↫Mischief in Mayfair↬

Don Giovanni is premiering at the opera tonight, so perhaps it is the perfect opportunity to highlight the seducers and rakes among us. Lord Hawthorne, for example, was last seen at the Bennett ball. He was chasing the poor Lady Penelope around for the entire evening, barely giving her the time to even stop for a glass of cider. How is it that such gentlemen cannot catch the signs of an intentionally elusive maiden?

-Madame Mischief

For the first time in her life, Scarlett was definitely not enjoying her time at the opera. The melodies, the lyrics, the stories...they were all escaping her this evening. She wasn't sure how to connect to the music when her thoughts continuously strayed toward the man sitting beside her. Scarlett knew she shouldn't be distracted considering he wasn't actually doing anything, but his presence was annoying enough.

As always, Leo was an incorrigible flirt this evening, his usual ways holding true as he carried on banter with Emilia and Adelaide. Honestly, he should have a higher sense of decorum in the presence of the Queen of England, even if the woman was relatively relaxed for a monarch. The man should be downright embarrassed.

Scarlett shook her head before refocusing on the singers on stage. It was nearing the end of the first act, and Scarlett had lost count of the women that Don Giovanni had attempted to seduce. The music was beautiful, but the leading man was nothing more than a pompous idiot.

Only paying half attention, Scarlett jumped at the loud crash that rose from the orchestra, timed perfectly with Don Ottavio pulling his sword on Don Giovanni. He narrowly missed the man as he jutted the presumably fake weapon forward.

Scarlett was even more startled to find that a warm hand was now enveloping her own gloved fingers. Glancing down, Scarlett watched in fascination as Leo rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand in soothing circles. Such an inappropriate gesture, one she should surely yank herself away from, but Scarlett found she could not move.

Checking to her right, Leo sat idly, watching the opera whilst casually holding her hand. He continued to trace lazy circles across her glove-covered flesh.

Well, now Scarlett really could not focus on the opera. She became preoccupied with the internal dilemma of what to do with Leo's hand. It should not be this complicated. All that was required was to break his grasp. But the last time anyone had shown her this kind of offhand affection was...well, never.

No, Scarlett scolded herself firmly. That was precisely what she had thought when Leo called on her the morning after her asthma attack, and then she'd learned he hadn't been there for mere concern or affection after all. The reminder spurred Scarlett into action, and she pulled her hand quickly from Leo's grasp.

She could not be certain if he paid the rebuke any attention. Scarlett kept her eyes and ears firmly trained on the stage. The notes and the bellowing Italian lyrics threatened to tip over the edge of a grand crescendo. The beat of the music matched the sudden pounding of her heart. But all too soon, it broke off, the music coming to a full stop as the curtains dropped to meet the smooth, wooden floors.

The act was over. Of the play, that is.

Scarlett's act would never end.

She quickly excused herself as soon as it became appropriate to do so, slipping past Addie and Theo and through the curtained doorway. She didn't bother checking to see if Leo was following. Or even watching.

Walking through the throngs of people who were similarly flooding the corridor, Scarlet attempted to make it to the powder room before a whole horde of other women did. She was only paces away from her destination when a hand grabbed her elbow.

"Honestly, my lord, you really need—"

Her words died away as she turned to see that it was not Leo holding her arm like she had assumed, but rather it was Lord Symons.

"My lady," he said, looking down at her. "I merely wanted a word with you, if you may."

Scarlett took an instinctive step backward, but her back hit the wall that was just around the corner from the powder room. Symons had forced her to retreat into a darkened nook.

The baron was not an attractive man, and the crooked grin he gave her only highlighted that. But he was much taller and larger than Scarlett and considerably wealthier. And, of course, a man. So, therefore, Lord Symon supposed that he had influence over Scarlett. He did not. Though, he needn't realize that.

"A single word or several, my lord?" She flashed him a convincing smile.

Lord Symons burst out in laughter that was truly unwarranted for what she had said. Scarlett's lips curled upward in a grimace, finding his reaction irritating. Not to mention producing of a smell most unwelcome.

"Several, of course, Lady Humphries," he replied as soon as his chortling had ceased.

"I am all ears, Lord Symons," Scarlett said reluctantly.

"How lucky you were to score a seat in Her Majesty's box," he said, and Scarlett detected the slight sneer in his voice.

"Yes," she replied smoothly. "It was quite an honor to be invited by Queen Adelaide."

Symons paused, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Yes, an honor, indeed."

"Indeed. Now, if you would excuse me." Scarlett gave a perfunctory nod and then made to move past Symons, but he blocked her.

"You look beautiful tonight, Lady Humphries." His beady little eyes flicked down her body and then back up again, fixing Scarlett with an interested look. "I was watching you, you know. And you didn't appear entirely comfortable in those box seats. That isn't really what you want...is it Lady Humphries?"

Scarlett immediately understood that they weren't talking about the seats themselves, but rather who was in them. Mainly who was in the seat right next to her.

"Farrington isn't really your type, my dear," Lord Symons added, confirming what she had suspected.

"And I suppose you are?" Scarlett cut in directly.

Lord Symons laughed, and once again, it was far too hearty for the comment. Scarlett did not even bother to curl the corners of her mouth this time.

"I am merely saying that I would love for you to accompany me to a performance sometime," Lord Symons continued. "I do believe it would be an entirely different experience." One eyebrow rose on his bloated face, and the audacity of it seemed to mock Scarlett.

She didn't doubt that any time spent in the company of Lord Symons would be an entirely different experience, but it was also one that she didn't care to have.

"How kind of you to think of me, my lord. However, I am quite booked with regard to social engagements. I have quite a few...stuffy acquaintances who have already sent invitations for upcoming events."

Another eyebrow joined the one that was already lifted upon Symons' forehead. "Is that so, my lady?" he murmured.

Scarlett opened her mouth to send another rebuke, but another voice cut in. "I'm certain that anything the lady has said holds true, Symons."

Leo stood to their left. His face was half-covered in shadow, masking the geniality he typically paraded. His blonde locks were shaded darker, and his blue eyes seemed to be the only thing shining brightly in the hidden nook that had enveloped them.

But his eyes were only bright in the way that they were alive and calculating and sharp. They weren't kind. And they weren't looking at Scarlett.

Lord Symon's back seemed to straighten as he turned toward Leo. "Farrington." He nodded. "Do not give me that look. You've had all evening to entertain the lady. I'm merely passing along my regards before the next act."

"It appears they've been passed, alright," Leo said, his words clipped. "And now you should pass as well. It doesn't become a man to lurk about near powder rooms."

Lord Symons scowled but surprisingly didn't argue with Leo. He gave a tight nod to both of them before retreating from the space, stalking off down the corridor. Scarlett watched him walk away for a moment, thankful to see the back of him instead of that leering, crooked smile.

"You shouldn't have left so suddenly," Leo scolded then. Scarlett's gaze shifted back toward him. He had relaxed slightly, his body leaning against the wall. But his eyes remained unchanged from a moment earlier. "I could have accompanied you, and we could have avoided that."

Scarlett did not enjoy being handled like she was a child when she had been living on her own for the last several years. "I am quite adept at handling the rogue gentleman, Lord Farrington. I do not require your supervision."

Leo frowned a little. "Is that so?"

"Was it not you who just said that you were certain that anything the lady—the lady being me—says should hold true? Why do you question me, my lord? I've been dealing with a rogue gentleman all night, after all."

Standing up from the wall, Leo's frown deepened. "Has someone else been bothering you this evening?"

Scarlett couldn't help but laugh then. "Yes, quite," she breathed through a final deep chuckle.

A dawning expression came over Leo's face, and he grinned slightly. "It's me, isn't it?"

"Yes, quite," she repeated.

"Come now, Scarlett." Leo took a step closer to her, and Scarlett realized that the corridor behind him was empty. Everyone must be back in their seats by now, though she had yet to hear any music escaping into the hallway. "I have been on my best behavior tonight, I think," Leo said.

Scarlett shook her head, though she couldn't help but smile just a little. "If this is your best behavior, I cannot imagine what your worst is."

Leo's eyelids fluttered and then lowered slightly, and the effect was a hooded, darkened gaze. "I think you should try," he murmured.

"What?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, and Scarlett's eyes couldn't help but dart there—to the place where two perfectly curved lips met in a smirk that was meant to ignite her.

It was working.

"Try to imagine my worst behavior," Leo continued. "I'd reckon you'd rather like it."

Her mouth dropped open, if only slightly, staring as Leo's playful grin grew wider. His eyes remained squarely on her face, likely enjoying her reaction. It took her a few moments, but she eventually snapped out of the trance he had placed on her.

"I told you, Lord Farrington. I am not other women, and your flirtations will not work on me," she shot at him, hoping she sounded convincing. She needed to sound convincing. Because she didn't feel it.

"That remains to be seen," Leo said, raising a brow. But for the most part, he appeared otherwise unsurprised. He merely offered her a hand. "May I escort you back to our seats? Or do you still require the powder room? I do believe I hear the soft chords of the opening number. I shouldn't wish for you to miss any of Don Giovanni's dramatics."

Scarlett shook her head and took his arm, and they began strolling through the corridor as if their little exchange hadn't even occurred. "I love the music in this performance, but the character of Don Giovanni is an arrogant libertine, flirting his way through Europe." With a laugh to herself, she twisted to look up at Leo, adding, "Why, it is you, Lord Farrington!"

Leo chuckled as well, but he shook his head. "I daresay that is not an attractive comparison, my lady. I am not nearly as bad as such a character."

"Likely, you are correct." But then Scarlett looked away from him and muttered, "But that remains to be seen."