Leo's eyes blinked open to see Scarlett's face hovering above him, a little blurry from the remnants of his bout of sleep.

"Oh good, you're awake," he said, the drowsiness in his voice unmistakable. He propped himself up on his elbows, expecting Scarlett to lean backward as he sat up. But she stayed, leaving only the smallest of spaces between them.

Her face was still passive, surprising Leo. He assumed  she would be outraged by his presence, here, in her bed. But Scarlett merely tilted her head, examining him.

It would seem that they were both curious today.

"What would Lord Farrington be doing in my bed?" Scarlett asked. Her ordinarily crisp, sharp tone was gone, and in its place was a lazy drawl. The effects of the drug hadn't yet worn off.

Scarlett's hand came to rest on Leo's chest, shocking him. At some point in his slumber, Leo remembered getting too warm and stripping his coat and waistcoat off, leaving only his cotton shirt. And now the thin fabric of his shirt was the only thing between his bare chest and Scarlett's touch.

She suddenly pushed at his chest, forcing him to flop back onto the bed. All of the air left Leo's body. Not from the force of her push, but from the sheer thrill that coursed through him at the action.

Scarlett smirked a little but didn't move, looking down at Leo expectantly.

Leo tried not to think about how much he enjoyed the position he was in. He sighed, resigning himself back to logic and reason. "I meant to keep an eye on you while you were...sedated. You had passed out downstairs in a chair, and I doubted you could even breathe with the way you were slouched over. So I brought you to your chambers."

She rolled her eyes. How extraordinarily unladylike. "I do not slouch."

"You do when you've taken too much laudanum."

Scarlett's brows furrowed for a moment before they cleared. "And how, precisely, were you keeping an eye on me whilst you were sleeping as well?"

Leo chuckled, putting his hands behind his head casually. "That was unintentional, I will admit."

Her hair was falling around her face in a delightfully mussed look. Leo yearned to reach forward and touch her, even if in the most innocent of ways. He wanted to tuck that loose hair behind her ear and caress her face, although it was exceedingly pale. Leo frowned. She should really lie back down.

"If you were tired, you could have just left," Scarlett pointed out.

"Oh no, darling. I have too many questions for you."

Her eyes fluttered closed as if exhausted by the idea.

"But I can tell that the laudanum still has its hold on you," Leo added quietly. "And the questions can wait. You rest some more."

Scarlett eyed him suspiciously. "This is highly improper."

"It took you so long to mention it that I am starting to doubt if you really care," Leo teased, but then his expression softened when he added, "Scarlett, rest. I shall get up from the bed and give you space."

With a deep breath, she obeyed, lying back on the bed.

"Good," Scarlett mumbled as she turned over on her side, away from Leo. "I do not trust you."

The words were so soft that Leo almost didn't hear, but he did.

Leo sucked in a breath. "You do not trust me?"

No response came.

"Scarlett?"

No reply.

Leo wasn't sure if she had already fallen asleep or if she were merely refusing to speak, but he was left alone with silence and hurt.

****

Scarlett woke with a headache that reeked of irony.

The laudanum—most often used to dispell pain—tended to bring only that to Scarlett. And it added to the discomfort she felt from lying about in her stiff corset. She longed to rip it off and hide beneath her bed covers.

But she couldn't, not now.

She had company.

Scarlett twisted around on the bed, looking for Leo. Everything from their earlier conversation was a little hazy, a little unclear, but she remembered he was here. Exactly why he was here, she could not say.

Leo sat in the corner, leaning back in an armchair with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was one of irritation and something akin to pain. Scarlett scowled. If he was so uncomfortable, he could have left. She was perfectly fine; this wasn't the first time she'd taken a tad too much laudanum and fainted from the drug. His help certainly was not required.

"How do you feel?" he asked tightly.

"Fine," Scarlett said, her voice equally strained.

Leo gave a perfunctory nod. "Then I might as well begin."

"Begin?" Scarlett swung her feet over the bed, so she could sit. Her headache only worsened. But she ignored that and attempted to smooth her hair, though she realized it was likely a lost cause at this point.

"Yes, begin. I have questions for you, Scarlett."

She rubbed her forehead, exasperated by this man. "I do not have any answers for you, Leo."

He ignored her response. "Why are you taking laudanum?"

"I do not have to tell you anything, Leo," she repeated.

"Why?" Leo shot back. "Because you do not trust me?" His eyes flashed, bright and blue, meeting Scarlett's wide gaze.

Their earlier conversation was coming back to her in waves, how she had let her guard down just a little too far. How the drug had loosened her tongue.

"Why?" Leo repeated.

As the pain in her head began to drive her to madness, Scarlett resisted the urge to simply tell him. She wanted to yell at Leo that she knew. She knew he was only pretending to care for the sake of a gentlemen's bet. Scarlett wanted to scream because it drove her mad that even though she knew what Leo was doing, she couldn't help the way he made her feel when he looked at her.

But Leo couldn't know that Scarlett was in on their little bet. He would ruin everything for her and Damien. So Scarlett shook off her feelings toward Leo. "Whatever do you mean? Of course, I trust you."

Leo raised an eyebrow, and she knew he didn't believe her.

"When I said that before falling asleep, I was only teasing about your...devilish ways, Leo. My own Don Giovanni and all that."

Scarlett waved a hand to try to brush it off—make it seem as though it was something rather lacking in importance.

Leo still appeared unconvinced. Scarlett wished to walk over toward him, but she was afraid that she'd still be too unsteady on her feet.

"If you trust me, then talk to me, Scarlett. Tell me about the laudanum."

"I merely had head pain this morning."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "Your maid informed me that you take laudanum every morning."

"She must have misspoken. It is nothing, Leo."

"If you do not wish to answer me that, Scarlett, then tell me why you wrote that article about yourself this morning."

Scarlett blew out a sigh of relief at a question she could answer.

"Well, that is a rather easy answer, my lord. If I never wrote about myself, people would certainly begin to notice. Especially after something like yesterday evening."

Leo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He hadn't yet donned his waistcoat, and Scarlett stared at his plain shirt—at the place where she had placed her hand earlier, feeling the beat of his heart beneath her touch. It was embarrassingly intimate, and she cursed herself and her medicine.

"You can write about yourself without being so callous with your remarks, Scarlett," he said lowly.

"It is a gossip column, Leo. People read it for the callous remarks."

"Well, I didn't like it," Leo grumbled, leaning back again and looking away from her.

"Why do you care?" Scarlett scoffed. "Are you afraid of your own reputation? That it will be tarnished by association?"

"You forget I'm a man. It doesn't work like that, my dear." Leo actually dared to roll his eyes, and Scarlett could have slapped him. But he was right.

"Can we cease this interrogation, Leo?" Scarlett pleaded. "I do not even understand what you're doing here, and I still do not feel well from this morning, I fear. Please leave. I try to keep from having visitors call upon me in my bedchamber."

That seemed to capture Leo's attention.

"Oh, really?"

Silence stretched between them. Scarlett had nothing she could say to that. Leo believed that she'd had more than a few gentlemen in her bedchamber, and her words had just contradicted that.

"You constantly confuse me, Scarlett," Leo said, standing.

He strode to the door, pausing just for a moment in its opening. He looked back at her. "I don't know what to believe."

And then he was gone.

Scarlett glanced at her ungloved hands, sighing deeply.

"Neither do I," she whispered.