I have been bombarded with Desmott once again. He was not sent to retrieve me as he had been during our first meeting; rather he was strategically placed. I found him sitting in a cushioned chair right outside of the entrance on the hospital. He was reading today's press and humming something oddly jolly. It did not fit his character and subsequently set my teeth on edge.

"Why, Miss Holbrook," he had said, the newspaper suddenly abandoned as he stood to greet me. "I had not anticipated meeting you here." We had exchanged pleasantries and he had asked about my being at the hospital.

"I hope you are not unwell?" I hated the way he said it, his voice tight, as if he was remembering all he had been told, had seen of me, the last time we'd spoken.

"I'm doing fine, thank you. I'm here to meet Lucius—" I quickly corrected myself, annoyed at the familiar was his name fell from my lips.  I blushed and stuttered out his title and sir name with little grace. "To meet Dr. Abaddon. He asked me to accompany him on a tour of the facilities."

Blessedly, Desmott ignored me falter and only tilted his head to one side, ever the cat examining the mouse. "And he did not go himself to meet you?"

Disapproval. He didn't like that I'd come alone. I forced a smile, which I hoped would convey my desire for him to keep his nose squarely away from my affairs, and said, "He sent a letter this morning saying he'd had a meeting to attend. The carriage ride was short and the weather pleasant enough. It isn't any of your concern."Silent fell, long enough for me to feel guilty and I admitted, "But, I had hoped he might be here when I arrived."

Desmott glanced around, as if his friend might have appeared from thin air as we were speaking, before he looked at to me. "Yes, well..." He fiddled with a small pocket watch chained to his vest and said, "I suppose I could show you the way to his office. Perhaps you'd like some tea before your tour? I'm certain there is some to be found."

I nodded and fell into step next to him. It was early and we passed only a scattered few nurses and a doctor or two as we strolled through the newly painted hallways. As we walked, a thought occurred to me and I let it fall from my lips before I could think to stop myself. "I should, of course, have a chaperone. I...We shouldn't be alone. It's not right for me to be alone with you. Your reputation is not..." I trailed off, taking another three steps before I realized that Desmott had stopped moving.

I turned to look at him.

His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides, a nervous gesture. I was making him nervous. "You're right." He said quietly, "Perhaps I should fetch a nurse to take you to Lucius' office. It was rude of me to even ask you to walk with me—I assure you, I meant no ill will."

"I don't mean to imply that your conduct has been ungentlemanly only—" my voice froze in my throat and I met his eyes, sure we were both thinking of Rosie in that instant.

That wretched girl seems to have a way of appearing in my thoughts, and in the physical, at the most inconvenient times. It is a talent, really. I wonder if this is a skill mastered by all actresses, or just the ones who wore themsleves out? It is enough to make me want to scream.

Desmott cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a few raven curls. "I will leave you and send a nurse in my stead. Have a splendid day, Miss Holbrook." He took off down the hallway, his strides a bit shorter and hastier that were necessary.

No. This was not at all what I'd wanted, not what I intended.

Despite everything I have ever been taught about how a lady should behave—I gathered my skirt in my hands and went after him. "Desmott. Desmott, please wait." He did not stop walking right away; rather he slowed his step to allow me to catch him. "I did not mean to offend you." I said, keeping my voice low as we fell into step again. "Of course your manner has always been gentlemanly towards me."

He laughed. "Your tone moments ago said quite enough. No need to rub salt in the wound."

"You must understand that my only experiences with you were alongside a—a—"

"A what?"

A gray haze seemed to seem from him at my words, the beginnings of the shadows I knew so well. If I let myself, I could drink them in, take the hurt from him.

My voice shook as I answered, "She's a common whore."

"No." He took off down the hall again and I was forced to double my steps to keep up with his long gait. "Rosalie is not a common whore. She is an actress."

"Call her what you will, but her actions on the day of our meeting were that of someone less than a lady."

"And what of my actions?"

When I did not answer he stopped once more.

"Come now, Miss Holbrook. Clearly you believe one of us is more at fault than the other—who is to blame? Miss Gressil or myself?"

"This is not about who is to blame. I am merely trying to apologize for any offense I may have caused by the way I phrased things earlier. I have no interest in discussing guilt with you."

He shook his head and began walking, the shadows clinging to his clothes, his hair—his very skin. They seemed to dart around him, whisper to him. "I have apologized to you for my behavior on more than one occasion," he told me, "and you have yet to even consider granting me your forgiveness. I assure you I am deeply sorry for my behavior, but that was nearly two weeks ago and you are still citing it as a reason to distrust me."

"I do not distrust you, Desmott. I was merely speaking out of propriety. It is inappropriate for us to be seen walking together without a chaperone."

"Yes, well, I have tried to walk away from you no less than twice and you insist on sticking by my side. Perhaps you care less about propriety than you would have others believe. If not, let me suggest that you lag behind a few steps out of decorum or, better yet, return to the entrance where I am certain Lucius will eventually join you. I promise you there is no need for us to speak in future."

I froze and watched him walk away from me.

When I had first spoken to Lucius about moving to the London, I had feared the easy access to others pain. I had worried that it would be overwhelming, that I might truly go mad from it. But if was not the hospital that made me surrender my hard won control, it was Desmott.

I took off after him, whether from the draw of experiencing his pain or for concern for him, I am still unsure. The shadows were black now; swirling and ebbing like a dark tide preparing to swallow the man in front of me whole—and yet he did not seem affected. He should have been, others had quelled themsleves to lesser darkness.

This was a familiar darkness as if I had faced it before and forgotten.

"Leviathan?" The word spilled from me, no more than a whisper, a noise almost lost in the very air I was breathing, the swish of my skirts, the thump of his heavy footsteps. My vision wavered with tears and a choking vice seemed to seize my very heart. I might have described the sensation as my own agony if I could have been able to distinguish his from mine in that moment. I wish I could. I wish I knew for certain what he was feeling just then.

He turned to face me, his dark eyes widening, then narrowing, as he took me in. Words appeared on his lips and he opened them to speak, to say something in response to my odd cry, but he was silenced by another man's voice.

"Ah! There you are Miss Holbrook. I had begun to think you had not come after all. I am sorry that I have kept you waiting. And you as well, Levi, I assumed you were busy with preparations for tonight's opening. Gressil and I have already reserved seats."

Desmott recovered faster than I had. He strode forward, closing the gap that had separated us, and shook his friend's hand. "I took some time off from the theatre, thought I'd swing by and see if you were perhaps free for lunch, but I see you are quite busy with Miss Holbrook. I was accompanying her to your office. I will take my leave now and let you get on with your plans for the day."

I hastily wiped away the tears that had been building and turned to look at Lucius putting on the most flawless smile I could muster. "Yes, thank you, Desmott. Without you, I would have certainly been very lost here." Desmott nodded first to me, then to Lucius, before he slid past me and headed back towards the entrance.

"Levi?" Lucius called.

Levi stopped in his tracks but did not turn around.

"You will be backstage after the performance tonight." It was not a question. His lips curled into a sly smile as he said, "I would so like to meet the girls. I hear Miss Gressil is quite charming—as, I'm sure, are the other young ladies."

It was slight, the way the muscles in Desmott's back tightened. I do not think Lucius even noticed it. The shadows swirled and swirled, a cyclone preparing to sweep him into oblivion. Slowly, Desmott turned and smiled, the action full of charm and confidence, "I'll let them know you're coming by."

The London is a very cold and sterile place. It smells of chemicals and musty bed linens—two things I am far too familiar with. I was given a quick tour, a carless parade of waiting rooms and patient quarters. I did not speak often and Lucius did not seem to mind in the least. It did not take me long to realize that he does not know how to handle comfortable silence, for it is never comfortable when he is apart of it. Rather, it is stiff and waiting. The silence is achingly tortured by the constant sound of his voice, which is both silk and honey, but still manages to slowly strangle my very nerves. Whenever silence does manage to fall, he is quick to fill it with scattered needless words. He is a storyteller and I am a listening ear, a blank page waiting to collect his words, his truth.

"Now, tell me, how has Mrs. Farley felt having you stay at her home?" He asked me.

"Lizzie and I have become good friends. She is especially close with, Miss McCall."

"You mean the nun from the asylum?"

"From St. Agatha's, yes."

"I only ask because it seems that Mrs. Farley is quite uncomfortable with your presence. She has contacted me on numerous occasions asking what it is she is to do with you while you stay with her. She is quite a fearful woman. I have, of course, assured her that you are in no way dangerous—"

I stopped listening, unable to hear over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears. I spoke, breaking through his stream of never-ending prattle so ask, "But why would she think I was? I have been nothing but contented since I first arrived. I have given her no reason to fear me." The grief in my own voice was palpable, it tasted of copper, ash and years of betrayal from people I should be able to trust. I wanted to spit it out, to rinse my tongue and teeth of it.

Lucius sighed, but the sound was forced, almost bored. "This is expected. You were locked away in an asylum for three years. Mrs. Farley, however good her intentions are, has only ever known this side of you. She expects you to be ill-tempered. Expectation is a frightful thing, it often causes problems where there should not be any."

I shook my head and said, "Gabe would have mentioned something to me if Lizzie was concerned, I am certain of it."

"It is possible he did not want to upset you."

But he would have told me. It Gabe had any reason to believe his wife, his love, were afraid of me, afraid for me, he would have told me. There are things he keeps from me, certainly,  just as all men have things they keep from fairer sex, but not this. Not when he knows how important my new relationship with Lizzie, with any person, is to my survival.

I looked down at my shoes, peaking out from the swirl of my gown as we walked. "We are friends, he and I." I explained, hating how nieve I sounded. "I know he would have spoken to me if he believed, even for an instant, that his wife were uneasy about my being with them."

Lucius cleared his throat and moved to open a door for me. "Well, I do not mean to cast doubt on your friend's character, but I would urge you to remain wary."

My corset felt too tight, crushing at my ribs. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know which of the nuns at St. Agatha's was opening your mail?"

"Miss McCall—"

"I see. Well, if your friend was willing to intercept your mail while in the asylum, who is to say she would not attempt the same from without?"

"Hanny was only doing her job—"

"I am surprised that you chose her, of all the ladies at St. Agatha's. When Mr. Farley first asked me about assigning you a nurse I had assumed you might choose someone else, especially after the conversation we had upon first meeting. If she was one of the nuns that were opening your mail then—"

"Gabe asked about getting me a nurse?"

Lucius hesitated, his steps faltering slightly. "Well, yes... I assumed you knew as much."

"I was told that Hanny was to come as a companion, just until I am settled."

Lucius smiled at me, his eyes turning apologetic as he said, "Yes, to keep an eye on you and help if you were to have an incident."

"I do not have incidents. I am not mad."

"Of course, I assured them of this—"

Rage, so intense I saw red, filled me. "I have never purposefully hurt anyone. The house fire—it wasn't my fault." Maybe, if I said those words enough, someone would hear me. Someone, anyone, would believe me.

"Miss Holbrook, I assure you that I know this. I am not in any way worried that you are mad. I believe you suffer from an illness that keeps you from recognizing pain, but I do not believe that it is something that has rendered you incapable of intelligent action."

He stopped outside of a smooth wooden door that housed a thin silver plaque containing his name in precise chiseled letters. He opened the door and gestured for me to step inside. His office was dark, with heavy-laden bookshelves, a dark stained desk that was covered in handwritten notes and scholarly essays. I marveled at the impressive swirling script, so unlike my own penmanship.

He walked past me and pulled back heavy curtains to allow the sun to soak the room. Dust mites made the air sparkle like fairy powder. Dr. Abaddon gestured to an armchair, suggesting I should take it, but then scoffed when he realized that it too was covered in research. I stood clear as he gathered his books and supplies from the seat only to stack them haphazardly in a corner.

"Make yourself comfortable, Miss Holbrook. I do apologize for the mess—I rarely have ladies visit."

I lowered myself into the seat as daintily as I could, trying to imagine how Lizzie might do it. She always seemed to float, like an ethereal being, too pretty and perfect for this world. She would make the gesture appear graceful, all I could feel was the way my corset seemed to tighten it's hold on my chest as I relaxed into the chair.

Lucius emptied the armchair opposite mine and settled himself into it. "Now, where were we?"

"Do you believe you can heal me?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yes. I believe with experiments and tests, some more pleasant than others, we may be able to learn what is causing this inability and perhaps correct it."

"What kind of experiments?"

"I would begin by testing this condition against fire once more. See how your body reacts now that you have gone three years without feeling pain. If you cannot feel pain then we should have nothing large to lose. My belief, as things are now, is that constant and repetitive introduction to painful stimuli might teach itself to register it."

I swallowed, "And if I were to learn to feel pain, might I be free to live my life as any girl my age would?"

He smiled at me, his disconcerting green eyes crinkling at the edged. "If you were to feel pain then I would see no reason that you should not rejoin society."

I wanted to be honest with him, to tell him that I could feel pain—that if I let myself, I could feel the pain of other people. I could take away their pain if I would only allow myself the luxury. But the words stuck like tar in my throat, unable to find solidity in speech.

Instead I said, "When can we start?"

"Whenever you are ready."

*****

Hey fellow Victorians,
Thank you for reading up until this point! Don't forget to comment and like if you're enjoying what you're reading. Oh, Mr. Desmott. Levi seems to have a certain knack for getting under Merritt's skin. He seems to always say and do the wrong things. Maybe he isn't the perfect gentleman after all. But, he is devilishly handsome so maybe we can let it slide just this once? Let me know your thoughts.
❤️ Thanks.