to you," he said to her.
"The only distinction being that she is married and has children."
"She had children," Laszlo corrected her. "It was six months after the birth of her daughter, in a seemingly inexplicable act, that the young woman saw fit to drown both her children in the bathtub. She was only spared from being sent to prison or an institution due to the wealth and influence of her family. However, instead of proper treatment, she walks the park daily and pushes that empty pram."
Laszlo turned his stare onto Sara, watching her with intrigue and trying to weigh up what it was she was feeling. He kept his gaze on her and she, in turn, looked away from the mother, stare harsh and jaw firmly set.
"I have no sympathy for a mother who could take the life of her own children," she responded, throat clenching.
Laszlo nodded. "But you understand the expectations that our society bestows on women," he said to her. "They are to marry…to have children…they must smile when the last thing they want to do is smile. And if you can empathize with that then you know better than most what that poor young woman is going through…that she did not form herself, rather, society created her."
Sara's eyes widened and her face almost softened as she looked back to the woman across the park and Laszlo continued talking.
"You say you cannot understand how a mother could kill a child, but I believe we are all capable of horrible acts. We just need the right or wrong combination of events to make us combust," Laszlo informed her.
"Is that what happened to Elizabeth?" she enquired from him, unable to stop herself from being so inquisitive. She wanted to know exactly what it was that Laszlo had been doing with the young woman at the Institute who had stormed out the other day.
She saw Laszlo look away then, taking his turn to go silent and let his face cloud over.
"She killed her child and husband, did she not?" Sara asked and Laszlo turned his glare over to her. She saw it then. She saw the defensiveness that he had for the woman he had taken in.
"She never killed her child," Laszlo said, voice terse and Sara wondered if she had ever heard him speak so darkly before. She was clearly in unchartered territory now. These were waters she had not dared to tread with the infamous doctor. "She suffered a miscarriage when she was five months pregnant."
"A miscarriage caused by her drinking poison, or am I wrong?"
"Yes," Laszlo hissed. "You are wrong. She never took anything to induce a miscarriage."
"Then the rumours were not accurate."
"Many rumours are not," Laszlo said and he moved to his feet. He reached for his hat, placing it onto his head and then grabbing his cane. "Now, Miss Howard, I am afraid that I must go to work. I have patients that I need to tend to."
"You didn't deny it," she called out to him after he had taken a few steps away from her. Turning his upper body round, he looked back around to Sara. "You never said that she did not kill her husband."
Laszlo pursed his lips. He did not entertain her comment. Instead, he simply inclined his head. "Good day, Miss Howard," he said to her and took off for the Institute.
….
Sitting on the end of Charlotte's bed, Elizabeth looked at the young girl as she held the paper in front of her. Slipping her gloves from her fingers, she dropped them into her coat pocket and then shrugged out of the red, woollen material. She let it fall behind her before reaching for her hair and tugging it over one shoulder. She furrowed a brow as she noted what Charlotte was holding.
"Where did you get a newspaper from?" she questioned from the young girl.
The girl shrugged her shoulders, but still said nothing. She moved the newspaper and pushed it out towards Elizabeth who peered down onto it, looking at the story Charlotte was pointing to in the paper. Elizabeth bit down on her lip and read the story quickly. It was the gossip column. It was a story about her and Kreizler being spotted looking intimate at Delmonico's the night before.
"Well, I suspected this might happen," Elizabeth mumbled more to herself than Charlotte. Picking her gaze up, she took the newspaper and tossed it behind her. She smiled over to the little girl and shrugged. "I suppose I am courting Doctor Kreizler," she said to the girl. "But don't worry, it doesn't mean that I will stop coming here and seeing you. Come on, we should go for a walk. I promised that I would take you on the swings."
She stood up and offered Charlotte her hand. The little girl took hold of it tentatively and slipped from her bed. Elizabeth walked with her down the staircase, talking aimlessly about the weather and how nice it was outside. Coming to the playground, Elizabeth moved forwards to the swings in the corner, seeing how quiet they were.
The little girl jumped onto the seat and Elizabeth stood behind her. She began pushing her, watching her hold onto the chains and push her legs out in front of her. The laughter and yells from the other children echoed in her ears as they ran around and she almost wondered how some of them could be in the Institute. They all seemed so carefree with no problems. But she should know better that the mind worked in mysterious ways.
"Elizabeth, I had not expected to see you here."
Looking over to Helen, one of the head nurses, Elizabeth smiled at her as she came to stand besides her. Elizabeth continued pushing Charlotte on the swings, her grey dress flowing out in the wind as she went up and down.
"Why not, Helen?" Elizabeth wondered from the woman dressed in a black dress, carrying folders in her fingertips against her chest.
"Well…after last night…we wondered if perhaps you might stop coming now that you are officially courting Doctor Kreizler."
Elizabeth laughed softly. "I am simply courting him, Helen. That does not mean that I suddenly become incapable of being able to help out round here."
"Yes," Helen said with pursed lips, "but there seems to be only one child you are keen to help."
Elizabeth wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn't bother. Instead, she noted Laszlo making his way across the yard, leaning slightly on his cane as he approached the two women. He looked to where a young boy was stood by the wall, kicking at it with his ball as Elizabeth finally noticed him. She recognised the boy. He was called Ezra and had been in the Institute for a while now, but his parents had not come to visit him as of yet.
"Ezra, stop that," Helen urged from him and then looked to Laszlo as he stood before them. "They're all restless today. I think it is the full moon."
Elizabeth scoffed and Laszlo even looked exhausted. "It certainly has nothing to do with the moon, Helen," he promised the woman at the same time Ezra kicked the ball so hard that it rebounded off the wall and hit against Laszlo's shoe. Elizabeth watched him bend down to pick it up and she wondered what was going on in his mind. He seemed even more on edge than usual. She suspected he might have just had a session with a potential new child who would join the Institute. He always seemed on edge after those.
Walking over to Ezra, Elizabeth let him talk to the boy as she stopped pushing Charlotte and went to sit down on the seat next to her, holding onto the chain with both hands and looking at the little girl.
"You know, when I was a little girl, my mother sometimes used to miss things that I did…Christmas concerts…ballet recitals, although I was a terrible dancer," Elizabeth said and Charlotte looked down to her lap. "But that didn't mean that I loved her any less or that she loved me any less. Sometimes, adults just aren't very good at expressing emotion or turning up when they are supposed to."
Charlotte simply shrugged. Elizabeth wanted to sigh for the little girl. Her aunt hadn't visited her for the past two months and she wondered why. How could she turn her back on her niece?
"But, you know that nothing will change, right?" she asked from Charlotte. "I might be officially courting Doctor Kreizler, but he won't keep me away from here…and I'll still visit you."
Charlotte's eyes widened and she held her little finger out towards Elizabeth. She wanted her to promise her. Elizabeth moved her own hand out, letting her finger entangle with the girl's finger and she bent forwards.
"I promise," she said and tucked Charlotte's hair behind her ear and brushed her finger on her nose. "Now come on, you have lessons starting in a while."
Charlotte nodded and jumped down from the swing, Elizabeth affectionately running a hand down her hair as she ran off at the same time Ezra yelled loudly, kicking the football against the wall. All the other children looked around at him as Laszlo spoke with the young boy and Helen urged all of the children to go inside and prepare for their lessons. But that was not before Laszlo kicked the ball against the wall, the motion filled with anger and pent up aggression.
Elizabeth's brow furrowed, wondering what was wrong with him. She waited until everyone had gone inside before sitting down on the swing once more, swaying back and forth on it. Laszlo kept watching the ground and Elizabeth waited until he was ready to talk before she spoke. He finally sniffed and huffed loudly, turning to look to Elizabeth. She arched a brow at him and tilted her head to the side.
"What is it?" she wondered from him.
"Just frustration," he grunted back and went towards her. He sat down on the swing next to hers and she continued swaying back and forth, her gaze set on him as he remained still.
"With the case?" she enquired.
"Amongst other things," Laszlo grunted back to her.
She didn't push him. Instead, she remained silent and let him be the one to initiate conversation.
"Miss Howard found me in the park earlier," Laszlo said to her. "She asked me about you. She asked me about your past."
"Oh," Elizabeth said, voice falling flat. "Why?"
"I asked her if she thought she had it in her to kill a child as our killer does," Laszlo spoke. "She informed me that she did not and then proceeded to ask me about you."
"About how I killed my child?"
"You did not kill your child," Laszlo said, his voice stern and Elizabeth scoffed, fingers clenching the chain of the swing and she stopped swaying on the seat, her heels digging into the dirt.
"I knew not to anger him," Elizabeth responded.
"That does not mean that you killed your child," Laszlo said, voice still stern. "Elizabeth, do not think that. I never want to hear you say that. Do you understand me?"
"It's hard not to, Laszlo," she admitted, her hand moving to her stomach. "You know, I sometimes swear that I can feel a flutter in my stomach…but what kind of a woman am I when I cannot protect my own baby? I was always raised to have children. My sole purpose was to find a man and bear his children. I could not even do that."
"You believe that is your sole purpose?"
"I don't know what my purpose is, Laszlo," she responded, shaking her head. "I still feel lost…"
"You have time to discover your purpose," Laszlo said, "but what happened will never be your fault. It will always be Jacob's fault."
"You do not need to humour me."
"I am being honest, Elizabeth," he responded and moved to his feet, walking around her, standing by her back. He pushed her on the swing with one hand. She turned her head over her shoulder to look up to him. "You know me, I am nothing if not honest."
"Almost too honest," she responded and Laszlo's lips pulled upwards as he continued to push her gently. "What did Miss Howard say to you after you told her the truth?"
"I did not tell her the truth," Laszlo responded earnestly. "I simply told her that the rumours about you were not true. It is not my place to divulge what happened to you. I know how you prefer to keep it private."
"Thank you," she said.
"You do not need to thank me," he told her with a shake of his head.
She dug her heels into the dirt once more and stopped swinging. She moved to her feet and wandered around the swing. She placed her hands onto his shoulders, gripping them gently and then standing on her toes, kissing him softly on the cheek.
"I do," she said firmly.
"No, you really do not," he reiterated. "Now, shall we return home? I would quite like to spend some time with you tonight away from prying eyes."
"So no fancy dinner?"
"I think we have caused quite enough gossip from our display last night," Laszlo said and Elizabeth chuckled, running her hands along his shoulders before he lifted his hand up and brushed his fingers into her hair. "So, tonight, I would quite like a quiet evening."
"I can agree with that."
…
Elizabeth had been sat on the couch, assuming her familiar position against Laszlo's side as he read a case file in his lap. His arm remained around her shoulders, his fingers brushing against her upper arm, ruffling up the material of the sleeve of her dress. She had let her head rest against his shoulder, her book in her lap with her legs curled up underneath her.
"I think that Charlotte was worried," she suddenly said and Laszlo finished reading his sentence before looking down to her. "She saw the article in the newspaper today. I had no idea that they even had access to newspapers."
"I imagine a nurse left it lying around," Laszlo said to her. "I've noticed them staring at me all day with a knowing look."
"Perhaps," Elizabeth said to him. "But I told her that she had no need to worry…I don't intend on abandoning her as her aunt seems to have done."
"You know that there will come a day when she can no longer stay at the Institute," Laszlo said to her. "She will not always be a child."
Elizabeth's brow furrowed and she moved to sit up, kneeling on the couch and looking over at him as his arm slipped from her shoulders and down her back, resting in the small of it, enjoying the way his fingers felt dipping into it.
"Then what happens to her?"
"Well, hopefully she will be adjusted to return to a normal life," Laszlo said. "She will be returned to her aunt's care."
"And if her aunt does not want her? She has missed the previous couple of visitations, Laszlo."
"Time shall tell, Elizabeth," he said to her. "There might be a reason why she has not made the visits. Do not go jumping to conclusion or fretting over the girl."
"I will try not to just yet," she said and Laszlo bent down to kiss the top of her head tenderly, letting his chin rest there as she moved back to rest against his shoulder.
He felt her move so that her back was against his side, giving her time to pick up his hand and press her lips to his knuckles. He swore he felt a warmth pool in the bottom of his stomach at the heat of her kiss. Did she have any idea what she did to him? He looked over the top of her head, noting the way her chest heaved as she kept her book perched in her lap, knees bent so that she could read it. He saw the way her neck arched, pale skin emerging from the collar of it as he thought back to that morning and what the woman in the brothel had said to him.
"Do you not imagine it? You…begging for her to give you what you want…the feel of her flesh against yours?"
Before Laszlo could even shake that image from his head, the front door opened, the familiar voice of John entering his ears. Moving into the room, John looked at the sight he was walking in on, his own lips arching.
"If it isn't the two lovebirds," he commented and Laszlo removed his arm from Elizabeth, trying to clear his mind of his sinful musings. He stood up as Elizabeth moved to sit up straight and stand. "You two have become quite the talk around here. My grandmother even asked me if I knew the infamous Doctor Kreizler was seen with his ward."
"She thinks that I am his ward?" Elizabeth asked, moving towards John. "That makes me sound young."
"Well, she is old," John responded and bent down to peck her on the cheek, greeting her with a smile. "So, what is it like to be seen with such a public figure?"
"Oh, don't inflate his ego," Elizabeth urged from John and he chuckled as Laszlo reached into his bookshelf and pulled out John's drawing kit. He looked over to Elizabeth as she continued to smile, flashing her teeth in his direction and he struggled not to smile back to her. Looking to John, his lips dropped slightly.
"I have something of yours," he said and handed him his drawing kit. "Why did you not tell me that you had lost it?"
"Truthfully, I did not know that I had lost it," John responded, looking inside for a moment.
"Either you knew it or you didn't," Laszlo replied with a shrug of his shoulders and Elizabeth almost wanted to sigh, suspecting that the two men might be about to get involved in another argument. There was still tension between them after what Laszlo had said the other day.
"John, would you like a drink?" Elizabeth asked from him.
"A whiskey would not go amiss," John said and Elizabeth nodded, moving to the drink's cart in the corner that Laszlo kept fully stocked. She poured a glass as Laszlo sat back down on the couch, John moving to the armchair.
"I have news of the boy killed at Castle Garden," John informed Laszlo. "I met a friend of his, a young boy called Joseph. He told me the victim had met a saint who had promised to take him to a castle in the sky."
"Here you go," Elizabeth handed John the glass of whiskey and he bowed his head in thanks as she returned to sit down next to Laszlo, leaving a small gap between them, trying to keep a respectable distance, not that John would mind.
"Were you jealous when Julia left you for another man?" Laszlo suddenly asked and Elizabeth wondered what this had to do with the case.
"Laszlo," she hissed his name.
"Are you trying to rub more salt into my wounds?" John demanded from him, downing the alcohol in the glass.
"I do not ask for sport," Laszlo promised, looking between the two of them.
John sighed loudly, shaking his head. "Of course, I was jealous," he said, looking over to the window for a moment.
"And has that jealousy become part of your sexual ritual when you sleep with prostitutes?" Laszlo continued pushing him, regretting that he had to do this in front of Elizabeth, but knowing that it was for the case. This was for work, not pleasure. He got no pleasure in knowing about John's sexual escapades.
"Laszlo, really?" Elizabeth pushed him.
There was an awkward moment of silence.
"He understands," Laszlo simply said, looking back to John. "Is it the moment you met her or when she abandoned you?"
John faltered then, dropping the empty glass from his hand. It dropped to the carpet and thankfully didn't break. He bent down and picked it up, his jaw tensing as he answered the question.
"When she betrayed me," he said to Laszlo. "A sense of shame affects me somehow, but this is not a conversation that we should have in front of a lady, particularly one that you are now romantically involved with."
"Elizabeth understands that this is for the case," Laszlo said and she bit down on her tongue. Did she really? "The killer is eroticizing a past trauma. The act of murder mirrors something that was done to him."
"And how will divulging into our own minds find him? It won't."
"And we won't find him by looking for men with silver smiles," Laszlo responded. "Chasing clues will always mean that he is a step ahead of us. We need to get behind the clues. But, if you are so convinced by your theories then you should go and speak with a dentist."
Elizabeth shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ears as John stood up, slamming his glass down on the table next to the chair. "Why must you push away those who care for you?" he demanded from Laszlo. "How long will it be before you push Elizabeth away with your callous tongue?"
"I do not push you away because you always come back," Laszlo said, ignoring to comment on what he had said about Elizabeth.
John shook his head and moved from the chair. He looked to Elizabeth and spoke harshly. "You deserve better than him," he said firmly.
She said nothing to him and he stormed out, the door slamming behind him. Elizabeth looked over to Laszlo as he remained sat on the edge of the couch. Tilting her head to the side, she looked to him and arched her brow.
"What was that about?"
"That was work," Laszlo said to her.
"Asking John about his sexual preferences was work?" Elizabeth checked with him. "I do not see how knowing what he enjoys in the bedroom is going to help you catch this killer."
"Because we all have certain desires," Laszlo responded. "I needed John to see that."
"But you did not need to do that to him," Elizabeth said. "And then pushing him away…Laszlo…"
"I simply gave him a push," Laszlo said to her. "John knows who I am and how I work. I also know how John works. Occasionally, he needs a push in the right direction…to become riled up to do his own investigative work…"
She furrowed her brow as Laszlo stood up. "You want him to go to a dentist? To confirm that the killer can indeed have silver teeth?"
"Perhaps so," Laszlo said.
"Then why not ask him?"
"Because this is John. He works better when he has a point to prove and he has that point right now," Laszlo said to her. "Do not worry. Come tomorrow, he will be fine and he will be back to declare what he has found to me. But he did have one point that was right. You are far too good for me."
Elizabeth scoffed. "I do not believe that," she said. "And I do not think he thinks that. He was angry."
"I know, but it was no less true."
"No, it isn't," she said to him. "But you do need to stop pushing him like that. Asking him about Julia…I know you have unorthodox methods when working a case, but it was not nice. Would you ever dream of asking me about my sexual activities?"
"Of course not," Laszlo said with a shake of his head and she stood up, hands laced in front of her.
"Why not?"
"Because…well…it would not be courteous…"
"But asking John is fine?" she continued to ask him. "You care for him and you care for me, but you would never dream of asking me such a question. Can you not see how that is slightly hypocritical and unfair?"
"I…I dare not ask you about that because you are a woman…these things should be private, Elizabeth."
"You told my sister at the Institute that it was only natural for women to have sexual desires," she reminded him, shrugging her shoulders. "Women are able to know about those things as well as men. We have desires too."
"I do not think we should be discussing this," Laszlo said to her.
"And now you become a prude," she commented.
"Not a prude," Laszlo said to her. "I just…discussing this with you is not proper. I am courting you, Elizabeth. I should show some decency in our conversation."
"No, there is something more."
"There is nothing more."
"Don't push me away."
"I worry that I will repulse you!" he finally snapped and she watched him begin to pace around the parlour room. She remained where she was, seeing his hand begin to twitch by his side, his other hand going through his hair. "My arm…I am a cripple, Elizabeth. I am a cripple and I know that when it comes to intimate matters then I might not be a man who can give you what you want…and that…I never want to be unable to give you everything you deserve."
Elizabeth felt herself begin to tear up. How could he even suggest that? She shook her head and her mouth dried out. "I never thought that your arm made you any less of a man," she said to him.
"How could you not?" he responded, looking to the ground and she moved towards him. Laszlo let her stand in front of him, her hand going to his cheek and stroking it softly, her fingers scratching against his beard as she completed the motion.
"Because an arm does not define you," she whispered to him and he felt her lean in to kiss his cheek. Pulling back, her hand moved down to hold his. "Do you trust me?" she asked from him.
He nodded his head, feeling his temper calm at the feeling of her so close to him. She nodded back and moved her fingers to the cufflinks he wore. She pulled at them on the sleeve of his shirt, removing them and setting them down on the ledge of the mantelpiece. She rolled the sleeve up, seeing how his arm was smaller than his other. It looked like a broken wing, but it did not bother her in the slightest. Kneeling down on the ground, Laszlo's breathing hitched at the sight of her as she looked at his arm and kissed the back of his hand softly. She stayed where she was before him and Laszlo could only watch with bated breath as she pressed her lips to the crook of his arm and left them there for a few moments before he moved his other hand out to her. She took hold of his hand and he helped her back to her feet. She stood in front of him, her lips parted and cheeks flushed.
"See?" she said to him. "I could never be repulsed by you."
Laszlo tucked her hair behind her ear before he leant in and she did the same. Her nose brushed against his before she closed her eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing to hers. He was tentative to begin with, clearly unsure on what he was doing for a few moments before he seemed to adjust to the feeling. It was strange, the feeling of intimacy developing in his chest. He began to move his mouth against hers, feeling her hand press to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist.
He deepened the kiss, his lips hungrily roaming over hers and he felt her moan as soon as his tongue swept over her bottom lip. He was acting purely on instinct, but judging from the way she pressed her body tighter to his, she didn't seem to mind. Her hands went to his neck, gripping hold of it firmly as he walked her backwards, his lips not once leaving hers until she was by the back of the couch. She fell onto it and Laszlo watched as their lips parted with the sudden movement.
"Are you alright?" Laszlo asked and she laughed, nodding her head.
"Perfectly fine," she said to him.
"I did not mean to be so forward," Laszlo said to her and she shook her head, biting down on her bottom lip.
"I'm not complaining," she said and she looked up to him, her gaze almost coy and her lips turned upwards. He took a moment to wonder what she was saying before he began wondering if this was what she liked. Did she like it when he took control? Did she like it when he was forward?
He decided to try his luck once more, bending at the waist, his lips finding hers again and she pulled at him until he was practically laid on top of her on the couch, her legs parting to give him more room, but her skirts getting in the way. He felt her reach out to tangle her hands into his hair, holding onto it and no doubt messing it up completely. He pulled away after a moment when he felt her chest press to his, looking her in the eye.
"This is not proper," he managed to speak.
"In case you hadn't noticed, we're not entirely proper, Laszlo," she responded to him and he let his own lips arch at that. He supposed she had a point on that. "Are you not enjoying yourself?"
"Almost too much," he mumbled to her and she chuckled, her hand running along his neck, her fingers tickling his skin.
"Then just stop thinking for two more minutes," Elizabeth encouraged him. "Besides, we can stop whenever you want to…whenever we want to…"
"I'm scared of hurting you," Laszlo admitted to her. "I don't want to hurt you, Elizabeth."
She shook her head. "You won't hurt me," she promised him.
"You'll tell me if I ever hurt you, won't you?" Laszlo asked from her and she sensed there was a deeper meaning to his question. Looking into his eyes, she saw that his gaze was soft, almost as though he was nervous that he was going to do something to push her away. But that wasn't going to happen. She wouldn't let him.
"I will," she promised him.
Nodding once more, he bent down and kissed her again, lips roaming over hers as she did her best not to feel overwhelmed with emotion. How many nights had she dreamt of this? How many evenings had she laid awake and wondered exactly what he was doing in his own room? She felt his hand cautiously run along the side of her waist and drop down to her thigh. Bending her knee, she kept him nestled between her legs, his hand slipping to her ankle and running along her thigh that was covered in her stocking. He felt the smooth material of it tickle his fingers as he moved them up to her knee, resting there and dragging her skirt up with him.
He only peered up when he heard footsteps approach and he saw Mary stood in the doorway. He startled as Elizabeth tilted her head back on the arm, looking at Mary upside down and realising what a sight they must have looked like. The maid held her hands up and backed out the room, Elizabeth swearing that she was laughing as Laszlo called out to her.
"Mary…was there something you needed?" he asked, Elizabeth's cheeks turning red and a laugh threatening to break out at the situation.
Mary walked back into the room, signing to Laszlo that she didn't need anything as he disentangled himself from Elizabeth, leaving her laid on the sofa, a leg still bent to reveal her stocking clad calf. Mary backed out as Laszlo looked down onto Elizabeth laid there, chest rising and falling quickly with her short, panting breath.
"If you continue to lay there like that then I cannot be held responsible for my sinful thoughts," Laszlo informed her and she laughed at him, but moved to sit up, pushing her dress back down her leg as Laszlo sat back on the couch and she leant forwards, her forehead resting on his shoulder as she remained curled in a ball by his side. He looked down to her, adjusting his tie and then kissing the top of her head.
"I always felt I had to be delicate with you…tread carefully…"
"And that means a lot to me," Elizabeth promised him, looking up to him once she lifted her head up. "But I won't break, Laszlo."
"I can see that," he said to her. "But perhaps we should take things steady? It might save us from further embarrassing situations."
"As you wish," Elizabeth said, kissing him once more and Laszlo wondered if she was trying to kill him before she pulled back and laid her head on his shoulder, the two of them gathering their breath and calming themselves.
...
A/N: Would love to know if anyone is still interested - as always love your comments/thoughts/suggestions!