↫Mischief in Mayfair↬

Dear readers and friends,

I regret to inform you that I shall be on a writer's hiatus. Let us say that I am going on holiday in hopes that inspiration and gossip shall strike me in a new place. I daresay that I shall bring you back the most titillating of tales.

Yours truly, Madame Mischief

"Leo, you can go home. You don't have to stay here," Scarlett sighed, glancing over at the handsome man who, for some reason, wanted to marry her.

His head jerked up from the book he was reading, and a concerned look spread across his face. He placed the book in his lap. Timmy jumped on top of the book, and Leo stroked the cat. They'd become fast friends.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Well, no," Scarlett confessed. His company had been undeniably comforting over the past few days while she took the doctor's advice and focused on resting and recuperating. "I merely am concerned that you shall grow bored of me before we even wed."

Leo snorted. "I'm not concerned." He propped his feet up on the edge of her mattress, leaning back in his chair. Stretching his arms above his head, he yawned.

Scarlett tried not to stare at the way his muscles tightened in his arms as he stretched.

She cleared her throat. "See?" Scarlett accused. "I told you I was boring you."

Dropping his arms back down, Leo leaned forward and Timmy jumped down. "I am relaxed. Not bored. There's a difference." He checked his pocket watch. "Is it time for your breathing exercises?"

"I suppose," Scarlett agreed. Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she let them slide into her silk slippers before standing. Leo stood as well, following her to the middle of the room.

"How do you feel today?" he asked.

"Quite well." Scarlett had only had very minor breathing problems since her attack last week. She hated to admit that perhaps Dr. Abbott had been correct in his assumption that her lifestyle was worsening her condition. Scarlett had been so determined not to let herself be affected by the illness or by everything that life had thrown at her, that she never allowed herself to breathe.

Her body—and mind—had been fatigued, easily exhausted by the smallest of things.

She needed to take a break from the nightly and daily social events and the consistent, sometimes grueling, writing pace of Mischief in Mayfair.

So now, Scarlett was only focused on the breath of air, the beating of her heart, the ease of her mind. Slowly, she would build herself to be strong in a different way than she'd been before.

Placing a hand on her stomach, Scarlett inhaled, low and deep until she felt her palm extend with her breath. It was like she was stretching herself inside, making room for more air every time she did it.

It felt good. She was still taking the laudanum but tried to limit it to when her chest felt a little tight in the morning.

Glancing over at Leo, Scarlett couldn't resist a smile. If he was here, he always did the exercises with her.

When they finished, Leo turned to face her. "I must call on my mother this afternoon to discuss the wedding. There's something I want to ask her...and you."

Scarlett tilted her head to the side. "What is it?"

Leo breathed in and out quickly. He grabbed her hands, enveloping them in his. "Maverick."

"What of him?"

"I was hoping we could have a small ceremony...so he might be able to attend. Just those closest to us who already know of him."

"Of course, Leo. Did you think I would care about that?" she replied, peering at him.

"Well, it isn't only that." Leo shifted on his feet, making Scarlett curious. The uncertainty he was displaying was just another example of the complex person that was beneath his charisma. Leo might not realize it, but he shielded himself with a mask just as much as Scarlett did. The difference was that Leo chose to camouflage himself with humor and flirtations.

"One day," Leo began, "there might come a time where my parents are no longer able to care for Maverick. And I'm not a fool in thinking that my brother will be independent enough to live on his own. But I wouldn't wish to send him away to an institution or another's home."

"I wouldn't wish that either," Scarlett said.

"He might need to live with us." Leo peeked at her with a timid expression. Then he rushed on to say, "I probably should have mentioned this before I asked you to marry me. I know that it is—"

"Leo." Scarlett silenced him with a finger over his lips. "You needn't fret so. Of course, that is fine. I know how important your brother is to you."

Relief and gratitude flashed across his features, and Scarlett realized that he'd been genuinely apprehensive. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to its palm.

"Thanks, darling."

Their eyes connected, and Scarlett smiled. It was a slow, simmering grin that reflected the way she felt whenever Leo looked at her like he was doing now.

He groaned. "Are you certain you won't come stay with me until the wedding?" he pleaded.

Once Scarlett had heard about what Lord Humphries attempted, she began making arrangements to leave Humphries House immediately. She wanted no ties at all with that man. But her and Leo's wedding was still several weeks away.

So Scarlett had made a plan. And her betrothed was not very happy about it.

Leo pinned her with his heated gaze. His finger trailed along her jawline. "I promise I'll be good."

A throaty laugh escaped from her. "You know it isn't that, Leo."

It wasn't that at all. Scarlett had tried to lure Leo into bed on more than one occasion since he'd been keeping her company in her room, but he was steadfast in his refusal to risk her health. It was heartwarming and utterly annoying.

"I'd just like to keep a little sense of decorum," she tried to explain.

"Scarlett, I have been calling upon you in your bedroom every day this week. And you have slept in my bed before." He circled his arm around her waist, wrenching her to his chest. Leaning forward, his breath wafted against her ear, teasing her like he loved to do. "Actually, you did more than sleep in my bed. You rode me into paradise, darling. I rather think decorum and etiquette are out the window, don't you?"

The virility he was exuding had Scarlett rethinking her entire plan. But if she was ever going to survive marriage to Leo, she needed to learn how to pull away when he tried to overtake her with desire.

"Just humor me," she whispered in his ear." Please."

Leo pulled back, kissing her forehead. "Yes, alright. But it is rather unfair that you, Emilia, and Will should get to all be together, and I shall be left to wither away by myself."

Scarlett laughed. "I'm certain that they will allow you to visit. I thought you practically lived there anyway. Besides, you are acting as though it will be months before we wed. It will only be one, Leo. One month."

"...is a very long time."

"You'll survive," she assured him.

"I certainly hope so," he muttered to himself. "It would seem that I need to make the most of my time now, then. While I have you here alone."

"What do you me—"

Leo's lips pressed against hers in explanation of what he meant, kissing her fiercely at first. Then, almost as if he forced himself to do so, Leo abruptly changed the kiss into the gentlest of caresses, sweeping his lips across hers, gliding his tongue along the seem of her mouth.

She opened for him, flicking her own tongue against his. He groaned, and the sensation sent shivers straight to Scarlett's core. Leo dove deeper, kissing her possessively until he broke away from her mouth altogether. With a smile, he began peppering little kisses along her jawline until he met her ear.

He nibbled on her earlobe for a moment. "God, I love kissing you."

It was then that Scarlett realized that a month was, indeed, a very long time.

****

A week later, Leo waltzed up Will and Emilia's Mayfair mansion. His steps were light, and his mind at ease for the first time in a long time.

His mother had relented on the topic of a small ceremony. His father was beside himself that Leo was getting married at all. Lord Humphries would be leaving the shores of England soon. And Scarlett was finally out of that man's home.

Yes, it was a good day indeed.

Humphries House was in Scarlett's past, and soon so would the name. It was only a matter of weeks before she would be Lady Farrington.

"Ah, Leo," Will said, opening the door.

"You've stashed my bride at your house," Leo said dryly. "I'm here to see her."

"She is not the first bride that's been stashed in a residence of mine," Will retorted. "But believe me, it isn't my doing."

"Does her presence displease you?" Leo raised his brow.

Will looked to the ceiling, no doubt trying to find patience enough to deal with his best friend. Leo suppressed a grin. "Of course not," Will said. "Scarlett is a wonderful guest. But I know full well that you will be over here brooding every day."

"Well, I find it rather unfair that you are allowed unlimited access to my future wife."

"Call it divine retribution for all the times you've flirted with my wife." Will stroked his chin dramatically. "I shall have to repay the favor while Scarlett's here."

Leo glowered at that remark, and Will broke out in laughter.

"Settle, mate. As if I would do that," he said, smiling. "Even if it would serve you right."

Deciding he'd had enough of his cheeky friend, Leo brushed his way past Will in search of Scarlett.

He didn't have to look long, however, because she was standing directly behind Will, struggling to contain her laughter.

"Look at your face," she teased, leaning into him. "You're utterly ridiculous sometimes, did you know that?"

"I do hope that's a good thing," Leo grumbled. But soon, his scowl broke into a smile. Scarlett was here; she was his.

She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his ear. "It's the very best of things."