"Lord F, how do you get a girl to like you?"

Leo glanced up to see Langdon stroll into the Aston Manor library, plopping himself into a leather armchair. Leo sighed, setting down the papers he'd been reviewing for the upcoming parliamentary sessions.

"Langdon, you're too young to concern yourself with ladies."

"Am not," Langdon retorted, folding his arms across his front. "I'm nearly twelve." Pushing his chest out with some kind of childish pride, Langdon gave a defiant smirk. "And Miss Mary smiles at me whenever I see her at church, mind you."

Leo couldn't help but chuckle. "And how old is this Miss Mary?"

"Well, she's nearing fourteen herself. She wears the prettiest ribbons."

He raised a brow at the youngster. "Going for the older girls, are you?"

Langdon gave a dramatic sigh. "The heart wants what it wants, Lord F."

Shaking his head with a smile, Leo agreed. "It sure does, kid."

Christ, didn't Leo know that to be true. The past few days since Scarlett had walked away had been a disastrous demonstration of his heart slowly killing him for not attaining what it had wanted. He still wasn't sure what to believe about everything that had happened. Scarlett had yelled at him to forget her and stop thinking about it, but he couldn't.

She was naive if she thought Leo had any control over his thoughts when they came to her.

At least Langdon always managed to lighten Leo's heart. He always had.

Langdon's father was a friendly, Irish-born man who owned the apothecary near the Aston family estate in Cornwall. About three years ago, Langdon and his father had called upon the Aston estate to offer some remedies for a chest cold that Lady Aston had come down with. During the visit, Maverick had wandered into the receiving room, and Langdon's face had lit up, immediately going over to say hello to the other boy.

Leo had never seen anyone respond to Maverick with so little judgment before. Langdon hadn't cared that Mav looked or spoke differently; he'd just been happy to have another boy around to play with.

That summer, the two boys had grown close, chasing each other around on the rocky shores of southern England. Langdon's cheeky Irish accent had echoed through the hallways of the estate, bringing some liveliness to their family. When it had been time to return to London for the season, Lady Aston announced Langdon was welcome to visit whenever and for however long.

Ever since then, Langdon's father would come to London every month or so to replenish his stock. He'd drop his son off to stay at the Aston residence for weeks at a time; Langdon would live here until the next time his father made the journey to London.

Langdon's parents never minded. While at Aston Manor, Langdon received the finest tutoring, not to mention anything else the boy should want.

"So," Langdon said, drawing the word out. He leaned forward expectantly, propping his elbows on the armrests of the chair. "What should I do?"

"God, Langdon, you're asking the wrong man at the wrong time."

"I always thought you was popular with the ladies, Lord F." Langdon cocked his head to the side in open contemplation.

"You were," Leo corrected.

"What?" Langdon tilted his head to the other side.

"I always thought you were popular with the ladies," Leo repeated.

"Why, I always thought I was too!" Langdon exclaimed, but his sly smile told Leo that he knew precisely what Leo had been trying to say. "But I still don't know what to say to Miss Mary."

Leo dragged a hand down his face but laughed despite himself. "Give her compliments," he said finally. "Girls always appreciate a compliment."

Langdon sucked in his lip, chewing on it as he thought long and hard on Leo's advice. "What about this, Lord F?" He sat straight up and cleared his throat. "Miss Mary, your eyes are like the summer sky."

Laughing lightly, Leo nodded. "Just like that, L. You'll get all the little ladies in no time."

Langdon gave a sheepish little smile. "I only want for Miss Mary to like me."

Standing, Leo crossed the room to tousle the boy's hair. Then he gave him a pat on the shoulder. "I don't think you'll have too much to worry about there."

"Thanks!" The boy's smile grew, stretching across his handsome, young face. Then he leaned forward conspiratorially. "You can use the line on Lady Penelope tonight if you'd like."

"Lady Penelope?" Leo frowned.

"Yes, of course. I heard that she is coming for dinner with her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Warwick."

Leo's frown deepened. "Why don't you go run along and find Mav, Langdon. I need to go speak with my father."

Langdon grimaced, seeming to know what he'd just done.

"It's fine, Langdon. Run along," Leo repeated.

The young boy shook his head. "Maverick is still in his lessons. I was told me to come wait here as I was distracting him."

That didn't surprise Leo at all. "Very well. Think of some more compliments for your little Miss Mary while I'm gone."

Langdon seemed enthused about that as Leo left him to go search out his father. Leo wanted to know why he hadn't been informed about this evening's dinner plans, though he had an inkling of the reason.

Lord Aston was in his study, as usual, his head bent over his bookkeeping. Leo propped himself against the door frame, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

"The Duke of Warwick?" he asked softly.

Lord Aston's head shot up, doubtless startled by Leo's quiet approach. He flashed a hesitant smile.

"Who told you?"

"Langdon."

Leo's father shook his head, but a small smile lingered on his lips. "Damn that boy. How he even finds out about such things is beyond me."

"He befriends all the servants," Leo pointed out.

His father nodded. "True."

"I can only assume that you didn't tell me because you meant to ambush me. I can also only assume as to the meaning of this dinner since they are bringing Lady Penelope."

Lord Aston paused, appearing to consider his approach. "Lady Penelope would be an excellent match, Leo."

"Father," Leo groaned. "I thought you didn't care about who I married or about excellent matches."

"I don't. What I mean to say is that Lady Penelope would be an excellent match for you."

"And why is that?" Leo shot back.

Lord Aston set his spectacles down on the table and ran his fingers through his silver-blonde hair once. "I hear she's wicked smart, charming, and not bad on the eyes."

"I'm not interested, father," Leo said immediately.

"Why not?" his father cried.

Leo just stood there, not responding. He didn't know how to explain that he was in love with someone else.

"Just please come to dinner. It is the least you can do since you left the ball last week without entertaining any prospects."

"I danced," Leo retorted.

His father scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You danced with one debutante, and I reckon you don't even recall her name."

Leo opened his mouth to prove his father wrong, but then the man interrupted him, his eyes narrowing.

"Where did you go, anyway? I tried to pry it out of Trotten, but the viscount wouldn't divulge your secrets."

"I went home," Leo said, truthfully. He had a feeling that his father already knew precisely what had occurred, despite not getting any information out of Will. Rumors about Leo and Scarlett had been circling the ton for some time—ever since that night at the opera. And Lord Aston wasn't dumb. But Leo didn't have the energy to discuss Scarlett at the moment.

He sighed. "I'll attend dinner this evening, father." Agreeing to the man's scheming was one way to end the line of questions that would have surely ensued otherwise.

"Splendid." His father sat back, smiling. "They should be here at eight o'clock sharp. Do be on your best manners, Leo."

"I find that ladies do not always prefer my best manners," Leo argued. He tried to tame a smirk but failed miserably.

A stony glare met his remark. "Best. Manners. Leo."

Leo chuckled and then spun away. There was truth to the fact that he owed his parents a cordial dinner. And perhaps it would get his mind off of Scarlett for a few hours. But that didn't mean he had to be excited about it.