Scarlett James was nearly impossible to read.

Usually, Leo could decipher what she was thinking, or at least some semblance of what she could be thinking, but that wasn't happening tonight. When he pulled away from whispering in her ear, he leaned back to assess her reaction. But of course, there was nothing.

"Well, they shall be disappointed then, won't they?" she said. "I am not dancing."

For a moment, Leo feared that she would try to walk away from him, but she merely slipped her arm through his and looked up at him expectantly. The woman was simply ravishing. Golden ribbon framed the top of her bodice, drawing Leo's eyes to the swell of ivory flesh there. Knowing she was watching him carefully, Leo jerked his gaze to her guarded emerald eyes.

"Are we to complete our rounds, my lord?" she asked finally.

Leo cleared his voice. "Oh yes, of course." He was making himself look like a bloody fool.

They set off again, walking around the busy dance floor. "I would think by now that you could simply refer to me as Leo."

"Can I?"

"My friends do," Leo said casually. "Unless we are merely acquaintances. But I've never known acquaintances to do the things we have." He raised a brow.

"My lord!" she exclaimed with a laugh, and Leo felt like he had surpassed an important milestone.

November 14, 1838. Made Scarlett James laugh.

"You cannot say such things," she accused.

"Why? Because people will think that we have committed treasonous offenses together?"

"No, because people will think—" She paused, her lips pursed together tightly.

"What?" Leo repressed a grin.

"You know very well, what." Her words came out clipped, but she suddenly appeared flushed. Leo felt another moment of triumph.

November 14, 1838. Made Scarlett James blush.

"Oh, that?" Leo said dramatically. "I should never be so ungentlemanly as to imply such a thing that isn't true. Remember, I do not mince words."

Scarlett looked as though she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes. "Then do not say such things that can be misconstrued," she drawled.

"I am not the best at thinking before I speak, but I shall endeavor to be more careful around you, Madame Mischief."

"Leo." She ground out between her teeth, looking quickly around them to see if anyone overheard. "You did that on purpose."

"Oh shush, no one heard me. Your secret identity is safe with me. And Theo. And Will. And Emilia, Addie, Andrew, and Clemonte. Wait, is it really even a secret anymore?" Leo listed all the people that had worked with them to get Addie onto the throne after her uncle, Ernest, had killed her family and stolen the crown.

"It most certainly is a secret," Scarlett hissed. "You have named a very small percentage of this country."

"Ah, but we are the most important percentage, am I right?"

Leo could tell that she was resisting the urge to smile, and he would take it.

As they made it back to where they departed his mother before, Scarlett took her leave from him. Leo watched as she strode away, her light purple-colored skirts swishing as she strode demurely to the other side of the ballroom. She picked up a glass of cider before moving in the direction of Emilia, who was speaking to one of the ton's most infamous matrons, Lady Worthington.

Scarlett was mere steps from their hostess when she was intercepted by Lord Symons. He was a baron with considerable holdings in the mercantile business. But more importantly, he was a pompous jerk. Leo watched as the man leered down at her and laid a hand brusquely on her arm. She slowly moved away from his touch, the slightest bit of annoyance on her face.

Leo would love to march across the room and steal her away again, but he knew better than to do something so obvious. Instead, he gritted his teeth and glared, hoping the man could feel his ire from across the floor.

"I cannot tell by your expression if your irritation is directed toward the woman or the man." Leo spun around to see his father sipping on something that looked definitely stronger than the pressed cider Emilia had provided. He was nodding toward Symons and Scarlett.

"Definitely the man," Leo affirmed. "Where have you been?"

The marquess took another drink. "I had to get Maverick to bed."

Leo did not like the expression on his father's face and gave him a questioning look.

But his father merely shook his head like he did not wish to speak of it, but explained anyway. "He was hiding in one of the maid's rooms. I'm not sure if he was thought it was funny or if something was bothering him, but even once I found him, he refused to return to his chambers."

Frowning, Leo clapped his father on the back. There was nothing really that could be said. When it came to Maverick, it was all a mystery. The two of them stood in companionable silence for a while; they didn't speak any more of Maverick or of Leo's quest to find a bride.

Leo observed as Scarlett escaped from conversation with Lord Symons and finally made her way to Emilia's side. He breathed a little sigh of relief.

Leo spent the next few hours tending to his duties. He danced with several other ladies from various backgrounds. There was Lady Helena, who was the daughter of a wealthy earl, Lord Matthews. Matthews sat in Parliament with Leo. She was pretty, but a bit absentminded; she had stepped on Leo's foot at least three times. Leo also danced with a shy debutante, who seemed to have no idea what she was doing at a ball.

Of course, he danced with Emilia once as well—Will would not allow a second time. Addie had been preoccupied most of the evening, visiting with her subjects. It was unusual for a monarch to attend an affair such as this, and her attention was in high demand.

Scarlett also seemed to be busy the rest of the evening. Leo tried not to stare, but he could not help but notice that Scarlett hadn't laughed once since leaving his side. Leo would have recognized that sound from a mile away. It was a rare, fleeting thing. But it was beautiful.

Leo also noticed that no one else had gotten her out onto the dance floor, either.

Not that he was watching.

Not that closely, of course.

But he just happened to be looking in her general direction when Lord Symons approached her side again. He watched as Scarlett gave him a dazzling smile before giving her head a little shake. But the lord didn't seem to be taking no for an answer. Leo wasn't sure what he had said to her, but Symons looped his arm in hers and started walking Scarlett onto the dance floor.

Her eyes grew wide for just a moment, and Leo took a step toward them, ready to swerve between dancers and intercept Symons' unwanted advances. But then the alarm vanished from Scarlett's face, and she looked...fine. Leo retreated to the alcove in the corner of the ballroom, so he could continue to observe without being too conspicuous.

Scarlett and Lord Symons joined the other dancers who were completing the motions of the quadrille. It was a relatively simple dance if one could remember the steps. Naturally, Scarlett was moving along with grace and ease. Her expression was passive; Leo couldn't read it. The orchestra sped up as the dance went along, and Scarlett weaved between the other aristocrats, always in time with the music.

Finally, the ending chord was struck, and the dancers broke apart, floating back toward their chaperones and companions alike. Scarlett gripped the hand of Lord Symons as they made their way back toward the wall of towering windows. After Lord Symons deposited her, Scarlett stood alone for a moment. Leo could tell from across the room that she was breathing deeply, her gloved hand making her way to her exposed chest.

Without warning, she took off, taking the two steps required of leaving the ballroom altogether.

"What the hell," Leo cursed to himself. "What is she doing outside? It's bloody cold."

Skirting the golden outer walls of the ballroom, Leo made his way to the glass doors that Scarlett slipped through, following in the direction that she escaped. She stood not five paces from the house in a darkened corner of the balcony. Her back was turned to him, and not a muscle was moving. It was as if the wind of the oncoming winter had instantly frozen her.

"Scarlett?" he called out.

She did not move.

Leo approached her slowly, coming to stand at her side. Peering over, he saw that her hand was still clutching her chest. She gradually opened her eyes. Suddenly her hand slipped to her stomach, and she took a large breath in. Leo saw her hand rise and fall.

"Scarlett?" he asked again.

"Leo," she breathed, glancing over at him. She looked exhausted, her face transformed from the way it had appeared some ten minutes ago.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

She nodded. "I am now."

"What happened? Why are you out here?" He resisted the urge to reach out to her.

She closed her eyes again briefly before turning to face Leo. "You ask a lot of questions, Lord Farrington."

"Your behavior warrants questions, Lady Humphries."

Scarlett exhaled again, her gaze dropping. "I am fine, Leo. I needed some air. I think I shall venture home now, however. If you'll excuse me."

She made to move around him, but Leo stopped her. "Let me escort you home. You do not seem yourself."

Scarlett barely spared him a glance. "That isn't necessary, Leo. I am merely tired, is all."

Leo clenched his jaw, frustrated despite knowing that she would respond that way. "At least let me escort you to your carriage."

He did not wait for her to reply, instead taking her arm in his.

She did not resist. "Can we walk through the gardens to the front instead?"

Leo turned on his heel, changing their direction to the stairs that led to grass from the balcony. They padded their way down the path, trying to ignore the brisk weather. Leo wasn't sure what he should say to this new Scarlett, the one who almost seemed timid.

When they made it to her carriage, Leo helped her inside and held back his shock that she allowed it. The woman was usually the very model of independence. And it was because of the way that she was acting that Leo asked again, "Are you certain that I cannot escort you home, Scarlett?"

She shook her head. "Okay," Leo said softly. "Let me go fetch your cloak from inside."

Scarlett shook her head again, pulling out a blanket from beneath the seat in her carriage. "I will get it from Emilia another day. I will be fine to make it a few blocks."

Leo searched her face, trying to find answers that weren't there. Never one to shy away from an open gaze, she held his stare. "Tell me what is wrong, Scarlett," he finally said.

She leaned forward, grabbing the handle on the door. "You don't always need to know everything, Leo. But thank you for your concerns. You are a good acquaintance."

She smiled a little in reference to their earlier conversation. And then the door was shut, and she was riding away.