Elizabeth was still sleeping when Laszlo woke up the following morning. He looked across to her as she slept in his bed. The quilt was pulled up over her and she rested on her front, an arm stuffed under the pillow and her cheek turned to the side, her hair running down her naked back. Her other arm was by her side, her lips parted softly. The sun had begun to seep into the room through the gaps around the curtains and Laszlo knew that he had to get up soon. He had to go to work. Besides, he didn't want anyone to catch them together. He had no regret over what they had done, but he didn't want gossip to spread.

He moved to rest on his side, his bad arm underneath his body as he moved his hand out to her back underneath the quilt. His fingers tickled along her bare skin up her spine. He felt her shudder underneath his touch and he remembered how it had felt to have her body pressed up against his. He could still see the look of ecstasy on her face as her hips moved against his, her head tossed back and a red flush taking hold of her cheeks and neck. He could still hear her moans ringing in his ears, moans that he had managed to wrangle from her.

She grunted in her sleep as Laszlo continued to move his fingers along her spine, the motion as light as the touch of a feather. But she was still waking up. She lifted her head up and turned it to the other side so that she could look at him, her eyes still droopy, but a soft smile forming on her face.

"Good morning," she said to him and he tangled the ends of his fingers into her hair.

"Good morning," he responded and he had to admit that he didn't exactly know how to behave. What should he say? What should he do?

"Did you sleep well?"

"Exceptionally," Laszlo said to her. "Although, I suspect it helped that it was quite late before we actually got to sleep."

She bit down on the inside of her cheek, clearly remembering the activities from the previous night. She had almost felt shame in the way she had reacted to him. It was so needy. She had begged for his touch and he had taken his time to tease her, almost as though he enjoyed having control. In a way, he did. He had enjoyed being the one who could make her moan for him.

"I realise that what I said last night…the way people view me…you know…as your whore-"

"-I told you not to refer to yourself as that," he interrupted her, his voice a low growl, the huskiness of his voice exaggerated by his dry morning mouth.

"I know," she said to him. "But if anyone finds out about what we've done then those rumours wouldn't exactly be wrong, would they?"

"You view yourself as a whore for laying with me?" he questioned, still stroking her hair. She shrugged her shoulders awkwardly, still laying flat on her front.

"I don't," she said to him, "because you've always taught me that there is nothing wrong with feeling pleasure. Your work suggests that to be the case, but the issue is that society…while men are lauded for sleeping with women, women are shamed for it."

"I know," Laszlo told her.

"And I just know that society already judges me for moving into your house," she said to him, nodding her head. "I know what people think of me and I regret nothing about last night because I have wanted you for ages, but I just…I just want this to stay between the two of us. I don't want anyone to know."

Laszlo arched his brow, hand running down her side, feeling her shiver as he kept his touch light on her soft skin. He let his fingers dance over her shoulder, running down the arm she had stuffed underneath her pillow.

"And you think I would tell anyone about this?"

"No," she shook her head. "I know that you do not enjoy people knowing about your private life, but I just…you know that I worry…"

"You do, indeed, have a nervous disposition," he said to her and she chuckled at hearing him, arching her brow and sending him a coy look that made his stomach flip at the sight of her. She lifted herself up slightly, bending her arm and resting her head into her hand, the quilt slip down her bare skin.

"Are you analysing me?" she asked from him.

He shook his head. "I've already analysed you," he said to her. "I know you, Elizabeth. I know everything about you."

"And that should scare me," she said to him and she moved to take hold of his hand from her arm, holding onto it and kissing the back of it before resting it in between their bodies. "But it doesn't. It doesn't scare me because you know who I am…you know everything about me…and yet you still told me you loved me."

Laszlo didn't know what to say in response to that. And so, he moved closer to her and lifted his body slightly so that he could kiss her. He struggled to stay mid-air due to the weight on his bad arm, but Elizabeth was already moving to relieve the pressure on him. She forced him to lie on his back and hovered over him, kissing him with a soft pressure. He felt her move so that she was back in between his legs and he could feel her body against his. She pulled back after a moment, her hand resting on his chest, fingers running up and down it as she gently dragged her lips from his.

"You never told me what happened to your arm," she said to him.

He shrugged. "A congenital condition," he informed her. "It was never able to form fully."

"You've had it since birth?"

"Indeed," he nodded his head at her.

"Hmm," she hummed and that was the end of that. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she laid her head down against his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck and chin. She didn't push him for anymore details and he had to admit that he was relieved about that. He might tell her the truth one day, but right then, at that moment in time, he did not want to relive what had happened to his arm. It was best for people to think that he had been born with it over everything else. It was easier, at least.

"As much as I would prefer to stay here with you, I must insist that we get dressed," Laszlo said to her. "At least, I do not want Cyrus, Stevie or Mary to see us leaving the bedroom together."

"I can go back to my own room," she said to him. She agreed with him on that one. She also didn't want people to know what they had been up to. "And last night…everything that happened…I don't want you to think any differently of me."

"What do you mean?" he questioned from her and she shrugged, still running her hand along his chest.

"That you think I am…loose…" she trailed off, unsure about what word to use.

"I never could," Laszlo said to her. "As far as I am concerned, last night things did change, but not because I think any less of you for spending the night in my bed. They changed because we finally admitted our feelings and, going forwards, that might change things."

"How so?" Elizabeth wondered.

"I do not know," Laszlo said to her. "I confess that love is a mystery to me. It is logical, of course. Love is merely chemicals in the brain that cause us to feel differently. You see-"

"-I know that you are a person who is pragmatic," Elizabeth interrupted him, peering up to look at him, her chin resting against his skin and he looked down to her from where he lay on the pillow. He watched her, seeing how her lips arched upwards. "But, when it comes to love, can we not dissect it? Can we not just accept it?"

"You do not wish to know why we feel love? What part of our brain-"

"-No," she interrupted him again, shaking her head against his chest. "I do not want to know any of that. I just want to be in love and not think about why I'm in love or if my brain is tricking me. I just want to be with you."

"Then I should suppose that I might be able to hold my tongue for you," Laszlo declared.

"That is awfully romantic of you," she said and moved to kiss him once more. She kept the motion brief before she climbed from him and he felt a chill as she slid to the end of the of the bed, reaching for a robe that was hung up on the peg at his door. She shrugged into it and then gathered her dress and corset alongside her underclothes. She bundled them into her arms as Laszlo sat up, resting against the steel headboard.

"What are you planning today?" she asked and he was about to comment that she was wearing his robe, but he made no noise.

"I intend to go and see Bishop Potter this morning to see who this boy was he covered for," Laszlo said to her. "And you?"

"I promised Charlotte that I would read with her again and I thought that I could perhaps teach her the basics of piano. I was reading that music can sometimes help children to open up," Elizabeth said, crossing one leg in front of the other and tilting her head to the side. Laszlo had to admit that he was struggling to focus while she stood there looking like she did.

"You've been reading my works?" Laszlo asked, remembering a paper that he had written on mute children and ways to encourage them to speak.

"Only some of them," she said to him. "And I want to help Charlotte. You know that I care about her."

"I know," Laszlo said. "Then feel free to use the piano in my boardroom. I will not be there until this afternoon."

"Thank you," she said and reached for the door handle. "So, I will see you this afternoon?"

"Well, you shall see me at breakfast," Laszlo corrected her and he saw her roll her eyes before she turned the handle. "And Elizabeth?" he said before she could leave. She turned her head over her shoulder to look back to him. He watched her for a few moments before speaking. "I do love you."

"I love you too," she responded and opened the door.

She left him alone and tip-toed down the hallway to her own room. Pushing the door open, she almost startled as she saw Mary sat at the end of her bed. She placed a hand to her chest and gathered her breath, the maid looking at her expectantly. She stepped forwards and closed the door, dropping her clothes down onto the chair in the corner of her room.

"Mary," Elizabeth whispered her name. "What are you doing here?"

Mary pointed to the dress that was hung up on the outside of the wardrobe, indicating that she had come to help her get dressed. Mary pointed to her and Elizabeth looked down at the robe and held her hands up.

"I can explain," she said and the maid cocked her head to the side as Elizabeth went and sat down next to her on the bed. "I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone, Mary. I mean it. I don't want anyone to know what happened."

Mary pressed her hand to her chest, crossing her heart and Elizabeth's lips turned up at seeing her. She took a moment to inhale a deep breath.

"Laszlo told me that he loved me," Elizabeth said and Mary shot her a smile. Elizabeth's smile grew wider at seeing her. "And I told him that I loved him. I spent the night with him…but no one can know. I don't want anyone to know what we have been doing."

Mary nodded. She could keep her secret. She pointed at the wall, indicating to Laszlo's room before tilting her head to the side, her brow rising on her forehead and a look on her face that told Elizabeth that she wanted more details. She had seen that expression on her friends' faces whenever she had just married Jacob and they wanted to know every intimate detail.

"It was good," Elizabeth said, "and that is all I am saying."

Mary looked unconvinced, almost as if she was asking her: "Just good?"

"Fine," Elizabeth admitted with a soft laugh. "It was better than good. He was…very thorough." She had no idea if that was the right word. But Mary placed a hand over her mouth, hiding mute chuckles. Elizabeth felt herself blush and she shook her head. "I need to change," she concluded. "And this stays between us."

Mary placed her hand to her chest once more, able to agree with that. She was just amazed that it had taken them this long to admit how they felt.

….

Elizabeth had tried to teach Charlotte how to play the piano. She had to admit that she was not the best at playing the piano herself. Laszlo had taught her the basics when she had first moved in with him. He would press down on keys and she would copy his movements, looking at the pieces of music on the sheet in front of her. Charlotte had gone to her usual lessons and Elizabeth had stayed in the boardroom, her fingers running over the keys until Laszlo returned to her. The sun had slowly begun to set and he opened the door to the boardroom, keeping quiet. He had heard the playing of music from down the corridor and didn't want to disturb her. He listened for a few moments, resting his hat on the table and slipping out of his coat. He remained where he was, hands in his pockets and cane on the chair in front of him.

She finally stopped playing and he spoke.

"You have gotten much better," he said to her.

She startled, turning her head over her shoulder to look at him. Her hand went to her chest as she regained her composure. "You frightened me," she said to him.

"Apologies," he replied, "I did not want to disturb you while you were playing."

"So you just thought that you would scare me after I had finished playing?" she asked and he saw he smirk on her face. He moved further into the room and sat down on the bench next to her. He reached out and moved his hand over the keys for a few seconds, Elizabeth looking at how nimbly he moved over the keys. She almost wondered how he had learned to play with his bad arm.

"Did you play for Charlotte?" Laszlo questioned from her.

"I did," she nodded her head at him. "And she picked up a few notes, but she said nothing. She…I…her aunt has said that she will not visit her next week."

"And that upsets you."

"Of course it upsets me," Elizabeth responded to him and he moved his hand out to rest on top of hers on her lap, holding onto it gently. He felt her fingers twitch for a moment before she turned her palm towards him, his fingers slipping between hers. "I care about her, Laszlo, and you should see her face when I told her. She looked gutted. She…I think she feels alone…and a child should never feel alone."

"Unfortunately, some children are alone. We can only do what we can for them," Laszlo said to her. "And Charlotte, while you have taken a shine to her, she is just one child of many here whose parents or other loved ones do not care for her."

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying that you…I know that you are attached to her, but there will come a day when she has to go her own way."

"Don't speak like that," Elizabeth urged from him and he saw her face harden. "I know that I might show favour towards her, but it is only because she is so left out here. None of the other children care for her or play with her. I do not want to think of her going into the world on her own…not being loved…having no one who truly cares for her. It's too horrible."

"I understand," Laszlo said to her, nodding his head and wondering just what would happen to Charlotte. He could not deny that Elizabeth had taken quite a shine to her and he suspected that she would struggle to let her go. He only hoped that the reason behind her aunt's absence was explainable and not simply because she did not care enough to visit.

"How was your visit to the Bishop?" Elizabeth decided to ask him instead, the two of them remaining on the piano bench, Laszlo's arm brushing against hers softly.

"Productive," Laszlo said to her. "Roosevelt should be here in the next hour and I can update him on what I have discovered. The boy in question is Willem Van Bergen…the boy who the Bishop covered for. However, I do not believe he is the killer."

"Why not?" Elizabeth queried.

"Because the murderer's victims are boys who remind him of himself. He knows who the boys are and he follows them from church. His infatuation with them being immigrants is also particularly interesting. There is nothing to suggest that he is Van Bergen. He does not fit the profile in the slightest."

"You are certain?"

"Indeed," he nodded his head. "But I doubt Roosevelt will like what I am going to tell him."

"I doubt it too," Elizabeth responded. "Do you think he will listen?"

"Whether or not he chooses to is his prerogative, but he has to know my thoughts," he responded. "Plus, there is something else…the killer…he is following the Christian calendar, Elizabeth. He is killing the boys on holy days."

"He is?"

"He is," he confirmed for her. "Listen to me, Elizabeth, things might become quite intense and I need you to understand that what I do…the way I behave…I only wish to protect you."

"I know," she promised him, "but just swear that you will be careful. Swear to me."

"I swear to you," Laszlo said and looked over to her once more, his gaze meeting and holding hers as he felt that magnetic pull towards her. He couldn't resist it. It was almost like he was completely hypnotised by her. He was besotted. He was consumed with thoughts of only her.

He leaned forwards, lifting his hand up and brushing her hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. His lips found hers once more and he kissed her tenderly, feeling her fingers curl against his neck, holding onto him softly. Her touch tickled him and he shivered under her fingers. He bit down on her bottom lip for a moment, hearing her moan loudly underneath his lips.

"Kreizler, if you are going to summon me here then I…oh…I apologise…"

Pulling back from her, Laszlo wanted to curse loudly. Instead, he made do with muttering in German under his breath before slipping from the piano bench and looking to Roosevelt. He arched his brow at the sight of the man and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"I believe it is customary to knock," Laszlo commented and Elizabeth stood up as well, straightening out the skirts of her dress. "But we would appreciate your discretion, considering what you witnessed with your interruption."

"I thought that it was common knowledge you two were courting?" Roosevelt asked him.

"Indeed it is," Laszlo confirmed with a nod of his head. "But it might not be considered entirely proper to behave in such a manner, especially in my place of work."

"No need to defend yourself to me," Roosevelt promised him. He tipped his hat to Elizabeth. "Miss Morris."

"Commissioner," she inclined her head and then looked to Laszlo. "I will wait for you outside."

"Have Cyrus ready the carriage. We'll return home when I have finished my conversation with the commissioner."

"Of course," Elizabeth said and she left the room, Laszlo's eyes remaining on her back as he watched her go. His lips turned upwards while watching her and Roosevelt almost wanted to chuckle at the sight of him, wondering if he had ever seen Laszlo soften like that before.

She closed the door and Roosevelt wandered further into the room. "I don't think I have ever seen you so hopelessly in love before, Kreizler."

"You are here about the case, yes?"

"Straight to business, I see," he responded.

"I would prefer to keep my private life just that," Laszlo said with a firm nod of his head.

Roosevelt shrugged. He should have guessed. "And do you have an update?"

"Yes, but you are not going to like it."

…

Elizabeth didn't entirely know if their plan would work. They intended to try and lure the killer out by using Stevie as bait. They were going to dress him as a girl and leave him on the street outside a notorious location after having all the brothels closed except for one. He was currently sat in the boardroom with Sara dressing him and placing makeup on his face. They had informed Roosevelt that his presence was required to discuss the plan and to ask for his help. The Feast of Ascension was that evening and if Laszlo's theory was correct, the killer would strike again. They were taking up positions around two of the locations to keep an eye on the situation and catch the killer in the act.

"Will he be safe?" Elizabeth asked from Laszlo after they had informed Roosevelt of the plan and she had gone into the boardroom after the commissioner had left. She found Laszlo by the chalkboard and she managed a soft smile over to Sara as she moved over to him.

"Yes," Laszlo said to her. "I would not let any harm come to him."

They were going into two teams, Marcus and John teaming up on one building to oversee the scene and Lucius and Cyrus on the other building. They would keep a constant watch on Stevie as he remained on the street. They would catch the killer.

"You are not part of the lookout?" Elizabeth questioned, looking at the names written on the buildings on the map, noticing that Laszlo's name was not there. He shook his head at her.

"With my condition, I would not be much help," he said to her, moving to stand behind her, his front almost flush with her back as she continued to stare at the map and John conversed with Sara and Stevie while Lucius and Marcus looked over papers at the other side of the table.

"And this street here…is this the street where the other boys were taken from?" she asked, looking at the x on the map. Laszlo shook his head, moving his arm around her body and pointing his finger down at the map, his hand inches from hers.

"We believe this is where he sees the boys," Laszlo confirmed for her, "and that they are taken around this general area," he moved his finger over the streets and Elizabeth felt his warm breath against her cheek as he spoke.

"So…you have an aerial view of those streets if you stay on top of these two buildings?" she asked, pointing down at them.

"Indeed," Laszlo confirmed for her.

"Are you coming with us tonight, Elizabeth?"

Marcus's voice snapped her from looking at the map as Laszlo removed his arm from where it was, stepping back and away from her to give her space. She felt the loss of the warmth of his body before turning to look at Marcus. He moved down the side of the table, arms folded over his chest.

"I don't know," Elizabeth responded.

"The answer is no," Laszlo said, reaching for his glasses and slipping them onto his nose before looking at a sheet of paper. Elizabeth turned to look to him.

"Why not?"

"Because I told you that I do not want you involved in this," Laszlo responded, peering over at her, glasses slipping down his nose. She arched her brow.

"But you are bringing Stevie and Cyrus into this," she responded to him and he wondered what she was getting at. "Besides, if you are not looking out then I can just stay with you, can I not?"

"If we are to remain in the carriage then I do not see why she cannot come," Sara chimed in. "Besides, if I am to be there then surely it is safe enough for another woman, is it not?"

Laszlo did not relent on that, but he knew that Sara had a point. They had told her that this would be no place for a woman, hence why she was being forced to remain in the carriage. Looking to Laszlo, Elizabeth could see the tension in his jaw. She knew he was not happy, but truth be told, she was not overly bothered about his happiness. She was more concerned with ensuring that he was safe.

"That's settled then," John commented and Elizabeth saw Laszlo drop the paper down onto the desk and leave the room, his footsteps heavy and purposeful. She sighed and shook her head.

"Did I cause your first lover's tiff?" Marcus wondered.

"No," Elizabeth denied to him. "It's fine. He's just…" she trailed off, shrugging. She didn't know how to explain what Laszlo was. She moved out of the boardroom and followed him, finding him heading out towards the yard. She saw him pacing up and down and she folded her arms over her stomach, crumpling up the green dress she wore with the movement.

"You're angry," she observed and he turned to look to her.

"Do you not listen to anything I say?" Laszlo demanded from her. "I told you last night that the way I behave and the things that I do are to protect you. Yet, you insist on coming with us into the throes of danger and I could not stand there and protest without starting an argument in public and letting everyone know that I am behaving that way because I love you."

Elizabeth took a moment to digest the words that he had just spoken. "There are two things that I need to address," Elizabeth said to him. "First of all, I am not coming with you into the throes of danger," she quoted him, standing across from him in the yard, unaware that their five other colleagues were watching from the window upstairs. "I am staying in a carriage with you and Sara. It cannot be that dangerous is you are also allowing Sara to come with you."

"And the second thing?"

"You do not wish to start an argument because you fear that you will let people know you love me?" Elizabeth questioned from him. "People already know that we are courting, Laszlo. You made certain of that when you asked me to dance with you that evening and now you do not want them to know that…what…that you love me? That you are courting me? What is it?"

"I…" Laszlo trailed off. "I do not care what people think, Elizabeth. I made that clear to you, did I not?"

"Yes, before you have done," Elizabeth said to him. "But what you just said is a complete contradiction to that. Is this because of the other night?"

"What?" Laszlo asked, creases forming on his forehead.

"I thought that you said the other night would change nothing, but are you embarrassed by me? Is that it?"

"Of course not," he said firmly. "I simply thought that you wished to keep things private, Elizabeth. I thought that was what you wanted."

"I just did not want anyone to know that we had gone to bed together," she said to him, "not that we're in love. Those are two completely different things, but if you do not want anyone to know then I cannot help but wonder if you-"

"-No," Laszlo interrupted her, not wanting her thoughts to wander too far. He was concerned that she would get the wrong end of the stick. He moved towards her, closing the gap between both of them. "Elizabeth, do not doubt the way I feel for you. Please, do not doubt that. I only…I just did not want to cause a scene in front of everyone upstairs. I thought that perhaps you wanted things to be secret a little longer."

"And that was it?" Elizabeth asked from him. "You did not want to cause a scene? There was nothing more?"

"Nothing more," Laszlo said to her.

"So you do not care if they know about us?"

"They already do," Laszlo responded.

"And you're not embarrassed by me?"

"How could I be?" he responded to her, moving his hand up to her cheek, his fingers tangling into her hair. "And I love you. If anyone asks then I would happily tell them that."

"I believe you."

"I just…this is new to me," Laszlo said to her. "I do not know what it is like to be in love. I mean, I know the symptoms, of course, but-"

"-The symptoms?" she interrupted him and his lips arched upwards and he shook his head.

"Is this where you ask me not to rationalize love?"

"Please," she urged from him.

"So that means I should not compare it to the symptoms of cholera?" Laszlo questioned.

She laughed softly at that and Laszlo continued stroking her hair as she moved her hands to his chest, her back arching. "You'll never be a romantic poet," she said to him. "But yes, please do not compare this to cholera."

"I do not entirely know how to be romantic," he admitted to her.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "You have your moments."

His own lips arched upwards. "Just moments?"

"Just moments," she echoed back to him.

"Then, I apologise if I am not the romantic kind," he said to her. "But do not doubt how I feel."

"I don't," she assured him and he bent down, his lips finding hers. He was grateful that the yard was empty, not entirely wanting to be watched by the nurses at the Institute. He didn't know that they were being watched by Marcus, John, Lucius, Stevie and Sara. He kissed her sweetly, the motion tender and gentle, his beard scraping against her smooth skin before he pulled back from her, forehead brushing hers for a moment. He stood up once more as she ran her hands to his shoulders.

"I missed you last night," Laszlo said to her. "The bed felt empty."

"You missed me?"

"I did," he confirmed with a nod of his head. "Would you consider, perhaps, spending the night with me tomorrow? We do not need to do anything, but I found that I quite enjoyed falling asleep next to you, despite your snoring."

She balled her hand into a fist and punched him against the chest, the motion soft and doing no damage as his lips remained upturned.

"I do not snore," she said to him.

"Yes, you do," he responded. "I heard you."

"Your ears must be clogged."

"I do not think that is the case," he responded and he bent down once more to kiss her. He kept the motion quick and sweet. "But I do not find you any less endearing."

Elizabeth smiled at that and she felt his hand drop down to her waist, holding onto it in his grip.

"And you are not angry now?"

"I am not angry, but I am still not comfortable with you being with us," he responded.

"And I am not comfortable with you constantly putting yourself in danger," she responded to him. "But you appear to refuse to give in on your mission to find this killer and I am coming with you tonight. That is final."

"You are to stay in the carriage out of sight and hidden at all times."

"I can agree with that," Elizabeth said to him.

"Then we can compromise," Laszlo said.

"Glad to hear it," Elizabeth said. "It is almost a shame that Sara is going to be in the carriage with us," she added on, teasing him softly and she saw his cheeks turn slightly red. She chuckled and began to move back inside, taking Laszlo by the arm and urging him forwards with her too.

"Do not put images in my mind," Laszlo whispered down to her as they took the steps. "And after the other evening I am struggling to get those images out of my mind."

"You're not the only one," Elizabeth promised him.

They came back to the boardroom, Laszlo walking in first and Elizabeth following him. The five in the room went silent as soon as they walked back in and looked almost sheepish. Elizabeth wondered what they had been talking about, but Laszlo was already informing them of the plan that was to go ahead. Elizabeth frowned as Sara walked towards her.

"May I have a moment?" she questioned her.

"Of course," Elizabeth said, stepping out of the room and following Sara to the top of the staircase, standing by the window looking onto the street. "What is it?"

"About the other night," Sara said, "what happened at Delmonico's…with the Martins."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, recalling that evening.

"I just wanted to ensure that you are okay," Sara said to her. "I know that you were panicked…by the way you fled…and I just wanted to make certain that you are well."

"I am fine," Elizabeth promised her. "I just…when…when Jacob's father put his hand on me, for a moment I remembered what Jacob had been like. It was like I was back with him again, him touching me…calling me those names…and I panicked. I panicked and I just had to get out of the dining room. I just had to leave."

"I understand," Sara said. "And I do not know how they could stand there and say those things to you. How could they defend their son?"

"They always did," Elizabeth responded to her. "And now you understand why it is pointless trying to go against them. They are too influential in this town."

"It still does not make it right."

"I know," Elizabeth assured her, "but I have learned that it is just the way it has to be. Regardless, I wanted to thank you properly for standing up for me and for defending me."

"Well, it was the right thing to do."

"But you did not have to," Elizabeth replied to her. "No one except for Laszlo has ever defended me against them before. I…I confess that I am not used to people speaking kindly about me."

"Well, I find that incredibly sad," Sara admitted to her. "But I also understand how it feels to be alone…to have to defend yourself…but you are fortunate in a sense. Doctor Kreizler cares very deeply for you. After you had gone…he continued to defend you against them. He was very adamant."

"I can imagine," Elizabeth said. "He…he's always been there. He's…I have nightmares," Elizabeth admitted to the woman, not knowing why she was divulging this information with Sara. It just felt right. It felt right to open up to someone and she trusted her. From what she had seen of Sara, she was a strong woman. She was strong and had a strong sense of justice. "I have nightmares most nights about the past and what happened. Laszlo is always there when I wake up."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes," Elizabeth answered her honestly.

"And how do you know that you love him? That it is not simply infatuation?" Sara queried.

"Because when you know, you know," she promised her. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," she replied. "Anyway, I should return to work. I shall see you this evening, yes?"

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded her head. "Have a good day, Miss Howard."

"Sara," she said to her. "Just call me Sara. I do not think we need to be formal with each other. I very much hope that we are passed such things."

"I would like that too," Elizabeth said to her with a nod of her head.

Sara nodded and left with a gentle expression on her face. She turned on her heel and moved down the staircase, Elizabeth staring after her and wondering just what she had been thinking of when she had asked Elizabeth if she knew how love could be described. Was there something that she was feeling for someone? Elizabeth didn't know, but she was intrigued.

…

A/N: Ahh I loved reading your reviews! Thanks to everyone who commented. There's going to be a bit more drama coming up - love is never smooth! Would love to know what you think in the meantime!