Elizabeth sat in the carriage next to Laszlo while Sara sat across from then with Stevie next to her. Elizabeth looked at Laszlo's young ward and she almost wondered if he was going to be fine. He was strong. She knew that Stevie was strong. He was a young boy, but he had the wits of a young man. He had more street smarts than any young man Elizabeth had known when she had been part of New York's high society before she had disgraced herself. Chewing down on the inside of her cheek, she leant back in the seat as Laszlo looked to Stevie and Elizabeth knew that he was worried. He was worried for his ward and he wanted him to be safe. But they had put precautions in place to ensure nothing happened to him.

"Stevie, listen to me," Laszlo encouraged him. "The man we are looking for is about twenty-four to thirty-five years in age. He is likely to have a recognisable facial trait."

"Mr Moore said silver teeth," Stevie said.

"Possibly," Laszlo replied, not entirely convinced. But he wasn't going to rule anything out. He was trying to open up his mind to all possibilities. "And also he will likely offer to take you somewhere."

"Away to a castle, I know," Stevie said.

"The point is that you are to remain alert," Sara said to him. "And if you feel yourself in any danger at all then you are to signal that you need help."

"I'll be alright," Stevie responded.

"Do you remember the signal?"

"Polish my shoe on the back of my leg," he said and Laszlo nodded.

"You mustn't hesitate," Sara encouraged from him.

"I know how to take care of myself," he promised her.

There was a moment of silence in the carriage and Elizabeth looked to the young boy. She knew he knew how to take care of himself, but the fact remained that what he was about to do could be considered dangerous. And she didn't want to see him get into trouble. She knew that he was strong, but he was still just a boy. He was a boy who deserved protection.

"How does he look?" Sara wondered. She had been the one to dress him and apply the makeup to his face.

"Lovely," Laszlo answered and Stevie made a soft grunting noise and turned away, looking down to the ground before Laszlo realised that they had to act. "Right, Stevie, out you go," he said to him. "Quickly now."

"Be careful," Elizabeth added on and Stevie nodded, climbing out of the carriage.

Laszlo sat back in his seat then and he felt Elizabeth take hold of his arm. She let her fingers wrap around it and hold it tightly as he looked down to her and Sara glanced out of the window, not looking at the exchange and giving the two a moment. Elizabeth looked up to Laszlo, her lips parting as she mouthed up to him, asking him if he was alright. He nodded back that he was fine, his gaze searching hers before he felt her remove her hand from his arm and he instantly missed the warmth of her touch. He doubted he would ever tire of having her close to him.

"How long do you think it will be before we know anything?" Sara wondered, the sun beginning to set and the air beginning to chill. Elizabeth wrapped her coat tighter around her body and dropped her head back to the seat behind her.

"It depends," Laszlo responded. "We could be here most of the night. We won't know anything until Stevie makes a move."

"And he'll be fine, won't he?" Elizabeth double-checked and Laszlo looked back to her as Sara's gaze moved onto her. "He's going to be fine?"

"No harm will come to him," Laszlo assured her. "Cyrus and Lucius have one side of the street covered and Marcus and John have the other side. He will not be out of their sight at once."

"You're certain?"

"I am certain," he promised her, reaching into the pocket of his coat for his glasses. He pulled them out and slipped them onto his nose, reaching down his side for the files he had brought with him, figuring that if they were going on a late-night stakeout that he could do some work with him. "Do not fret, Elizabeth."

"Easier said than done," she mumbled and Sara reached into her purse, tugging out a silver tin and taking a cigarette from it. Laszlo moved his hand out to Elizabeth's knee as Sara turned her attention out of the window, lighting the cigarette and inhaling on it. Squeezing her knee over the green dress she wore, he hoped that he had been able to at least comfort her.

"You have a maternal instinct," Sara suddenly spoke, looking to Elizabeth after she had finished blowing a cloud of smoke out of the carriage. Elizabeth looked over her and Laszlo watched the exchange, hoping that Sara didn't say anything out of turn. She knew what had happened to Elizabeth's son. "I have seen it when you are at the Institute with the children."

"I don't know about that," Elizabeth denied, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Sara shook her head. "No," she said to her. "I find that some women take to children more than others. You are the former."

"Maybe," Elizabeth said. "Ever since my miscarriage, I am not entirely certain on that anymore."

Laszlo inhaled a sharp breath at hearing her mention the miscarriage. She rarely spoke about it and he rarely brought it up. He knew she had nightmares about it and he knew she lived with the guilt of what had happened to her unborn son, despite the fact Jacob had been the one to hurt her. But, no matter how many times he told her that, she was reluctant to see it that way.

"I am," Sara told her. "And that miscarriage was not your fault. You would have made a fine mother…you still might," she added on, her gaze darting across to Laszlo as he lowered his to the folders on his lap. He said nothing and Elizabeth wondered what he was thinking about. She watched him as he picked his pen back up and went back to making notes.

He had told her that he loved her, but they had said nothing more after that. Yes, they were officially courting, but Elizabeth knew what traditionally followed that. The engagement would come after an acceptable number of months. Then there would be the wedding and eventually there would come the expectation of having children. But did Laszlo want any of that? She didn't know and she knew it was far too soon in their relationship to be thinking about it, but her mind often ran away with her. It always did when it came to the doctor next to her.

"Apologies," Sara said when no one spoke, "I fear I spoke out of turn."

"Not at all, Miss Howard," Laszlo assured her. "Everything you said was true."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. So had he thought about it? She didn't know and she wasn't going to push him while they sat in the carriage. She went silent and contented herself with sitting back in the seat and closing her eyes, hearing the sound of passers by speaking loudly and carriages going by them. Laszlo focused on his work and Sara also was left to her own thoughts. Occasionally, he would glance across to Elizabeth, seeing her eyes closed and he wondered if she was sleeping.

He kept wondering what she had been thinking when Sara had spoken. Did she even want children? Did she want to try and have children after her miscarriage or would she be content not having any? Laszlo didn't know the answer to that and he didn't want to ask her or push her. They had only just admitted how they felt, but he wasn't going to tell her that he had already wondered when it was the right time to propose to her. He had thought about it for a long time, considering if she could ever love him as he loved her when he thought about his future.

Time ticked by and before Laszlo knew it, the only light came from the shining streetlamp they had parked beneath and the two lanterns in the carriage. The night was well and truly upon them and Elizabeth was most certainly dozing off, her breathing having become lighter and her head dropping to the side.

Pulling out his pocket watch from his waistcoat, Laszlo looked down onto it. "It is ten twenty-three," he commented, keeping his voice low and he glanced to Sara who was taking a drag on another cigarette. "I thought that perhaps you might want to return home as it is getting late."

"The commissioner expects me to be here," she said to him and noted how Elizabeth shifted in her sleep and Sara wondered how she could be comfortable, curled up in a ball on the seat, head dropping onto her own shoulder and arms wrapped around herself. Laszlo grunted his agreement with Sara's comment and went back to his own work, looking down at his folder.

"May I ask you a question?" Sara spoke. "Why do you refer to yourself as a cripple?"

Laszlo knew that she had been watching him hold onto his folder with his bad arm, occasionally letting out a little grunt whenever he moved it in a way that aggravated it. He peered up and over to her once again, but when he spoke he lowered his gaze. But she kept hers firmly on him, her stare unrelenting.

"I am afflicted with a congenital defect. My arm never fully formed as it should have," he said with a nod of his head.

Sara's brows rose on her forehead. "I hadn't noticed," she said to him and he wondered if that was the entire truth, but he didn't push her. Instead, he went back to his work and wondered just how Stevie was getting on out there. He continued to check his watch, Elizabeth still sleeping soundly next to him. It was only when the clock struck three in the morning did he hear the familiar sounds of her whimper. Sara's eyes shot up after having drooped slightly, tiredness also taking hold of her.

"Is she alright?" Sara asked, voice full of concern.

"It is a nightmare," Laszlo informed her. "She has them quite often."

"She mentioned that to me," Sara said.

Laszlo nodded. "Miss Howard, if you would not mind giving us a moment?" he questioned as Elizabeth whispered in her sleep, her voice laced with distress. Sara happily obliged, jumping out of the carriage and walking a short distance, but intrigue getting the best of her and staying within earshot.

"Elizabeth," Laszlo whispered her name. "Elizabeth…dear…wake up…"

He had placed his folder and pen onto the vacant bench across from him and had left his glasses on top of it. Moving his good hand to her arm, he shook her gently, the motion not too harsh, but enough to wake her up. She startled, gathering her breath and trying not to pant too loudly. She bent at the waist slightly as Laszlo moved, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she leant against him, resuming her usual place when she woke up from her nightmare. She gathered her breath and Laszlo bent down, his chin pressing against the top of her head before he kissed her hair.

"Why will they not go away?" Elizabeth whispered.

"In time they will," Laszlo assured her. "They will become less frequent and you will be free from them. Which one was it this time?"

"The miscarriage," she whispered.

Laszlo nodded, resting his cheek against her head as she moved a hand to wipe away the sweat that had formed on her brow. Laszlo watched her complete the motion before he spoke.

"Understandable," he declared. "I imagine our earlier topic of conversation might have brought this on. Do you wish to return home? I can take you back-"

"-No," Elizabeth interrupted, shaking her head and furrowing her brow as she looked around the carriage. "Where is Sara?"

"Just outside," Laszlo said to her. "I asked her just to give us a minute until I had woken you and you had calmed down. I told her that this was quite normal for you."

Elizabeth chuckled darkly at that and Laszlo's grip around her shoulders increased. She turned her head up to look at him, forcing his cheek from her head. Her eyes met his and he held her gaze, his stare intense as it always was and he watched her eyes flicker around to look at his features. He wondered what she was doing before she bowed her head and pressed her cheek against his neck, her hair tickling his chin.

"I know that this was not what you signed up for when you took me in…helping me overcome what happened."

"That is exactly what I signed up for," Laszlo promised her. "I knew when you came to me that you would not be well…that you would suffer the repercussions of what your husband did to you and that is what I have noticed."

"But still," Elizabeth said to him, "I did not realise that it would be this intense and then the other night-"

"-We do not need to discuss that," Laszlo promised her. "There is no reason for us to discuss it."

"But is it because of what happened?" Elizabeth wondered from him. "Could there be a link?"

"It is possible," Laszlo admitted to her.

"And we did not discuss it then and we have not discussed it since," she reminded him. "I do not regret what we did."

"Nor do I," Laszlo said to her.

Sara's brow furrowed and she wondered just what the two of them were talking about. Whatever it was, it was certainly an intimate detail and she wondered if it was about their activities in the bedroom. It certainly sounded like it. Her eyes widened as she heard them go quiet and she glanced back to the carriage, seeing that Laszlo had bent down and was kissing her. She looked away again, almost as though she had interrupted a private matter. She had often wondered what it meant to be intimate with someone. She was only a woman. She had cravings. She had urges.

She looked back to the carriage when the door opened once more.

"Miss Howard," Laszlo said to her and she nodded, heading back to the carriage again.

Closing the door behind her, Laszlo resumed his seat and Elizabeth managed a soft smile in her direction.

"I apologise," Elizabeth said to her. "You did not need to see that."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Sara said. "I understand completely."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said back to her and realised that she wouldn't be falling asleep again.

They lapsed back into silence for the rest of the evening. Laszlo went back to focusing on his work and Elizabeth looked down to her lap. Laszlo would sometimes clear his throat while Sara observed the two of them, wondering just what had happened between them the previous night.

…

That evening had proved fruitless. The killer had not shown his face and Stevie hadn't recognised anyone with a distinct facial feature. Laszlo had questioned himself, wondering if he was wrong about what had happened. He wondered if the killer was not picking holy days. He had walked back home, needing air and to clear his mind. Elizabeth had gone back with Stevie and Cyrus, helping the young boy remove the makeup from his face.

They had spent the next week in some kind of daze, going between the Institute and the house. Laszlo would lock himself away with his work. Ever since his theory had proved fruitless, or so he thought, he had been particularly down. Elizabeth had given him space, but she was becoming tired of him only exchanging pleasantries.

It was on the eighth day following the all night stakeout when Elizabeth slept in until gone eleven in the morning, finding herself completely exhausted after being unable to sleep the night before. Waking up, she groaned and sat up before looking around. She was in her own bedroom and she was alone. She had expected Laszlo to come to her, but it turned out that he hadn't bothered. He hadn't come to her for the past week and she hadn't been to him, despite him stating that he wanted to be with her. She could still remember the other night and she didn't regret their activities. Laszlo also claimed that he didn't regret them, claiming that he had found them to be quite enjoyable, but she could still remember what she had said to him.

"I…I need you to be in control…I want you to take charge…"

He had looked shocked for a moment, but he had happily obliged her. His gaze had darkened slightly and he had indulged her. He had whispered in her ear, muttering words that she never thought could possibly come from the good doctor's mouth. But they had their desired effect on her.

"Elizabeth."

She remained sat up in bed as she heard him knock at the door and she wondered what he could possibly want. She cleared her throat.

"Yes?" she called out to him.

He opened the door and entered the room. Carefully, he closed the door behind him and she saw that he held a cup of tea in his fingertips. She pulled the quilt up to her chest and Laszlo moved further into the room, placing the cup on her bedside table.

"May I?" he asked, motioning to the bed.

"Yes," Elizabeth said and he sat down on the edge of her bed. "Did you come up here just to bring me a cup of tea or to scold me for sleeping in so late?"

"Neither," he said to her. "Well, yes, I did come up to bring you a cup of tea, but I thought that I should tell you that Miss Howard has just visited. She intends to orchestrate another stakeout this evening with Stevie actually being inside of the room of the brothel. The commissioner intends to help…tomorrow is the next holy day. It is Pentecost."

"And you think he will show?"

"I am not convinced," Laszlo responded, "but this is Miss Howard's plan and I intend to go along with it."

"And that is why you are here?"

"Amongst other reasons," Laszlo nodded his head and she reached for the cup, picking it up from the saucer and placing it to her lips. She took a sip of the warm tea with just the right amount of sugar, the warm liquid sliding down her throat before she turned her attention back to Laszlo. She nursed the cup in her fingers as he lowered his gaze to his lap. "I know that we have not discussed our activities in detail and I did no think that it was necessary for us to do, but when you questioned if your longing to be dominated is as a consequence of your husband's behaviour, it got me thinking."

"My God, Laszlo," Elizabeth said, almost spilling her tea in shock. She placed the cup down on the bedside table and he watched her place her hands back into her lap. "Warn me before getting straight to it next time."

"I apologise," Laszlo responded. "But I just wanted to ensure that what happened the other night…you do not regret it? You see, I realise that I gave into you easily because I wanted to be the one to take charge. I wanted that, but I just…I…perhaps I should have thought more about your previous experiences, of how your husband had behaved."

"No," Elizabeth said, shaking her head firmly. "You were nothing like him, Laszlo. The difference between the both of you is that I actually wanted you. I never wanted him, nor did I ever give him permission."

"I see," Laszlo said to her. "And you are certain that you are fine with what happened? Your longing for your partner to take charge, I assume, comes from the fact that you have never been the one in control. You have always longed for approval from men…your husband, father…and-"

"-Laszlo," she interrupted him. "I am certain that there are reasons behind why I am the way that I am, but…can we not discuss them? Unless I made you uncomfortable."

"You did anything but," he promised her in a soft whisper.

"Then I am glad to hear it, but I…the past week…you have been distant and I wondered if it had put you off, despite you seeming to have enjoyed it."

"My mind started playing tricks on me," he said to her. "I began to wonder if I had behaved the same way Jacob had and abused my position-"

"-Never," she promised him, not wanting him to compare himself to her husband. She reached out for him, her hands going to hold onto his arm and squeeze it softly. "I wish that you had spoken to me sooner about this. I never want you to think you are anything like him. You are nothing like him."

"Then I apologise," Laszlo told her, "for not talking with you. Not once did I want you to feel abandoned by me."

Her lips arched and he moved his hand to her cheek, stroking it gently.

"Let's just talk to each other, yes?" she said to him. "We should not keep things from each other."

"You know that I am not exactly familiar with how to be in a relationship. My experience with women is non-existent. You are the first…being with someone…I do not know how it is supposed to be."

She took his hand from her cheek and kissed the back of it softly. "Nor do I," she said to him in a soft voice. "I would not say that my marriage to Jacob is what I imagine a relationship to be, but we can work these things out together, can't we? We just need to talk."

Laszlo nodded. "I can agree with that," he said to her. "And if that is how we are to conduct ourselves then perhaps I can ask something from you."

"And what would that be?"

"May I kiss you?"

Her smile continued to widen. "Of course," she said and he moved towards her, using the back of his hand to brush her hair from her cheek before his lips landed on top of hers. He kissed her softly before he felt her hands grip onto his neck, her arms pressing against his front and he moved closer to her, grabbing hold of her waist, his fingers running along her back. He deepened the kiss, his teeth biting down on her bottom lip and causing her to moan. He pulled back after a moment and moved his lips across her cheek and down to her neck. She arched her back, feeling him bite down on her skin and she moaned loudly, her hands tangling into his hair.

"Laszlo," she groaned.

"I need you to be quiet," Laszlo said to her, moving his lips back up her neck and giving her one final peck on her lips. "Mary and Cyrus are downstairs."

"You mean…now?" she asked from him.

"Do want me to?" he questioned from her.

"Well, yes," she said and he saw the blush stretch up her neck and to her cheeks. "But do you not have to go to work?"

"I have the day free from meetings," he said to her, his fingers dropping to her shoulder and running along her bare skin, tickling her and feeling her shudder. She groaned under the movement and he tugged at the short sleeve, bending down and kissing her on her shoulder. "And if we're going to be together, then I need you to keep quiet."

"I can try."

His lips arched and he nodded. "Good…now lie down."

…

Moving down the staircase, Laszlo was well aware that he had a visitor. Cyrus had called up to him and informed him that the commissioner was there to see him. At the time, he had been quite occupied with Elizabeth, his hand covering her mouth to stop her from moaning loudly as her teeth scraped his fingers. He had given her the relief that she needed and begged for before moving from her, regaining his composure as quickly as he could.

Straightening out his shirt into his trousers, he adjusted his waistcoat while Elizabeth laid on the bed, her nightgown pooled around her waist. He had left her alone after one final kiss before rushing off. He ran his fingers through his hair and took the steps quickly, gathering his breath. He found the commissioner in the parlour and Roosevelt looked at him, brow arched.

"Not interrupting, am I?" he questioned from him.

"Not anymore," Laszlo simply said. "May I ask why you are here, commissioner?"

"To tell you that there are interested parties in your work," Roosevelt said to him. "Your actions have become conspicuous to some very important people."

"Then I am sorry if they are casting a shadow over your good name," Laszlo said to him, his hand running over his chin and scratching his beard. He moved around the foyer, pacing as he usually did when he was anxious.

"Don't worry about my good name," Roosevelt said to him. "I know who my enemies are, Laszlo. But I have been informed that Willem Van Bergen is leaving the country. Do you not believe it?"

"I told you that I do not believe he is the man you are looking for," Laszlo said, tugging his pocket watch out and checking the time. He could hear the floorboard above creak slightly and he knew that Elizabeth was moving around. He looked to Mary as she passed by the room, placing a fresh vase of flowers down onto the sideboard. "Ah, Mary, I believe that Elizabeth might require your assistance. She is awake now."

Mary nodded and looked at Laszlo with a soft smile and a knowing look in her eye. He frowned for a second. Had she heard what they had been up to? Did she know? She moved off to the staircase and Laszlo turned his attention back to Roosevelt who gripped his hat tightly in his fingertips.

"And you are planning another stakeout?"

"Pentecost is upon us and if the killer is acting based on holy days then he will not be able to stop himself and therefore we must take advantage of every opportunity that presents itself to us," Laszlo said, hearing Elizabeth's voice from upstairs, greeting Mary as the door to her room opened and then closed again.

"But what causes a man to do such things?" Roosevelt wondered and Laszlo moved to the mirror, straightening out his tie.

"There are many reasons why people act in certain ways," Laszlo said. "And certain reasons only become apparent when we ourselves learn to understand them."

"I suppose that is one of my issues," Roosevelt said, "I do not want to understand. I will leave that down to you."

"As you wish," Laszlo nodded his head.

Roosevelt sighed and lifted his head up, moving his hat to put it back in its place. "I should return to work. I simply came to visit you briefly. I am certain I shall find out how your stakeout went tomorrow, but I am not officially involved in this."

"Miss Howard informed me," Laszlo said to him and turned to look at him. "Then I shall see you another time, commissioner."

"Laszlo," he responded and moved to the door, unable to resist himself from one final parting comment. "And you might want to check your waistcoat."

Laszlo looked down at the item of clothing and saw that it was buttoned up askew. In his rush to dress, he had clearly been haphazard. He heard Roosevelt laugh as he left the house, closing the door behind him and leaving Laszlo to adjust the offending item of clothing.

…

Elizabeth had persuaded Laszlo to let her come with him again to the following stakeout. He had sat down next to her with Miss Howard across from them again. Laszlo had to admit that he was finding himself struggling to concentrate on the work in front of him. He had asked Elizabeth to read over some of his accounts that evening and he was watching as she chewed down on the end of the pen she held in her fingertips, gaze set on the paper on her lap. He would notice how her teeth clamped down on it from concentration and how her tongue would flick out and run over her bottom lip.

She was driving him to distraction. His concentration was lapsing and it was only when Sara moved out of the carriage for fresh air did he move. He dropped his own pen and reached for her chin with his hand, holding onto it firmly between his thumb and forefinger. She was about to ask what he was doing before he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her forcefully, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip and the pen she had been holding clattered onto her lap. He kept the motion forceful and short, only pulling away after he had left her almost breathless underneath him.

"Stop chewing the pen," he whispered hotly and she nodded, cheeks flushed and lips tingling.

Nodding once, he pulled back from her as Sara returned, flicking her cigarette onto the ground before she climbed into the carriage and returned to her seat. Elizabeth cleared her throat and reached for the pen she had dropped, simply holding it in her fingers as Sara looked to her, noting her red cheeks.

"Are you well, Elizabeth? You look flushed."

"Perfectly fine," Elizabeth promised her with a nod, not meeting her eye and looking down onto the papers beneath her. She took a few moments to compose herself silently after Laszlo's sudden action.

They went back to their individual work before Sara suddenly dropped a piece of paper. Laszlo looked at her and then down to the sheet, removing his glasses in the process, bending at the waist and acting gentlemanly, picking it up for her, but not before he noted what it was. It was a sheet of music with a familiar piece written down on it. Laszlo recognised the pattern of notes before he even had to look at the title. Elizabeth glanced over to it as Sara kept her stare fixed on Laszlo.

"Do you play?" he asked from her.

"When I was younger," Sara said. "Do you know the piece?"

"Yes," Laszlo said and he knew instantly what she was doing. He nodded his head once and handed her the sheet of music back, Elizabeth looking between the two of them.

"I was told that you were once something of a prodigy," Sara commented.

Laszlo inhaled a sharp breath and Elizabeth sensed that something was not quite right.

"I suppose I had my moment in the sun," Laszlo admitted to Sara.

"What happened to your arm, Doctor Kreizler?" Sara pushed him.

Elizabeth's brow furrowed.

"That is no concern of yours," he replied.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth wondered and Sara looked to her.

"Do you know that he has been lying about his arm?" Sara questioned and Elizabeth looked to Laszlo as he kept his glare on Sara. She continued to watch him, seeing the anger building up in his gaze.

"How has he lied? I have seen it."

"That piece of music is a piece that he played as a child," Sara said, pointing to the sheet she was holding. "It requires two hands to play it. Whatever happened to his arm, he was not born with. He has been lying and it seems that he has lied to you too."

"Laszlo?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Stop," Laszlo demanded, his voice harsh and tone haughty. He looked at Sara. "I will not have you talk to me that way."

Elizabeth had seen Laszlo angry before. She had witnessed his rage when he had come face to face with her husband and she knew that he had a temper. But they all did. Everyone was able to become angry.

"Stay here," Laszlo demanded from Elizabeth and he climbed from the carriage without another word.

But Sara was following him and Elizabeth was not prepared to be bossed around at that moment in time when she knew that something was quite clearly wrong. Sara followed Laszlo, Elizabeth moving behind her and almost tripping over her green skirt in the process. Her coat hung open around her frame as they moved onto the cobbled street.

"Whatever happened to you is the reason for your bias against the killer," Sara called after Laszlo as he continued storming off. "That's true, isn't it Doctor?"

"I see no reason to discuss my private life with you," Laszlo snapped as Sara rushed ahead of him and stood in front of him.

"And me?" Elizabeth questioned and he turned his head over his shoulder to see her moving towards him, cheeks still red and puffed out, dress askew on her body from almost tripping over her skirts. "Do you not wish to discuss it with me?"

"Elizabeth, this is a matter for another time," Laszlo said and she stood at the side of the two of them.

"But you have been lying to her, have you not? I imagine that you have demanded to know every intimate detail of her private life, however. You know everything about her…you demand for everyone to be honest, but you cannot do that yourself, can you? Why not? Why can you not simply be honest?"

He scoffed at her. She had no idea what she was doing.

"You do not have the courage to see yourself for who you really are," Sara continued to push him.

"Sara," Elizabeth said, not wanting this to escalate. "There has to be a simple explanation for this."

"Yes, there is," Sara agreed. "But you are too blindly in love with him to see him for the man he really he is, a man who is scared to tell the truth," she looked back to Laszlo. "You are nothing but a coward."

And then he acted. He did something that he should never have done. His hand moved quickly and struck Sara across the face. The noise of his palm hitting her cheek echoed and Sara gasped. Elizabeth startled at the sight and in that moment, Laszlo felt something inside of him crumble. He looked to Sara as she moved a hand to her cheek and Elizabeth stepped back, her knees turning shaky. His eyes flickered over to her and she simply looked at him with an expression he never wanted to see on her face again. She looked at him like he had disappointed her. And he had. He had disappointed himself. He knew it had been wrong. What had he told her? That men who harmed others were not really men.

And he had just hurt Sara.

"Laszlo…Laszlo, come quick!" John's voice suddenly entered their ears.

With one last look between the two women, Laszlo turned on his heel and ran after John. Sara gave chase and Elizabeth followed her, still in a daze over what had happened but needing to ensure that Stevie was fine. They entered the brothel and ran up the stairs, Elizabeth ignoring the sights on the way. They came to a room and Laszlo was already inside, looking at Stevie.

"Stevie, are you alright?" he asked from the boy who had removed his wig and Marcus was by the window, blood trickling down his forehead. "Where is he?"

"He got away," Marcus said.

"Perhaps the others saw him," John said, rushing to the window and looking out, pulling the curtains away as Laszlo stood the other side of him and Elizabeth glanced to Marcus, noticing the blood trickling down his forehead.

"You're hurt," she commented, reaching into her coat pocket for her handkerchief, Lucius moving into the room.

"What's going on?" the other Isaacson brother questioned.

"Cyrus," Laszlo said his name, realising that he was not there.

"Take this," Elizabeth said to Marcus, handing him the material and he gave her an appreciative nod, wiping the blood on his brow as they took off for the door, heading to find Cyrus. Sara was about to follow them as Laszlo grabbed Elizabeth by the hand and he swore he felt her flinch at his touch.

"Stay here," he urged from her. "Please…Miss Howard…stay with her and Stevie."

Laszlo gave Elizabeth's hand a squeeze, but her grip remained limp and she didn't even look at him as he left the room, his breathing deep. Sara shut the door to the room and Stevie remained stood where he was, taking deep breaths.

"Did he hurt you, Stevie?" Elizabeth wondered from the young boy.

"He didn't get chance to," Stevie shook his head.

"Okay…good," Elizabeth said and nodded her head, moving a hand to his arm and squeezing it gently before stepping back and looking out of the window onto the building opposite, Sara doing the same.

"Has he ever laid a hand on you before?" Sara whispered to her.

"Never," Elizabeth responded with a shake of her head. "Are you hurt?"

"No, just angry," Sara responded.

"That's not him…he's not that man," Elizabeth said, seeing the figures on the roof across from them.

"Are you really making excuses for him?" Sara questioned.

Elizabeth shot her a pointed stare. "Do you think that I would ever excuse that type of behaviour after what happened to me?" she demanded from Sara.

Sara looked at her for a moment before Elizabeth walked to the other side of the room. She moved around it, the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke entering her nostrils. Perching on the stool in the corner, she didn't know how long had passed before the door opened again, John entering the room first followed by Laszlo.

"The killer went next door," John told them. "The window was wide open. He didn't go after Stevie…our plan failed."

"And another boy is missing?" Sara checked.

"Yes," Marcus's voice entered the room as Lucius stood behind him, Cyrus in the corridor.

"We should return home," John said. "Stevie, do you think you could describe the man you saw to me in the morning so that I can draw him?"

Nodding, Stevie said nothing else.

"Then we should return home. Sara, will you permit me to escort you home?"

"Yes," Sara said and she followed John out of the room. Cyrus nodded to Stevie and the young boy went over to him and he placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly and guiding him from the brothel. Marcus and Lucius bid their goodnights, the mood sombre. Laszlo looked to Elizabeth as she stood up from the stool and he held his arm out, but she brushed by him. He reached out and grabbed hold of her by the wrist.

"Elizabeth-"

"-Don't," she interrupted him, looking down at where he held her wrist. "Not right now," she said to him.

"We need to talk."

"No, you need to apologise to Miss Howard," she responded in a hiss.

"She…I lost control…my temper…"

"You know," she drawled up to him, finally looking him in the eye and he saw the anger in her gaze. "Jacob used to say the exact same thing."

Her words stung him, but he knew she had a point. He let go of her wrist as she snatched it from his grip and followed the Isaacson's down the staircase. Looking at the back of her, Laszlo cursed himself for what he had done.

…

A/N: Would love to know what you think - love reading your comments/suggestions!