Elizabeth had been distant with Laszlo ever since the previous evening. She had stayed in her room, hearing his footsteps walk down the hallway and past her door. He sometimes paused, almost as though he wanted to knock on the door, but he never did. She closed her eyes and she could see what had happened so clearly. Laszlo had hit Sara. He had actively hit her and Elizabeth felt sick whenever she replayed it in her mind. She knew that Sara had pushed him. She knew that there was something that he wasn't telling them, but that was no excuse. Whatever she had said was no excuse for him to hit her.
And so Elizabeth avoided Laszlo as best as she could. She would go to the Institute and continue to work there, intending mainly on spending her time with Charlotte. But when she returned home, she would insist on taking supper in her room instead of in the dining room. Mary had come to help her dress that morning, and the maid had sensed that there was an atmosphere. She hadn't told Mary what she had seen, but she knew that Mary was not blind. She could see that something was wrong.
She had heard about the latest victim of the killer who had been taken. The boy had been scalped and his heart had also been taken. She had listened in on Laszlo's conversation earlier and almost felt her stomach churn at the image of such a mutilated corpse. Whoever the killer was, they feared that he was becoming bolder. The body had been found in broad daylight at the Statue of Liberty and the press were beginning to swarm Laszlo after gathering wind that he was an alienist working on the case.
"You have been distant, Elizabeth."
Looking over to where the voice had come from, Elizabeth saw Sara moving towards her. She had sat down on the swings in the yard and was rocking back and forth, digging her heels into the dirt every so often to stop her from getting too high. Sara came to sit down on the swing next to her and Elizabeth shrugged.
"I never should have gotten so involved in the case anyway," she said to Sara. "How are things going with it?"
Sara shrugged her shoulders. "Honestly, I do not know," she told her earnestly. "Laszlo and John are currently at the National History Museum. They believe they might be able to find something considering that the boy had been scalped."
Elizabeth blanched at hearing that. "And so you are here, I assume, with the Isaacson's? I saw them heading into the building earlier."
"Yes, I just had to pop into work for a brief few moments," Sara responded with a nod of her head. "We are looking at correspondence from mental hospitals that the Doctor wanted us to look at to see if there are any clues of patients who have a connection to the West. I have left them to it for a few moments because I saw you out here."
"Do you need any help?" Elizabeth questioned.
Sara arched a brow at her and watched as she fiddled with the skirts of the blue dress she wore. "Are you only asking because the Doctor is currently not here?"
"How can you be so calm?" Elizabeth wondered from her, not answering her question. Looking at Sara, she was doing her best to comprehend what was going through the young woman's mind, but she had to confess that she was at a loss. Elizabeth felt as though she was more outraged. "How can you still work with him after last night?"
Sara nodded. "I do not pretend not to be angry, but catching this killer is far more important to me than waiting for an apology or an explanation from Doctor Kreizler," she said to Elizabeth. "And I understand that you are also upset and angry with him, but if you want to help read the letters then you know that we can always use an extra pair of eyes."
Elizabeth sighed, but she nodded her head. She would help them. Besides, the children were back in class and she needed to do something to pass the time. Moving to stand up, Elizabeth flattened her skirts out while Sara did the same, the two women moving back into the building.
"Has he said anything to you?" Sara wondered.
"I have been avoiding him," Elizabeth admitted. "Until he apologises to you, I have no intention or longing to converse with him."
"I appreciate that," Sara said, "but I meant about his arm. Has he explained why he got so angry and upset? Or why he has lied?"
"Not a word," Elizabeth responded to her and they took the steps up towards the boardroom, moving into it and seeing letters scattered everywhere.
Before they could even sit down, Lucius was on his feet, Marcus remaining seated. Lucius held a piece of paper in his hand and looked to Sara, his face pale and his features almost stoic. There was a tense atmosphere in the room that Elizabeth had picked up on instantly. There was something not quite right and whatever it was, Lucius was the one who knew.
"I found something," he said to Sara. "This letter gives a detailed description from an inmate who witnessed the battle of Little Bighorn."
Sara nodded and Marcus moved to his feet, pulling out a chair for Elizabeth. She looked to the young man who offered her a smile before pushing her chair under. She reached for a letter, but wondered if there was any point if Lucius had discovered something. Marcus sat back down next to Elizabeth and leant back, drumming his fingers on the table.
"Read it aloud," Sara implored Lucius, resuming her spot at the head of the table.
"It's not our man," Lucius said, shaking his head, but the look on his face said that he wasn't overly convinced about that. Sara arched her brow as Lucius continued to talk. "Besides, he's still locked up."
"Please don't look at me like that," Sara urged from him. "Like you want to spare my feelings. Whatever is in that letter, I can handle it."
Lucius let his gaze flicker to Elizabeth and she sat back in her chair again, dropping the letter she had been toying with. She shrugged and folded her arms across her waist. "Likewise," she said. She thought that she could handle it. She had worked on Laszlo's cases before. Well, she had listened to his musings. But this felt darker than all of them.
Marcus looked at his brother, not entirely sure if he should do this, but he was already sitting down at the other end of the table. Elizabeth remained silent as Lucius spoke, telling them what was in the letter. The letter was detailed, discussing how bodies had been slain and how body parts had been hacked off, including genitals. Elizabeth took a moment to gather herself, looking down to her lap as Marcus winced at the thought of castration. He didn't even want to think about that. He looked over to Elizabeth as he saw her toying with her hands in her lap.
"I should go."
Elizabeth suddenly stood up after Lucius had read the letter. She blinked for a moment and when she closed her eyes, she could see him. She could see him clear as day and threatening her, telling her what he would do to Laszlo if he found him.
"Do you think that I wouldn't hurt him if he came near you? Make it so that he was never able to fulfil not only your needs, but the needs of any woman? I would rip him limb from limb."
"Elizabeth, are you well?" Marcus was the one to ask.
She nodded her head, forcing herself to smile over to him. But he could see behind it. He could see that there was something not quite right.
"Fine," Elizabeth said, "I promised that I would go and visit Cyrus and take him some food that Mary prepared…and I think that visiting hours are restricted."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said, nodding her head reverently. "I will be back later and I can help."
She fled from the room without another word, rushing down the staircase and grabbing her coat on the way. Pulling her arms into it, she stepped outside and gathered herself, leaning against the wall and bending at the waist, heaving for breath.
…
Laszlo intended to visit Cyrus in the hospital. He had been knocked out cold the previous night after keeping watch of Stevie and was currently being treated for a head injury. But he was expected to make a full recovery for which Laszlo was grateful for. He didn't know if he could live with himself if anything serious had happened to him. He had taken food for him, collecting some from the house before he visited. As he wandered down the corridors towards his room, he peered in and saw a familiar figure sat at his bedside. Laszlo froze for a moment as Elizabeth remained seated and Cyrus's niece spoke to her, the man in the bed sleeping soundly.
"Miss Joanna," Laszlo spoke, realising that he had to make himself known. His eyes flickered over to the young woman before landing on Elizabeth. "Elizabeth."
She looked at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Cyrus in the bed. Laszlo almost groaned loudly, but he kept his voice down, Joanna walking towards him. He looked to the young woman, a small smile on his face.
"I'm glad you were able to get here so quickly," he said to her.
"And Miss Joanna would make you Mr Laszlo," she responded.
He continued to smirk at her quick wit. "Miss Crawford," he responded. "How is he?"
"He was asking if you'd been to visit," Joanna said and Laszlo nodded, peering down at the bag that he had carried in with him.
"I brought him some food," he said to her. "I understand that the food in hospitals can be less than favourable."
Elizabeth listened on as the two of them spoke about Joanna's employment, but she remained silent. Joanna told Laszlo how she intended to repay him for the money that he had given for her education. Elizabeth knew that he had paid for her to get the best education possible. Laszlo was that kind of man. He was the kind of man who put other people first. He wouldn't think twice about paying for Joanna's education.
She continued to listen in as Laszlo explained that no repayment would be necessary, stating that Cyrus had served him well over the years. But then Joanna questioned if that service included getting himself killed. Elizabeth winced at hearing her, knowing that she was upset. She was worried for her uncle and Elizabeth could completely understand the position that she was in. Cyrus had been fortunate not to have suffered worse injuries. Laszlo noted that she had taken offence and Elizabeth dared to look over to him, seeing how his face had fallen slightly. She bit down on her bottom lip and peered to her lap as Joanna told Cyrus that he had the ability to release him from his service a long time ago. But Laszlo hadn't. He needed Cyrus. He needed his friendship and Joanna pointed out how he spent most of his time in the stables.
"My uncle may see your acts of kindness as a mark of your decency, but I see keeping him downtrodden through courtesy and progressive ideas as simply more effective than using shackles and a whip."
Elizabeth knew that those words had stung him. She was well aware of that. She watched on as Joanna thanked him for coming before she left the room, sweeping by him. Elizabeth looked to Laszlo as he kept his gaze focused on the ground. She knew that he would be hurt. She knew that he would have felt pain at the words that she had just spoken. But he would be questioning if they were true. He would question if she had a point. She knew that his mind never stopped working.
"She was upset," Elizabeth said, unable to stand the silence.
Laszlo chuckled darkly, his gaze picking up and looking over to Elizabeth for a brief moment. "It seems that everyone is upset with me."
Elizabeth didn't respond to that comment. Truthfully, she didn't entirely know how to respond to it. She stood up from the chair and flattened her hands into her skirts before looking to Laszlo once more, noticing how his eyes flickered from Cyrus and over to her.
"The doctor says that he should be free to leave this afternoon," Elizabeth said to Laszlo.
"Then I shall return and collect him then," Laszlo said to her.
"Fine," she nodded back.
The silence was back alongside the atmosphere.
"Can we talk…before we come back and bring Cyrus home?"
"I don't know if that-"
"-Please," Laszlo interrupted her before she could make excuses up as to why they shouldn't talk. She chewed down on her bottom lip and nodded her head, agreeing with him. She suspected they would have to talk sooner or later and so she may as well get it out of the way. They left Cyrus alone, telling Joanna that they would come back for him later on.
The ride back to the house was silent and tense, Elizabeth nervously drumming her fingers against her thigh as she waited for them to arrive back home. She followed Laszlo inside, allowing him to hold the door open for her. She entered and shrugged her coat from her shoulders, hanging it up on the stand before Laszlo did the same. He moved into the parlour room without a word, sitting down at the piano and lifting his hand up, his fingers running over the keys and Elizabeth walked steadily into the room, looking over to Laszlo.
He was the one who wanted to talk, but he was keeping silent. She remained stood in the doorway, a finger nervously tangling into her long blonde hair that hung over her shoulders. He let his finger linger over the final key before he spoke.
"What Miss Howard said was right," Laszlo informed her, keeping his gaze focused on the piano, lifting his bad hand with his good hand, trying to get it to touch the keys. He let it stay there before he spoke again. "My arm was not always like this."
Elizabeth kept silent, folding her arms over her chest and moving forwards, walking until she was stood by the side of the piano. Laszlo cleared his throat for a moment and his eyes closed, almost as though he found it too painful to look at her.
"Your husband was the one who beat you…it was my father who beat me," he finally spoke and Elizabeth felt her breath hitch in her throat, her eyes widen and her mouth dry out. She curled her hands into her skirts, gripping them tightly and letting him continue telling her his story. "My father was an alcoholic and he…there were times when he let his temper get the better of him. Men are often angrier whenever they have alcohol inside of them. I was eight when he fought with me and my arm…it became trapped…in his grip...we were playing tug of war as he put me to bed. He pulled my arm behind my back and it might have healed, but it was never given a chance. My father pushed me down the stairs and that ensured that it stayed broken. Small fractures cannot heal all of the time in children who are growing."
Laszlo moved his hand up to the piano once more and pressed down on a key. Elizabeth sighed and moved tentatively. She perched on the other end of the piano bench, settling down and turning her head to the side so that she could look to him.
"Why did you not tell me?" she wondered from him, her voice soft and just above a whisper.
"I have not told anyone," Laszlo responded and turned his gaze back to her, his eyes meeting hers. "I do not particularly want people to know of my private life. It is not something that I enjoy discussing."
"I know that," Elizabeth assured him, "but I did not think that I was other people."
"You're not," Laszlo promised her. "You are not like other people, Elizabeth. You know that."
"Then why…what happened…when I asked you about your arm, you told me that it was congenital," Elizabeth reminded him and he shrugged his shoulders in her direction.
He cleared his throat once more and Elizabeth looked at him with those sad eyes. He looked away and moved to his feet, dropping his hands down his side and wandering around the room. Elizabeth spun on the seat so that she could look over to him.
"Don't look at me like that," he said to her and her brows furrowed.
"Like what?"
"With pity," Laszlo said to her. "I don't want you to pity me, Elizabeth."
She looked shocked and shrugged. "How else am I supposed to look at you?" she questioned from him.
"As you usually would," he responded, his voice firm and demanding. "I don't want your pity. I don't want you to look at me any differently. I told you because I suspected that you deserved to know the truth. That is what people do who care for each other, is it not? They tell each other the truth."
"Well, yes," Elizabeth said, struggling to gather her thoughts for a moment.
"Good," Laszlo said firmly. "Because now you know the truth and I suspect that is all there is to it."
"You don't wish to discuss it any further?"
"Like you do not wish to discuss what Jacob did to you?" Laszlo responded and he saw her wince. He shook his head, knowing that his tongue could be sharp and get him into trouble when he was already in hot water. But he was unable to stop himself. It was a flaw and he knew that it was a flaw. "What happened is in the past, Elizabeth. I do not want to think on it or for anyone else to know."
"Fine," she said, not wanting him to get angrier or even more upset. She had to admit that she was struggling with what to say to him or what to think. She never imagined that he had gone through something similar to her. She never imagined that they had both been through so much trauma. But he had been a child. He had been a child who had suffered abuse and she couldn't even imagine why anyone would want to hurt a child. What went through some people's minds? She could not say.
"Miss Howard should never have brought it up," Laszlo whispered.
"Perhaps not," Elizabeth agreed with him. She knew how Sara had pushed the matter and she knew that Laszlo would not appreciate that. "But that does not mean that you should have reacted as you did," she told him. "Just because we are pushed to violence does not mean we should act and you…she might act brave, Laszlo, but I think you scared her."
He remained silent and Elizabeth moved to her feet. She folded her arms over her chest.
"You need to apologise to her," Elizabeth encouraged him.
"She should not-"
"-We have established that," Elizabeth interrupted, not wanting to go round and round in circles with him. She moved towards him and her hands shook in her skirts. She grabbed hold of them, clasping her hands together and settling them in the material. "But that does not take away from the fact that you should still apologise for striking her."
"Are you telling me what to do?"
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "What?" she questioned.
"Are you demanding for me to apologise to her?"
Elizabeth shook her head, wondering just what was going on between the two of them. What was going on in Laszlo's mind? What was he thinking of and why was he acting the way that he was? She had no answer for any of it.
"I would have thought that you would want to," Elizabeth settled on saying to him. "I would have thought that you would see that what you did was wrong…wasn't you…and that you would want to make amends."
"And you think you know what it is I think?" Laszlo questioned from her.
"What are you doing?" Elizabeth demanded from him, her voice on edge once more. Looking at him with a glare, she dropped her hands to her hips expectantly. "What is this?"
"This is me wondering if that what Joanna said is right," Laszlo snapped. "It is me wondering if I have abused my position far too much…that I have put people in danger all for my own sake…Cyrus…Stevie…they risked so much for me and they did it without even questioning me."
"I imagine they did it because they wanted to help," Elizabeth retorted. "And if you feel that then why not ask them. Why not ask them if you worry you have abused your position?"
"I intend to," Laszlo responded, "and if I have abused my position…then what does that make us, Elizabeth? Perhaps I was right all along. Perhaps I did push you…perhaps you do see me as simply a saviour who took you in and that has caused you to have these feelings for me because I am not a man who deserves your love, am I?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Elizabeth said firmly to him. "I have no idea what you are doing or trying to do, but do not presume to tell me how I feel, Laszlo. I know how I feel."
"Even though I proved myself similar to your husband?" he questioned and looked over her, drinking in her features and noticing how she was struggling to keep a composed, stoic face. He stepped towards her and she watched as he peered down onto her. "I struck Sara, Elizabeth. I hit a woman just as my father hit me and your husband hit you," he said to her. "How does that make me any different to them?"
"Because I'd like to think that you regret what you did," she snapped back at him. "Don't you?"
He nodded his head.
"Then that makes you different," Elizabeth said to him. "You know that Jacob used to tell me he was sorry, but he never truly was. He was never sincere. That is how you are different, Laszlo. You are different because you have sincerity on your side."
Laszlo listened to her and he knew that she was right. Everything she was saying was right. He did regret what he had done and he did want Sara to forgive him. He was not that kind of man and he wanted her to see that. He needed to set things right, but his mind was still processing what had happened and he still felt an anger with Sara for challenging him and for saying what she had said.
"Just don't push me away," Elizabeth whispered and his face contorted as she reached a hand up to brush against his cheek, the ends of her fingers losing themselves in his hair. "Don't push me away, Laszlo, because I know that's what you were trying to do. You say these things…these comments…and it is almost as though you want to drive people away. I don't understand it."
"Nor do I," he admitted to her.
"Then…just don't," she encouraged from him. "Don't push me away."
Bending down, Laszlo let his forehead brush against hers, a shaky breath escaping his body as he kept a hold of her, his hands going to her waist as she moved hers to his shoulders, squeezing them tightly. He closed his eyes as she spoke to him, her voice soft and gentle.
"And I am sorry for what your father did to you," she said, squeezing his shoulders to try and get him to relax after she felt him tense up. "You were a child, Laszlo. You were just a child…"
"I know," Laszlo agreed with a loud sniff and Elizabeth kissed him on the cheek. "And I will talk to Sara. I will apologise."
"I know," she said to him. She had faith in him to do the right thing. "And if you tell her what you just told me then she…she will forgive you."
"Hmm," Laszlo drawled lowly, unable to say anything else on the matter.
"You should go and bring Cyrus home," Elizabeth said, placing her hand against his chest softly. "Mary has stated that she will give up her bedroom for him considering that it is easier to access."
Laszlo's brow furrowed as Elizabeth pulled back from him, moving around the room and adjusting the flowers in the vase on the side. Laszlo watched her go before shrugging his shoulders.
"And where will Mary sleep?" he questioned from her.
"I have told her that she can share my bed for the time being," Elizabeth said to him. "She didn't want to stay in Cyrus's room and I told her that my bed was plenty big enough for two of us."
"That's very generous of you," Laszlo said to her.
She turned her head over her shoulder and looked over to him once more. "It is no issue," she said to him. "But you should get going. I will help Mary prepare her room for Cyrus."
Laszlo nodded. "Indeed," he agreed with her.
He turned on his heel and hovered in the doorway for a moment. He turned his head over his shoulder and looked back to her. She was knelt down on the ground, picking up some books that Laszlo had dropped there from the previous night. Looking down to her as she gathered the books into her arms, he spoke in a gentle voice.
"I am sorry," he said to her once more and she turned her head to the side, tilting her face upwards to meet his gaze. "I…that man…the man who my father was…your husband was…I don't want to be him. I'm not him."
"I know you're not," she assured him in a soft voice. "And you can make things right, but it is not me you need to apologise to."
"I know," he said. "But you…what you think…means more to me than anyone. You mean more to me than anyone."
Elizabeth felt her chest ache at hearing him say those words to her. She stood up straight again and left his books on the sideboard. "Likewise," she whispered back to him and he could sense the tension between the two of them and he wanted to act on it. He wanted to go to her and hold her. He wanted to kiss her. But he didn't. He didn't feel that he had that right at that moment in time following their argument. And so he smiled softly and turned to leave, Elizabeth staring after him and sighing, wondering just what it was that went through Laszlo's mind.
…
The events of the past day had taken their toll on Laszlo. He had helped to bring Cyrus home before leaving for the Institute, but on his way, he had found himself apprehended alongside John. They had been taken and brought before J.P. Morgan who had listened to Laszlo tell him how Willem Van Bergen had not once been considered to be the killer in his mind. He didn't know who the killer was, but of that he was certain. Patrick Connor, the former police captain, had been there alongside Thomas Byrnes, the former commissioner. The two men had been dismissed by Morgan after insisting he speak to Laszlo and John alone.
And then he had offered them his help. But Laszlo did not want his help. He did not like accepting favours. He had suspicions that Byrnes and Connor were involved somehow, the two of them knowing about police corruption. Of course, he did not air those suspicions to Morgan. He knew better than to do that. Instead, Morgan had encouraged Laszlo to go about his investigation and make haste. They needed to find the killer before they had civil unrest on their hands. That was something that they couldn't risk.
He returned to the Institute following their meeting, sighing as he entered the building and heard the running around of children. He began to move to the staircase, bidding a good afternoon to Helen as she passed him by. He began to move up the staircase, but he hardly got up two steps before he saw Elizabeth rushing down to him.
"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
She had her skirts hiked up her legs so that she didn't trip, her hair in a mess on top of her head from how she had run her fingers through it a number of times. Her cheeks were stained red and Laszlo could see that she had been crying. He remained where he was on the step, looking up to her as she finally reached him and flung her arms around his neck, failing to care that anyone was watching them.
Laszlo almost lost balance from her movements, but he regained himself, wrapping one arm around her waist.
"Elizabeth…what is wrong?" he asked from her.
"You weren't here," she said to him, pulling back and looking over his face. "You said that you were coming to work and I got here and Helen said that you had never turned up. You missed appointments…you…no one had seen you."
"I am fine," Laszlo promised her, hearing the whispers of the nurses from behind him. He moved his hand up one of her arms, taking hold of her hand from his neck and holding onto it before moving up the steps, pulling her up and along with him. "I did not know that you would worry."
She scoffed as she fell into step besides him, holding his hand tightly. "You are working on a case involving someone murdering children and dismembering them," she deadpanned with him. "How can I not worry, Laszlo?"
"I understand," he promised her, "but I am fine, Elizabeth. No harm came to me."
"Where did you go?"
"J.P. Morgan apprehended both John and I to discuss our case," Laszlo said to her as they came to the boardroom and he closed the door behind him. He noted how the sun was slowly setting, the last light hitting the window and the rays of it pooling into the room against the floor. "They wanted us to drop our investigation, seeming to think that Van Bergen was the killer. But I convinced Morgan that he was not the man they were looking for. I fear that the former commissioner and Captain Connor were trying to cover this up…frame Van Bergen for the killing."
"But why would they do that?" Elizabeth questioned from him.
"Police corruption," he said. "I am certain that there is something happening in the police force, but what it is, I do not entirely know. But I am convinced it is corruption."
"Gosh," Elizabeth mumbled.
"But you have no reason to fret," Laszlo said and he went to sit down in the armchair, Elizabeth sitting in the seat across from him and folding her legs beneath her body so that she was curled into a ball. "No harm came to either of us. We are both well."
"But what about Connor and Byrnes?" Elizabeth asked. "Will they be happy with you to keep digging?"
"I doubt it, but they will not stop us," Laszlo said to her.
She sniffed and he saw a concerned look on her face. He moved from his seat and stepped towards her, crouching down and taking her cheek into his palm. He looked over her and wondered if he would ever not feel his stomach flip whenever she looked at him like he was the centre of her universe. He doubted it.
"I know," he said to her, knowing what she was feeling and thinking. "I will do all that I can to ensure no one is hurt."
She nodded, her mouth feeling dry as she placed her hand on top of his, her fingers resting against his and he could feel his breathing falter for a moment.
"In my head…I had all of these thoughts," she admitted to him. "Thoughts that I do not want to think, but this case…how dangerous it is…how dark the crimes are…it makes me worry, Laszlo. I thought that I had lost you once before when Jacob hurt you. I thought that I had lost you then and I don't want to think it again. I don't want to think it ever again."
"Hush now," Laszlo encouraged from her and he moved so that he was stood up. He took hold of her hand and tugged her from the chair. He moved to sit down in her space, pulling her back down until she was sat over his lap. He kept an arm around her waist, his other hand resting in her lap as she took hold of his hand and her free arm wrapped around his shoulders, head resting just by his neck.
"I know it's pathetic," Elizabeth said to him, murmuring against his skin, her hot breath causing him to shudder. "I know that you have other things to deal with and don't need me being so weak…so silly…"
"Do not think those things about yourself, Elizabeth," he urged from her and she scoffed.
"Hard not to," she responded in a gentle voice.
"I believe that I would have felt the same if you had suddenly gone missing," Laszlo promised her. "I did, anyway, numerous times…after Jacob put you in hospital, I didn't sleep well…function…my thoughts were alien to me as to why I felt how I did, but it is so very clear. It is so very clear that it was because I loved you, but I just did not know it at the time."
Elizabeth felt his fingers curl around hers tighter and she lifted her head up. He looked to her at the sudden loss of weight against him. He was still and silent as she moved towards him and kissed him, her lips moving over his slowly. He closed his eyes at the feeling, savouring the tenderness of her against him. It was different to the past few kisses they had shared. They had been filled with longing and desire. They had been feverish and they had been full of lust. But this was different. This was her pouring emotion into it, almost trying to tell him how much she loved him and needed him and cared for him. They stayed there for a long time, the sun finally having set and night fallen over them.
They only pulled away when they heard the door open and Elizabeth turned her head over her shoulder as Laszlo peered around her body.
"Charlotte, what are you doing here?" Elizabeth questioned, looking at the little girl. She was dressed in a white nightgown, her hair bouncing around her shoulders and her hand holding onto the doorknob. Her face was pale and Elizabeth noted her eyes were wet. "Was it a nightmare?" she asked from her.
The girl nodded her head. Elizabeth pushed herself from Laszlo, holding onto his shoulder to steady herself. He gave her a knowing nod before she moved to the door and held her hand out towards the girl who took it in an instant, grabbing hold of her fingers.
"You know, I have nightmares too," Elizabeth said, walking with the girl by her side away from the boardroom. Laszlo sat back in his seat, hands clasping onto the arms of the chair as he watched her go. He let his fingers drum against the arm of the chair before he heard footsteps approach and he saw John moving towards him, his strides purposeful and determined.
"What did you do to her?" he demanded.
Laszlo sighed and moved to his feet. He turned his back to John and walked to the table, hands going onto the letters that sat there.
"What are you doing here, John?" Laszlo questioned from him.
"I will ask you again," John said. "What did you do to her?"
"Whom?"
"Sara," John snapped.
"I'm sure that I don't know what you're talking about," Laszlo responded. He did not want to discuss this with John. If he was going to discuss what had happened then it would be with Sara when both of them had taken time to calm themselves. "Is that why you've come? You've come to ask me about Sara?"
"I've come to tell you that it is possible our killer was once a soldier out West," John said and Laszlo tilted his head to the side.
"How did you reach this conclusion?"
"Sara," John spoke her name once more.
Laszlo's lips arched for a moment, a sigh escaping him before he turned to the covered up chalkboards and lifted a sheet from one of them. John continued talking as Laszlo tucked the sheet behind the board.
"She intends to travel to Washington to continue investigating."
"That would only draw attention to Roosevelt," Laszlo said to John. "We shall go on the trip ourselves."
"Tell me what happened between you," John said, his voice a low hiss as he moved towards Laszlo, the doctor writing the word 'soldier' down on the board with a piece of chalk.
"Sara felt entitled to bring up some personal things that I would rather not discuss with you."
John grabbed hold of the other side of the table, leaning forwards while Laszlo went back to a book, flipping the page in an absent mended fashion so as to avoid John's gaze.
"Need I remind you that I introduced you two?" John asked.
"Yes, our handsome but indolent mutual friend," Laszlo said at the same time that Elizabeth returned to the boardroom, hearing the raised voices. She stood in the doorway and looked in, not wanting to get involved in a fight with the two men, but she could see that Laszlo was perturbed by something.
"Is that what you think of me?" John questioned him.
"No. It's what Sara thinks of you," Laszlo said. "I'm sorry to say it, John, but that's all she will ever think of you. She is far too kind to say it so it is best that you hear it from me."
"Laszlo!" Elizabeth finally snapped, moving into the room and looking over at him, wondering just what was going on in his mind. He looked over to her and she shook her head firmly. "Don't be so cruel."
"I am being honest," Laszlo responded with a shake of his head. "I am simply being honest and telling the truth."
"No, you are being cruel," Elizabeth retorted.
"It is best that he knows how Miss Howard will never-"
"-Stop!" Elizabeth interrupted him, her voice firm and John looked across to her for a moment, seeing how she had a stern look on her face and her cheeks were puffed out. Laszlo huffed and John could sense that there was something he wasn't being told. "Stop pushing people away."
"She's right," John warned him. "If you're not careful then you're going to end up a bitter and lonely old man."
"Is that what you think I am doing?" Laszlo questioned from John. He looked over him, his gaze earnest as Elizabeth chewed on the inside of her cheek. Shaking his head, Laszlo stopped flipping the pages of the book and looked to John once more. "I am trying to protect you."
John scoffed. "How so?" John demanded to know.
"Because I do not want you to go through the same emotions that I went through when I thought that I cared for someone who did not want me the same way," Laszlo said to him and Elizabeth swore that she felt her heart ache at hearing him. Had he thought that when she had told him to leave her alone at the hospital? Had he truly thought that? It seemed so and she had to confess that she was struggling not to tell him how she had wanted the complete opposite.
Elizabeth let out the breath that she had been holding in. John's eyes even softened at hearing Laszlo. His shoulders drooped and Laszlo continued to talk.
"Perhaps I am not the most tactful when it comes to matters involving feelings."
"You don't say," John said, voice laden with sarcasm. "But you say there are personal matters you do not wish to discuss? Well, these are personal matters that I would prefer not to discuss."
"Understood," Laszlo said to him.
"Thank you," John said. "And I suppose I should thank you…for even wanting to look out for me."
Laszlo nodded. "You're a good man. Of course, I intend to look out for you."
"Well, yes," John said, nodding his head and shifting from one foot to the other before he coughed. He placed his hands into his pockets and looked to the clock on the sideboard. "I should go before it gets too late."
"Indeed," Laszlo agreed with him. "I will see you tomorrow."
"Until tomorrow," John said to him and then looked to Elizabeth. "Goodnight, Elizabeth."
"Goodnight, John," she responded and he left the two of them alone in the room.
Laszlo exhaled a sharp breath before pulling the sheet over the chalkboard once more. Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side, watching the back of him.
"John has feelings for Sara?" she asked from Laszlo.
"I believe so," Laszlo responded.
"And you do not think that she cares for him?"
"I think that she cares for him, but I do not think that she cares for him as he cares for her or that she would consider becoming romantically involved with him…I believe that they want different things. John wishes to settle down, but that is not what Sara longs for."
"I don't know," Elizabeth responded. "I think if you love someone then you do everything that you can to make it work."
"I disagree," Laszlo responded. "Sometimes what people long for means that it is not possible. We often place our own longings above those of others."
"But being in a relationship means making compromises," Elizabeth said to him. "Or so that is what I believe being in a relationship means…then again, most women seem content living under their husband's thumb. I saw that when I was married, but I do not think that is what it should be like."
"Your marriage was not exactly one that could be considered healthy, Elizabeth."
"I know," she replied. "But, the point still stands. I just…I just think that you need to leave John to figure things out on his own, no matter how good your intentions are. Would you like it if he suddenly started commenting on our relationship?"
"I suppose not," Laszlo replied, "but that does not mean that I am not right."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Can you not simply put aside your longing to be right all of the time?"
Laszlo's lips arched and he moved towards her, standing in front of her and feeling her hands go to his upper arms, running up and down them soothingly. Laszlo continued to smile down to her before he bent down, kissing her chastely for a moment. He pulled back and his hands remained firm on her waist. His beard tickled against her skin as he moved to kiss her once again.
"I know that many things have happened in the past twenty-four hours," Laszlo said to her. "And I know that I still have to speak with Miss Howard and I have no right to ask you this after our argument and what I did…but…I would very much like it if you would share my bed this evening…not intimately…just…stay with me for the night."
Elizabeth nodded her head. She could agree to that. Laszlo continued to smile sadly, the events of the past day running through his mind. He needed sleep. He needed to rest. He kissed her once more and then held his arm out to her. She took hold of it and the two of them prepared to return home, still reeling over everything that had gone on and apprehensive about just what was to come.
…
A/N: Would love to know what you think!