Before Liars Loved (Before Series, Book 3)

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↫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."