IT DIDN'T TAKE MUCH TIME THROUGH FOOD FOR PEOPLE TO START TALKING TO ONE ANOTHER.
     "I will be right back, my love," Igor whispered to me before getting up and walking towards Carlisle and Father.
     Johnathon was quick to take his seat.
     "Tell me I'm not seeing what I'm seeing," he whispered and looked over his shoulder to Father Cullen and then back to me. "Do not tell me he's Igor's father."
     I looked past him to Father Cullen. Lie? Tell the truth? ...
     "Okay, I won't."
     "But he's your father."
     "And I apparently look a lot like our mother. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to discuss something else. Like why are you here? I thought you were staying with Laurel and the baby," I asked.
     "Curiosity," he answered.
     "I'd wager you regret that now."
     "Not really, it is nice to have another reason to not want to attend church."
     I chuckled but he left me alone after that. It gave me time to really look around at all the faces and with a sinking moment of dread, realised just how many men at the table had made to use my body, and how many hadn't paid and just used. It was terrifying, seeing them all in the one room.
     "I almost didn't recognise you under your new attire," a gruff, drunk voice chuckled beside me. The smell of his body and breath reminded me who it was, a frequent visitor of the saloon... and me. "Come to get more coin tonight, eh?" He asked. "Come for those with more coin?"
     "I don't do that anymore," I stated.
     "Well then," he brushed my hair from my neck and I pulled away from him.
     "Don't touch me."

     "You can't afford to act like that, you slut," he hissed. "Now why don't you come with me and-"
     Just as he went to grab me, someone grabbed his hand firmly and tore him away from me. I stood quickly, knocking my chair over in the process and turned. Igor held the man's wrist tightly, I could see the tense of Igor's muscles, feel the anger radiating from him.
     "The lady requested to not be touched," Igor grunted. He sounded dangerous. "I recommend you follow her words."
     "Igor," I whispered. "Enough."
     With a small growl, Igor let go. The man stumbled back, holding onto his wrist.
     "You're protecting a whore, you know that?" the drunk man grunted. "She sold her body when she lived off the streets and is only here to get ricer customers I'd bet!"
     "I don't do that anymore," I repeated.
     "No, Mr Smith is right," Father Cullen said. "I thought I recognised you. Scum of the street." His smirk, I only had one word for it. Evil. "You are not welcome here, satan's whore."
     Tears in my eyes, I ran out of the church. My legs took me as far as the bench I had sat to talk to Igor on before they bent under me and I cried in the grass.
    Igor soon approached me and pulled me into his arms.
     "I-I-I'm sorry. I..."
     "Shh," he whispered and held me against his chest. "I know your past, Miss Elizabeth. This does nothing for me."
     I kept crying, until he picked me up, cradled me like a babe in his arms.
     "Will you come home with me?" he asked. "I can protect you there, look after you. Remind you of how beautiful you are, how kind..."
     "I don't want to remember tonight."
     I closed my eyes against his chest, but it didn't last like. I felt a strong wind against me and had to open my eyes out of curiosity. I immediately regretted it. London flew past us so quickly, I missed everything! Buildings became trees before I knew it and with my stomach back at the bench, we all too soon arrived at a cottage hidden in the trees.
     "I do not want you crying on your birthday," he muttered. He sat me down on what I was surprised to see, a bed.
     He knelt in front of me.
     "Then help me think of something else?" I muttered, running my fingers through his beard. "Help me forget."
     "I can't," he muttered, keeping eye contact. He pulled my hand away from his face. "I'm not strong enough."
     "You're stronger than you think."
     "Not when it comes to things that will kill you," Igor sighed. "You're human. You're fragile. I'll get you something to eat."
     He left the room and I looked around the bedroom he left me in.
     There was a large wardrobe and a veiled window. I walked out of the room in curiosity and found a powder room, smaller than the one in the Church, but still had a desk of the powders and creams, and a small bucket of water. I used that to wash my face clear and began attempting to get the dress off.
     It was impossible alone.
     I was able to get the top layer off, but that was it.
     "Would you like some help?" Igor asked, suddenly at the door.
     "Igor!" I gasped.
     "Come now, Miss Elizabeth, we both know I've seen you in less."
     It was no possibility for my face to get any more flush than it was.
     Igor laughed but continued to help me get the heavier and more difficult items of clothing off, but the moment after he helped me take off the corset, he rushed out of the room, leaving me too warm in the empty room.
     "Igor," I looked around the room, suddenly very embarrassed. "I... I don't have anything to wear."
     "Yes, you do," I heard echoed up from where I assumed the kitchen was.
     I looked at the huge wardrobe. Has he got clothes for me? That sounded so... strange to me. I opened the wardrobe, and it was filled with all sorts of clothes, dressed, and garments. I was going to get into a nightdress that looks rather nice, but as it was still early, I tried to find something else to wear instead.
     Inside the small drawers I found underclothes, and a few drawers down Igor's clothes.
     I returned to my own clothing and put on a roomy skirt and comfortable top before walking out. I couldn't be bothered to put on a front tied corset.
     I sat at the small, round, dining table as Igor put a hot plate of food in front of me.
     "You know how to cook?" I asked.
     "I wasn't exactly upper class in my youth, Miss Elizabeth," Igor explained. "I had to cook for my family when they were sick."
     "And the bed?" I asked as I started to eat probably some of the best-cooked food I'd probably ever had.
     "Not intended for my sleep," he smiled.
     "This cottage was built and prepared for me, wasn't it?" I asked after swallowing some vegetables that tasted freshly grown and cooked.
     Igor smiled and pulled some pins out of my hair, letting it fall loosely down my back.
     "Thank you," I muttered.
     Igor didn't say much as he watched me eat; actually, he didn't say anything at all, but I was happy just sitting in his protective gaze.
      "I do hope you don't take this the wrong way," he finally spoke once I started cleaning up. I refused to let him do it. "But you are more beautiful than I thought you'd be."
     I had to laugh at it. More beautiful than he thought I'd be? Because I was human? I wouldn't let that get to me in any way.
     "And you're more handsome than my dreams made you out to be," I added and he chuckled with me.
     "This is going to be difficult," I heard him mutter under his breath.
    I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear that or not, so I didn't respond.
     I left to clean myself up a little more thoroughly, then realised just how tired I was, so finally put a nightdress on and went to bed.
     Before I could drift, Igor startled me slightly by slipping on to the bed behind me. There were quilts between him and I, but they did nothing to mute the electrifying cold that radiated off him. He scooted so he was a little closer and put his arm around me, I held his hand and felt nothing but safety, warmth, and love, as I drifted off to sleep.