Elizabeth had been more than willing to leave Lucy in the care of Cyrus later that morning before she joined Laszlo on the journey to the prison. Her husband was still not particularly happy with her wanting to come with him, but he had relented. She stood in the parlour as Cyrus sat on the edge of the couch, looking down into the crib next to him where Lucy slept.
"She's been fed and there is milk in the kitchen for her if she wakes up hungry," Elizabeth informed Cyrus, moving around the parlour and readying herself for going. Laszlo had already shrugged into his coat, his hat on top of his head. He was bouncing his cane against the ground, watching his wife as she moved around, reaching for her hat and securing it on top of her head. "She's been changed recently too. Charlotte is at school and she has insisted on walking home with Jennifer. She's…well…ever since she turned eleven, she's become more insistent on her own independence."
"That happens when they grow up, Mrs Kreizler. You'll see that often enough," Cyrus promised her.
"Please, I might be married but you can still call me Elizabeth," she responded to Cyrus and he chuckled, nodding his head in response to her. "And if you have any issues then-"
"-We'll be fine," Cyrus interrupted Elizabeth before she could continue her fretting. He didn't want her to worry about anything. "I'm looking forward to spending time with the latest addition to the family."
"Thank you, Cyrus," Laszlo said to his old friend.
"Yes, thank you," Elizabeth echoed with him and she bent down to kiss him on the cheek while she shrugged into her coat. She let the material engulf her and she straightened herself up once more. Peering into the coat where Lucy lay, she bent down and kissed her daughter on the forehead before moving towards Laszlo.
Laszlo and Elizabeth bid goodbye to Cyrus and left the house. Sitting in the carriage on the journey to Sing Sing Prison, Elizabeth saw how Laszlo was looking out the window, his arm bent along the ledge and his hand balled into a fist underneath his chin. She lowered her gaze to her lap and thought about what she should say to him, but she was struggling with words.
So, just like the night before, she did the only thing she could think of. She reached across and took his hand into hers, holding onto it and squeezing his fingers inside of her own. Laszlo knew that she was trying to offer him some comfort, but it wasn't him who needed the comfort. It was Martha Napp. She was the innocent party in all of this and she was about to be put to death. Laszlo lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it before she moved from the bench she was sat on to sit down next to him.
He let her hand rest in both of his in his lap, her arm brushing against his and her head resting on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and she bit down on her tongue as the carriage continued moving, bumping up and down on the uneven surface as they left the hustle and bustle of the city behind them. The prison was located away from the built up streets and Elizabeth felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She felt particularly on edge all of a sudden.
Pulling up to the prison, Elizabeth looked up to the brick building in front of her, unable to comprehend the horrors inside of it. She knew that there would be people who committed crimes that were so heinous in that building. But she also thought of Martha. She thought of that innocent woman and wondered what was going through her mind.
The protest had already begun, a group of women chanting loudly and demanding justice for Martha Napp. Laszlo climbed from the carriage first, holding his hand out to his wife. She took hold of it and he helped her down, letting her hold her skirts up to stop her from tripping.
"I need to go," Laszlo said to his wife. "Promise me that you will be careful."
"I promise," she said to him and he nodded firmly as Stevie drove the carriage away, unable to stay there due to the volume of people. "You go. I'll be fine."
Laszlo's nod was tight, but he knew that he did have to go. He bent down and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek before leaving her alone. She stayed towards the back of the protest, listening to the yells and chants continue. A woman took to stand on a crate, peering down at the women beneath her and addressing them, asking what kind of justice could be done by killing an accused killer when no body had been found to guarantee her guilt.
Elizabeth felt slightly like a fish out of water, knowing no one in the crowd and uncertain of herself. But Sara soon turned up, spotting her at the back of the crowd. The banners continued to float in the air, many of them demanding justice for Martha and other women too. Sara moved over to Elizabeth and tapped her on the shoulder, the other woman whirling around and looking over her.
"Sara," she said her name.
"I'm amazed that you're here," Sara said. "I would have thought Laszlo might have had some choice words."
"He did, but we settled on a compromise."
"Laszlo, compromising?" John's voice appeared behind Sara. "Will wonders never cease?"
"Be thankful he has not heard you taunt him so," Elizabeth retorted and she nudged John in the shoulder gently before he shrugged. Elizabeth turned her head over the shoulder and looked to the front. "You should go in," Elizabeth said to both of them. "Has there been any news on a reprieve?"
"None that we have heard of," John shook his head. "Has Laszlo already gone inside?"
Elizabeth nodded. "He was permitted to see Martha before…well…" Elizabeth trailed off. They all knew what was coming. It didn't need to be spoken.
"Will you be alright out here?" John wondered and Elizabeth was touched at his concern. She nodded her head.
"I'll be fine," she assured him.
"Milly! Bitsy!" Sara suddenly called out loud and a moment later two women came walking over, carrying banners in their hands. Sara addressed them with a stern tone as Elizabeth recognised them as two of the women who worked for Sara. One was blonde, her hair curled into a bun at the back of her neck. She wore a grey dress over a white shirt while the other had dark hair, a skirt tucked into a red blouse. "This is Mrs Kreizler. She is Doctor Kreizler's wife," Sara said. "Please can you stay with her?"
"Of course, Miss Howard," Bitsy responded, her hands going to smooth out her skirt.
"You don't need to-"
"-I insist," Sara interrupted.
"Besides, we made too many banners so we could do with an extra pair of hands," Milly said and she offered Elizabeth a smile. Elizabeth returned it and Sara gave Elizabeth's arm a squeeze, meeting her gaze. It was almost as though she was silently telling her that this would also make her feel better.
Sara and John bid their goodbyes and fought their way through the crowd towards the front as Byrnes disappeared inside and Elizabeth wondered what the former Police Commissioner was doing there. Her brow furrowed as she helped Bitsy and Milly unroll the banners and set up. The press were to the other side of the protest, trying to gain a reaction and shouting questions at people who passed by to the entrance. Elizabeth frowned at the sight of them, wondering if any of them actually believed Martha and her innocence.
The protest continued to grow louder and Elizabeth looked down to the watch on her wrist. Had the reprieve come in? Was it simply running late? Elizabeth didn't know and as time continued to tick, she began to fear that it hadn't worked. She stayed with Bitsy and Milly as police dogs arrived, barking loudly. But that did nothing to deter the women. They were fearless, refusing to back down or cower under police presence.
Instead, they continued to roar loudly and Elizabeth joined them. She was rather timid to begin with, but soon joined in with their chants. It was only as the clock struck the hour and no news came from the prison did Elizabeth suspect they had been too late.
"We should maybe think about standing back," Bitsy called over the noise and Elizabeth wondered what was going on before she heard a sudden yell of pain. Standing on her toes, she almost lost balance as a woman in front of her was pushed back. Milly helped steady her as she grabbed hold of her arm and Elizabeth saw an officer attack a young woman at the front of the protest, hitting her firmly across the head with a baton.
"What is he doing?" Elizabeth demanded, her voice full of anger.
"They don't need a reason to attack," Bitsy declared and Elizabeth bit down on the inside of her cheek, seeing another officer on a horse lash out, hitting at a woman with his own baton.
"They're hurt," Elizabeth said, feeling that she was stating the obvious. Bitsy tried to call after her as the young woman moved further into the protest towards a woman on the floor who was clutching onto her forehead, blood trickling down it. She looked woozy, her eyes darting around and her hands shaking as she tried to sit up and support her weight.
Kneeling down by her side, Elizabeth reached for the handkerchief in her coat pocket, tugging it out and pressing it to the woman's forehead, trying to keep her from the other women standing on her as they fled the violence.
"Keep pressure on the wound," Elizabeth encouraged from the woman, crouching over her. She continued to look around and Elizabeth moved a hand to her shoulder. "Look at me…please…" she said and the woman's eyes focused on her. "Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?"
"Dizzy," the woman confirmed.
"Alright," Elizabeth said. She wasn't a nurse. She had no medical training. But she had fixed herself up a number of times after Jacob had hurt her. She had learnt how to do the basics. She had also looked after Laszlo after her husband had turned on him, tending to his cuts and bruises. "Well, I'm going to need you to take a few deep breaths. Can you do that?"
She nodded her head and Elizabeth coaxed her, taking deep breaths alongside her. "That's great," she said. "I'm Elizabeth."
"Eloise," she responded.
"Nice to meet you, Eloise, despite the circumstances," Elizabeth said and she noted the woman's hand slip from where she held the handkerchief to her forehead. Elizabeth reached out and took hold of it, adjusting it and placing her hand on top of it. She managed a small smile towards her before she spotted another woman fall to the ground next to them. Bitsy rushed forwards this time, kneeling by her side and making sure she was fine as Elizabeth continued with Eloise, wondering just what was going on inside the prison.
…
Laszlo had spoken with Martha before her execution, unable to offer her any comfort except for assuring her that he would do all that he could to find whoever had taken her baby. His gaze had met with Markoe's in the execution chamber and he wondered just how the man could sit there so smug and sure of himself. Did he not feel guilt for what had happened? Did he have no remorse over condemning a woman to her death?
The smell lingered in Laszlo's nostrils from the execution. He could smell burning flesh. He reached into his pocket, feeling at the blanket Martha had given him that smelled of her baby. He had taken it from her, promising her that he would reunite her child with it. Sara had tried her best to stop the execution, but Laszlo knew that it would be impossible. It was to go ahead and nothing would stop it.
Leaving the prison, even the smell of fresh air could not stop the smell from flaring in his nostrils, nor did the noise of Martha's grunts as she was put to death leave his ears. He looked around for any sign of his wife. The protest had descended into chaos, from what he could see. There were some women being arrested and he instantly began to worry as his eyes scanned the scene in front of him, looking for his wife.
Journalists were still hollering loudly, being restrained by the police. He could hear them address him, asking him how he could defend such a monster. But Laszlo didn't respond. He simply wanted to get as far away from the protest as possible. He had promised to give John a ride back to the City, the writer and illustrator was loitering a few paces behind and Laszlo turned his head over his shoulder to look to him.
"See if you can find Stevie and have him bring the carriage," Laszlo encouraged from John who nodded, taking off in the other direction.
Laszlo moved through the throngs of women, doing his best not to add to the pushing and shoving. He soon came to the other side of the chaos and he saw her. She was on the outskirts, knelt on the ground and dirtying her skirts. She was bent over another young woman, urging for her to keep pressure on a wound. She helped the woman to her feet as Laszlo approached and he heard her tell the woman to return home with a friend to keep an eye on her. She began to try and hand Elizabeth her handkerchief back, but his wife insisted she keep it, giving her a soft smile.
"Elizabeth," Laszlo spoke her name as he finally reached her.
She turned her head to the side and looked over to him, her own eyes widening as he held his hand out, arm outstretched in front of him. She reached for him, moving through the crowd to get closer. He quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, holding onto her firmly and keeping her by his side.
"Bitsy and Milly are back there, but I lost them in the crowd," she said to him.
"Sara has gone to find them, do not worry," Laszlo assured his wife. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine," Elizabeth promised him, speaking loudly above the noise of the chaos. "What happened in there?"
Laszlo simply shook his head. "There was no reprieve," he offered her and felt her own arm around him tighten. He nodded his head once and she almost lost her footing, Laszlo managing to keep her upright against him. They soon got away from the protests and Laszlo saw carriages begin to pull up. He noticed Stevie in the distance and raised his hand, indicating that he had seen him.
"He had the audacity to show his face?" Elizabeth questioned, her tone becoming dark and full of anger.
Laszlo was about to ask who before he saw the man approaching the carriage behind his. Doctor Markoe. Before Laszlo had a chance to stop his wife, she was rushing forwards, escaping his grip. Laszlo had intended to confront Doctor Markoe, but he didn't know if today would be the best setting. However, his wife certainly had other ideas.
"How can you live with yourself?" Elizabeth demanded from him. She stood in front of the door to the carriage, blocking him from climbing in. "We know what you do at your Hospital. We know what you intended to do to me."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Markoe said, his nose wrinkling and Laszlo came to stand by his wife. Markoe turned his attention onto the alienist. "You should try and control your wife, Kreizler."
"My wife has her own mind," Laszlo retorted, his own voice haughty. "And on this matter I wholeheartedly agree with her."
"Your wife has an overactive imagination," Markoe retorted.
"I remember you were there…when I was drugged…and you told my parents how you would be able to get rid of our baby for them…how you had experience," Elizabeth hissed. "You were going to take our daughter from us."
Markoe's face didn't once flinch at her accusation. Instead, he shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do," Elizabeth snarled back at him. "And if you were capable of doing that then who is to say that you don't know what happened to Martha's baby? You helped kill an innocent woman."
"Innocent is a strong word to use," Markoe said.
"But not an incorrect one," Laszlo added on. He shook his head. "This isn't over, Markoe. Martha Napp will have justice."
"You know what they call you, don't you?" Markoe queried. His gaze remained on Laszlo, almost a tint of taunting behind him. "Crazy Kreizler…because all of your theories are so absurd that no one takes you seriously. What makes you think that they would start listening to you now? You and your wife, who quite clearly couldn't keep her legs closed until marriage."
Laszlo was not a man prone to violence. He prided himself on being better than that and he knew that his arm put him at a disadvantage. If he did do battle with someone, he preferred to use his wits. But, at that moment in time, he found that balling his good hand into a fist and flinging it forwards at Markoe was the best reaction he could have. He punched the man with no hesitation.
Markoe's head turned to the side. The force of the punch was not strong, but the fact that it had happened was the shocking factor.
"Insult me as much as you wish, but never talk about my wife," Laszlo warned him.
Markoe didn't bother to cling onto his jaw, though it did sting slightly. Instead, he brushed Elizabeth out of his way, Laszlo taking her waist once more. He climbed into his carriage and tapped on the ceiling of it with the umbrella he had been carrying.
"Did you hurt yourself?" Elizabeth asked Laszlo once Markoe was gone. She took hold of him by the arm, looking to his hand and seeing that his knuckles were red.
"It was worth it," Laszlo promised her and she reached out to place her hand to his cheek, kissing his other one briefly before keeping his hand in hers. She kept hold of it as they walked to the carriage, ready to leave.
…
Laszlo had insisted on going to the Institute and doing some work after the events of the morning while Elizabeth had returned home, wanting to get back to Lucy. Stevie had taken John back to the New York Times offices and Elizabeth had walked home. Charlotte was just back from school when Elizabeth returned, thanking Cyrus for looking after the girls. She sat and had a drink with him, asking him how the saloon was and how it felt to run his own business.
She fed Lucy and Charlotte helped her in the kitchen to cook dinner afterwards. Laszlo returned home later in the evening, the door closing firmly behind him. He placed his cane down against the wall in the hallway before removing his coat and hat, hanging them up. He could hear Elizabeth in the kitchen, but before he could go to her, he heard the familiar cries of their daughter.
Following the noise through to the parlour, Laszlo found Lucy in her crib. He bent down and picked her up.
"What's this noise, my darling?" Laszlo whispered to her. "Hmm?"
He managed to hold her in his arms, her cheek pressed to his chest and he walked back and forth in the parlour, bouncing her in his arms gently. "You're alright," he continued to murmur. "Everything is okay."
"Oh, Laszlo, I didn't hear you come back in," Elizabeth said, an apron around her and a towel in her hands that she left on the dining table before moving towards him. "But I did hear this one crying."
"I think I might have woken her up when I came in," Laszlo informed his wife as she moved to kiss him briefly, a hand on his upper arm. She pulled back and peered down to Lucy in his hold, looking at her daughter with a soft smile.
"But you've calmed down now that your father's home, haven't you?" she said to her. "I swear that you have a magic touch."
"It's a gift," Laszlo teased her and Elizabeth hit him across the arm gently. He chuckled darkly. "What were you doing?"
"Charlotte and I were just preparing dinner when I heard her begin to cry. I've left Charlotte stirring the sauce," Elizabeth said.
"Are you not exerting yourself?" Laszlo worried, continuing to bounce Lucy in his hold.
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and frowned. "What do you mean?" she wondered from him.
"You're looking after Lucy, Charlotte…cooking…cleaning…you hardly seem to stop. I can always hire some to help for the house or the girls if you need to rest. You only gave birth a few weeks ago, Elizabeth."
She shook her head. "I can cope."
"But the fact is that you shouldn't feel that you are just coping," Laszlo said to her.
"I'm fine," she promised him. "And…truth be told…after Mary…I just don't know if it would feel right. She was always here and I helped her as she helped me. I don't like the idea of someone new coming in."
Laszlo nodded once. "And I understand that, but I am busy at the Institute and I don't want you to feel that it is on you to look after Charlotte and Lucy on top of the house and everything else."
"I don't feel that. Besides, you've been a great help, Laszlo."
"But I am not here during the day all the time," Laszlo responded. "Just don't struggle, Elizabeth."
"I'm not," she assured him, knowing that she was lying, kissing him once more. "Now, if you can stay with Lucy, I'll go and finish cooking and getting dinner ready."
"I can do that," Laszlo said.
He spent the rest of the evening with his family, talking to Charlotte over dinner about how school was going and asking her if she would perhaps enjoy going to the department store that weekend for a new toy considering Laszlo still had some items to buy for Lucy, including furniture for the nursery that was almost finished being decorated. She looked excited about that and Laszlo also sat with her that night, teaching her the basic notes on the piano as Elizabeth fed Lucy and put her to bed.
She came back down and told Charlotte it was time for her to go to bed. Charlotte pecked Laszlo on the cheek and Elizabeth went upstairs and helped get her ready. Twenty minutes later, she returned and went to start clearing the dining table of the plates. She gathered them up and moved through to the kitchen, Laszlo helping her.
"I can still smell the burning," Laszlo suddenly said, placing cutlery away as Elizabeth dried her hands on a towel, dropping it onto the worktop. Turning around to face him, she leant against the back of the worktop, her thighs brushing them. He kept his back to her as he spoke and continued putting things away. "I know that it's irrational because the smell should have gone by now, but I can't get rid of it."
Elizabeth sighed softly and Laszlo turned around to face her. She said nothing in response to him, remaining still on the spot. His gaze met hers and he shook his head.
"And the strange part is that Martha had accepted death," he said and Elizabeth bit down on her tongue, letting Laszlo continue to talk. He clearly wanted to get things off of his chest. He needed someone to talk to. "She was dead before she walked into that execution, Elizabeth. The only concern she had was her baby and finding out what happened to her…her daughter…and I understood that, Elizabeth. I understood how she felt because the idea of losing Lucy or Charlotte or you is enough to terrify me because I don't know what I would do without you all."
"You'll never have to find out, Laszlo," Elizabeth promised him and she stepped towards him, wrapping him into her arms. He allowed her to take the lead and he bowed his head, resting his cheek by her shoulder and bending slightly. A hand moved into his hair, stroking it softly and gently.
"I promised her that I would do everything I can to find her daughter," Laszlo informed her.
"I don't doubt you will."
"But what if I can't?"
"Then you will have done everything you can, Laszlo," Elizabeth said, chin on the top of his head. "Please, I do not want to see you blame yourself for this. It is not your fault. It is the fault of those who condemned Martha without evidence."
Laszlo sighed, his warm breath tickling Elizabeth's neck. He forced himself to stand up straight once more. "Would you be aggrieved if I went for a walk?"
"At this time of night?" Elizabeth questioned.
"I will be fine. I just need some air and I doubt I could sleep or that I would even make good company."
"You know," Elizabeth whispered, her hand going to run along his chin, her fingers stroking his beard. "I'm your wife, Laszlo. I can be with you regardless of whether you would make good company. You don't need to force yourself to act a certain way around me."
"I know," Laszlo agreed with her on that point. "I just think that I might be better off with my own thoughts."
"If that's what you need then that's what you need," Elizabeth promised him. "I'll be waiting back here for you."
"Thank you, my dear," Laszlo mumbled and he bent down, kissing her chastely before he turned on his heel. Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest and sighed loudly once he had gone, looking to the ground for a moment and then sniffing loudly.
How did she tell Laszlo that she wanted him to stay? She wanted to be selfish and she wanted her husband to spend time with her. Ever since he had taken on the Napp case, she had seen him less and less. She didn't resent him, not at all. She knew that he was doing everything he could and she had wanted him to help Martha. But, a part of Elizabeth was selfish. She wanted her husband at home more than he was. But she knew who Laszlo Kreizler was. He was a determined man with his own mind and a strong will. He was the man she had fallen in love with.
…
Laszlo didn't know how he found himself at Sara's offices, but as soon as he walked by 808 Broadway, he saw that the lights were burning bright in her office. He took the steps up to her office, looking around the dimly lit corridor. Pushing the door open, Laszlo looked into the offices and he saw Sara stood there, a gun in her hands and aimed directly at him. She lowered it as soon as she processed who he was.
"Laszlo, I could have shot you," she complained to him, the gun dangling in her hand by her side.
"You might have done me a service," he responded. "I can't seem to get rid of the smell of burning flesh from my nostrils because it is no longer a physical sensation, only a memory."
Sara gathered her breath as she listened to the doctor. She moved back to her office after nodding at him. Wandering to the drinks tray by the window, she looked at the selection of alcohol.
"What would you have to drink, Laszlo?" she questioned, knowing that he was following her.
"I'll have a glass of burgundy."
"I have American bourbon. Straight up or watered down?" Sara responded, not giving him many other options. She looked to him as he chuckled, hanging his hat up on the coat stand and then turning back to her.
"I'll have that," he informed her and she poured him a glass of the liquid. Handing the glass to him, she went back to her own drink on her desk, sinking into her chair. Laszlo remained stood, peering around the room and seeing the possessions on display. He began to talk, telling Sara that he could deduce who she was from the objects on display. But Sara pleaded with him not to analyse her and he could agree to that.
"Your father would be proud of you," he said to her, "for what you have accomplished."
"I would hope so," Sara replied and Laszlo raised his glass.
She raised her own, the two of them toasting to that. They recalled what had happened that day, Laszlo telling Sara that he had promised Martha that he would look for her missing child and she offered him her services. He took a sip of his drink, grateful for her agreeing to help him.
"You do not need to search for the child on your own," Sara said to him. "You have help here and no doubt you might need it. It must be hectic at home and working at the Institute."
"There is never a dull moment," Laszlo admitted with a nod of his head and took another sip of the bourbon, not entirely used to the taste of it. It wasn't his preferred drink. He closed his eyes and Sara noticed a flicker of something cross his face.
"What is it?" Sara asked from Laszlo.
"Something that I should discuss with my wife and not broadcast, I suspect."
"Is Elizabeth well?" Sara enquired.
Laszlo didn't know if he was overstepping a mark. He didn't know if it was right to disclose his fears and concerns to Sara, but sometimes he needed someone to talk to. And he had already expressed his feelings to Elizabeth, but she had been insistent that she was fine, promising him that she could cope.
"I don't know," Laszlo admitted to Sara. "She claims that she is fine, but she still has night terrors, which is not surprising. But after Lucy was born I considered hiring someone to help around the house so that Elizabeth didn't have to do everything herself. But she insisted she was fine and she didn't want someone else in the house. I raised the point again today and she still said that she was fine…that it would feel as though she was replacing Mary…and I understand that. But I worry that she is doing too much. She cares for Lucy…is in charge of the house…looks after Charlotte…and still insists on helping at the Institute."
Sara's brow arched on her forehead. "Do you think that she is keeping busy to distract herself?"
"I have thought about this," Laszlo confirmed with a nod of his head. "And it would make sense. Her mother's death has been playing on her mind and so has Martha Napp's case. It brings back what could have happened at the Lying-In Hospital with Doctor Markoe."
"Understandable," Sara said, nursing her drink in her fingertips. She placed the glass to her lips and took a sip. "I think that you need to try and have a frank conversation with her."
Laszlo chuckled and shook his head. "She simply brushes me off and insists everything is fine and she is coping," he said to Sara. "And recently it feels as though she does not want to discuss these matters with me because she feels it would burden me further. I admit that during the case I have been particularly closed off to her. I worked late. I came home in foul moods. There have been very few moments where we have laughed and felt carefree…except, perhaps ironically, at Delmonico's last night."
"I think you need to take time to be with her," Sara declared, entirely certain that was what he needed. "You have gone through so much together in such a short space of time that perhaps what is needed is the chance for you both to be with each other…no distractions."
"Perhaps so," Laszlo could agree on that point. He finished his bourbon and stood up straight, leaving his glass on the table. "And, on that note, I shall take your advice and return home to talk to her."
"And if you need help…whether that be on the case or simply looking after Lucy and Charlotte, then you know where I am."
Laszlo bowed his head. "Thank you, Sara."
"Anytime, Laszlo," Sara responded and she watched him pick his hat back up, placing it onto his head and leave her office. She leant back in her chair and took out a cigarette, lighting it up and dangling it in between her lips. Blowing out a puff of smoke, she closed her eyes and wondered if sleep would come to her that night.
…
Elizabeth was finishing off hanging up clothes in the nursery later that evening. She had done the laundry and was in the process of putting things away after ironing what had to be ironed. She had to admit that she was exhausted. But it kept her busy. And she needed to stay busy. She was just about to turn the light out and leave the nursery when she heard Laszlo's footsteps behind her.
"I did not hear the front door open," Elizabeth said.
"I came in through the back," Laszlo said. "I have locked both doors for the evening."
"Thank you," Elizabeth said to him.
"You do not need to thank me, but you do need to talk to me," Laszlo responded and she arched her brow. Laszlo moved towards her and took hold of her hand. "Come with me."
She wondered where they were going as Laszlo led her through the house and back downstairs to the dining room. She arched her brow before she saw that the dining table was set with two plates and two glasses of red wine. Two slices of cake sat on the plates as Elizabeth contemplated what Laszlo was doing. She said nothing, keeping quiet as Laszlo placed a hand to the small of her back and guided her forwards.
"What's this?" she wondered and he pulled out her chair for her.
"Do you remember the first night we admitted our feelings for each other…honestly, that is?" Laszlo wondered.
"I'm unlikely to forget," she responded, a soft smile sitting on her lips as she spoke and took her seat. "We'd left Delmonico's after Jacob's parents saw us there. You took me home and we ate cake before admitting everything."
"Indeed, we did," Laszlo said to her and went to his own seat. "And so I thought that I would recreate that evening."
"Why?"
"Because I want you to talk to me honestly," Laszlo said and she took a small sip of wine, letting it sit on her tongue before swallowing, quite enjoying the taste after months of not drinking it. "I want you to talk to me like you used to because ever since I took on Martha Napp's case I feel that you have closed yourself off more than I would like."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "I haven't meant to," she said to him. "I didn't think that I had."
"On the contrary, I feel that you have."
Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm fine."
"But that is the problem, Elizabeth," Laszlo said to her. "I know the expectations that society bestows on women. I know how they are expected to smile and claim that they are fine when they are not. I know how having children, being married…they are supposed to be happy with that. But we both know differently. You do not have to adhere to those expectations, not with me."
Picking up her fork, Elizabeth held it in her fingertips and cut into the slice of cake. She wondered where Laszlo had even gotten cake from at that time of night, but she didn't bother to ask. She kept her gaze on the cake as she spoke.
"You've had so much going on, Laszlo," Elizabeth said to him. "I don't want to sound like the needy wife who wants her husband at home with her, not when there are bigger things to worry about. Martha's case…her life…her baby…they were all more important than how I felt."
Laszlo shook his head and watched her pop a piece of the cake into her mouth. She chewed on it for a few moments and lowered her fork back to the plate, letting it clatter against the china plate. Laszlo reached his hand out and took hold of hers on the table top.
"The case was important," Laszlo agreed with her. "And I think I became even more attached to it because of what could have happened to you, Elizabeth, but you are my wife. You are my wife and you are the most important thing to me, you and our family, anyway."
"I know," she said, giving his fingers a tight hold in her grip. She didn't want him to feel guilty over anything. She never wanted him to feel that.
"Then talk to me now and do not feel that you have to tell me you are fine if you are not."
He could see her hesitate for a few moments and he moved to his feet. He pulled Elizabeth to her own feet before taking his place in her seat. He tugged on her wrist and she sat down over his lap, her arm moving around his shoulders and clinging tightly onto him. He looked over her for a few moments and reached his good hand up to her cheek, stroking her hair from her face.
"I know that I shouldn't care," Elizabeth began, finally opening up to Laszlo and placing a hand to his chest, playing with the tie sat there. "But I do care. I care about finding out what happened to my mother. I want to know who murdered her and why. After everything she's done, I know that I should not care, perhaps, as much as do, but I want to find out…and I cannot get over this feeling that whoever did it…whoever killed her…there was a reason and I just want to know that reason."
Laszlo nodded pensively. He could understand that point of view completely. She let out another breath.
"And perhaps…without Mary…days in the house can feel lonely when you're at the Institute, especially now I can't work there as much," she continued and her fingers flattened against his tie, Laszlo seeing her wedding band as she continued to toy with it. "And then looking after the house…cleaning…cooking…without anyone here and now with Lucy-"
"-I asked you if you were struggling."
"And I didn't want to bother you."
Laszlo sighed at hearing her say that, head shaking back and forth pensively. "Elizabeth, what happened to burdens being shared in our marriage? I thought that was what we had agreed?"
"We did," Elizabeth said to him. "But I just felt as though you had too much on your plate and I wanted to be the one who helped cheer you up…make you feel better…whenever you got home. I didn't want to be the one adding to your worries and concerns."
He almost wanted to groan loudly. He blamed himself for being so remiss, of course. But his mind had been elsewhere for the past few weeks.
"And I know you tell me that I can tell you anything and that I don't need to adhere to societal expectations, but it can be hard, Laszlo. I was raised to never complain when I was married. A wife never bothered her husband. She simply put on a smile and carried on her with her duties…looking pretty to sit on his arm at dinner…being the good mother…and I want to be a good mother to Lucy. I adore her so much, but I worry that I'm letting her down. I still struggle to feed her. I don't really know how to bathe her properly and the midwife who checks up on her just scolds me whenever she comes over."
"These are all natural things to worry about," Laszlo promised her. "But we can solve the majority of them and I should have insisted on someone to help you sooner."
"I don't want a nanny, Laszlo."
"Not a nanny," Laszlo promised her. "But what if we hired someone to help around the house? I know that you feel it would be replacing Mary, but it wouldn't be. We will always have Mary, Elizabeth."
"But I should be able to cope with this. There are people so much worse off who cope with much more. And Lucy has only been here less than three weeks."
"True, but you should not compare yourself to others," Laszlo urged from her.
"I just feel like I am whinging."
"No, you are telling me the truth," Laszlo said to her. "It is more than fine for you to admit that you are struggling. New mothers are convinced to keep their struggles to themselves and I have seen first hand the impact that can have not only on them, but on their child. I do not want you to feel that way and therefore I will find someone to help you around the house and as for the midwife…well…would it perhaps help if I was here when she visited?"
"Is that traditional?"
"I suppose not, but we are not entirely conventional, are we? Isn't that what we always said to each other?"
"I guess it is," Elizabeth agreed with him and he noted her lips arch slightly.
Laszlo moved his hand to her chin, his fingers curling underneath it and lifting it. He looked into her eyes, his lips parted slightly before he leaned in and kissed her, hoping that he was able to convey how he felt about her through that motion. He wanted her to see that he was there for her and that would never change. One of her hands ran up to his shoulder as her other hand dropped down his chest, trailing over the buttons of his waistcoat towards his stomach. Laszlo moved his hand to grab hers then, stilling her movements.
"We can't," he reminded her.
"No, technically I can't," she responded.
"You shouldn't be exerting yourself," Laszlo said to her and she sighed.
"Do you not want me? Is that it?" she wondered from him and his eyes widened as he began to question if he had said the wrong thing. Shaking his head forcefully, he didn't want her to think that for a moment. "Because you haven't let me anywhere near you, even since before Lucy was born."
"Because I want to wait," Laszlo said. "Believe me, it is not a question of not wanting you, Elizabeth. All I want is you, but I do not want to take my pleasure and not be able to reciprocate. It is not fair on you."
"And if I want to?" Elizabeth wondered from him. "Because I do want to, Laszlo. I miss us…I miss being with you…"
"And I miss you too," he promised her in a deep voice, finding that his throat was clenching slightly and his breath feeling slightly heavy and laboured. Elizabeth dropped her hand to the top of his trousers, feeling the waistband there. She leant in and kissed him once more, Laszlo tilting his head back and groaning as she moved her lips down his neck.
But before she had a chance to advance any further, a loud piercing scream echoed through the house. Elizabeth froze for a moment, the scream continuing. Looking Laszlo in the eye, Elizabeth pushed herself from his lap and ran ahead of him. He was only a few steps behind her, following her up the staircase.
"Charlotte!" Elizabeth yelled the girl's name.
She rushed to the bedroom door, flinging it open as Laszlo followed her, the noise of Lucy's cries soon entering his ears.
"Charlotte, what is it?" Elizabeth asked, finding the little girl out of bed and stood by the window. She shook her head quickly, dressed in a flowing white nightgown, her hair hanging loosely down her back in a loose plait. "Darling, talk to me," Elizabeth encouraged from her, seeing that she was shaking wildly.
"Someone was there," Charlotte said, her face pale white and her arm outstretched, finger pointing to the window. "I went to shut the window and they were there…staring at me…"
"Was it a man or a woman?"
"I don't know," Charlotte said to Laszlo.
"Lucy," Elizabeth said their daughter's name, turning her head over her shoulder and looking to Laszlo. He nodded his head and moved off towards their bedroom and found her still crying. He reached into the crib and managed to pick her up, holding her in his arms against his chest, whispering to her softly before moving back to Charlotte's bedroom.
Elizabeth was still knelt in front of Charlotte, but she had urged the little girl to sit on her bed. She held her hands tightly and told her that everything was fine. Looking to Laszlo for a moment, she wondered what he was thinking.
"Can you tell us anything else, Charlotte?" Laszlo wondered, Lucy still crying as he rocked her and went to sit down on the bed next to her.
"No," Charlotte shook her head. "I don't know…but…they were wearing black…and they were staring up at me…I know they were."
"We believe you, sweetheart," Elizabeth promised her, reaching up and running a hand along her cheek. "We just want to know if you remember anything else."
She shook her head. "I don't," she responded.
"Alright," Elizabeth promised her. "Listen to me," she said, getting her to look her in the eye. "You're safe here and whoever it was…I'm sure it was no one important and you don't need to be scared, alright?"
"Elizabeth is right," Laszlo emphasized for her. "I'm certain that it will have been nothing and there is no reason to be scared."
Charlotte nodded and Elizabeth brushed a tear from her cheek. "Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked, peering down to Elizabeth. "Please?"
"Of course," Elizabeth said and she squeezed her fingers. "Just let me put Lucy back to bed and I will be back, okay?"
Charlotte nodded and Elizabeth urged her back into bed. Laszlo stood up and gave Charlotte a reassuring smile. He continued to hold Lucy while Elizabeth went to the window and looked outside. There was no one there. She made certain that the window was locked before closing the curtains tightly. Turning back to Charlotte, she tucked her firmly into her own bed and kissed her on the forehead, promising her that she would be back in ten minutes.
Following Laszlo back to their own room, she closed the door as her husband laid Lucy back in her crib, her cries having stopped.
"What are you thinking?" Elizabeth asked from Laszlo.
"Hard to say after the day we've had," Laszlo admitted to his wife. "I am thinking that Charlotte has seen a great deal of tragedy in her life and perhaps she might have imagined seeing someone…or someone might have been there and passing by. She had just woken from sleep."
Elizabeth hummed and Laszlo arched his brow.
"You do not sound convinced," Laszlo said to her.
"After everything that has happened to us and everything we have seen…I just don't know if maybe she did see someone. We should at least entertain the idea that she did."
"And who would be watching our house?"
"We've been followed before, remember?" Elizabeth replied. "And between the two of us and my family, we're not short of people who aren't exactly pleased with us."
"But who could it be?"
"I don't know," Elizabeth said. "But I think we shouldn't dismiss her, Laszlo."
"Hmm."
"You don't sound convinced this time."
"I work with children, Elizabeth," Laszlo reminded his wife. "I work with children who have been traumatised in life and have seen things that no child should see. I know how their imaginations can be overactive and how they think they can see things that are simply not there."
"But Charlotte has never done anything like this," she responded with a shake of her head. "She has never had an overactive imagination and she has been with us for almost a year now."
"True," Laszlo admitted to that. "But, if it would make you feel better then we can be vigilant, but I doubt the police would be able to help us."
Elizabeth scoffed. "I doubt they would want to help us," she added on.
"That too," Laszlo concurred.
Elizabeth sighed and he saw her reach for her hair, tugging on it and moving it over her shoulder. Laszlo closed the distance between the two of them and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding onto her firmly. She moved her cheek to sit on top of his shoulder and closed her eyes firmly, Laszlo kissed her forehead and resting his bearded cheek by it.
"It's been quite the day," Laszlo mumbled.
"That it has been," Elizabeth agreed.
"And whatever comes our way…we'll face it together…you always have me."
Her own arms tightened around him and Laszlo kept his grip on her, uncertain and unknowing of the storm that was coming their way.
...
A/N: Would love to know what you think - love reading reviews!