Thankfully, Jonathan did not spill any more drinks on any of the other guests, and much to his delight, he managed to acquaint himself with a few gentlemen and plenty of unattached ladies. He even managed to secure himself a few dances, finding that he rather enjoyed the freedom that came from having no particular title to speak of.

“Lord Michael Astor, is it?”

Turning to see a rather tall gentleman peering down at him, Jonathan cleared his throat and nodded, putting a wide smile on his face. “Yes.”

“The second son of the Marquess of Barrington?”

“Yes, that is right,” Jonathan replied easily. “I joined the army, so it has been a rather long time since I was last in London.”

The man nodded, a slight frown on his face. “Viscount Richards,” he said, tilting his head as he stuck out his hand. “We were acquainted a great many years ago, but I confess that I did not recognize you.”

Wondering if Lord Richards would have a sudden jolt of recognition when he saw the true Lord Michael Astor, Jonathan simply shook the man’s hand and tried to keep his smile in place.

“Have you returned to London for the Season?”

“Indeed,” Jonathan replied, with a slight smile. “I am actually thinking about the future, you see.”

“And a man needs a wife,” Lord Richards replied, with a chuckle. “I quite understand.”

Relieved that Lord Richards now appeared to be quite at ease with the idea that he was Michael, Jonathan laughed quietly. “Unfortunately so,” he laughed, shaking his head. “One must settle down eventually, I suppose. And, are you wed since last I saw you?”

Lord Richards shook his head. “No, and although my mother has been constantly suggesting various young ladies that might suit, I find none of them to be particularly interesting, I confess. I have not taken much notice of them.”

“Much to your mother’s delight, I am sure!” Jonathan replied, making Lord Richards shoot him a rueful grin. “But at some point, we must give serious consideration to it, I suppose.”

Shrugging, Lord Richards gave a small snort. “Not unless one chooses to remain a bachelor.”

A little surprised, Jonathan lifted his eyebrows as he regarded Lord Richards. “No heir, then?”

Lord Richards shrugged again. “My sister and mother are all the females I need worry about for the present. Mayhap in time I shall marry in order to produce the required heir, but as yet, I have no inclinations in that direction. And, if I choose to remain a bachelor, I have a very admirable younger brother who already has found himself a wife.”

“Oh?”

Lord Richards chuckled. “I know, it is surprising that I should give such responsibilities to my younger brother, but in short, he would be much better suited to be a viscount than me.”

Choosing not to pursue such a strange conversation, Jonathan cleared his throat. “Did I hear you say you have a sister?”

“Oh yes, but you need not go near her or consider her any kind of suitable bride, I must say,” Lord Richards replied, cheerfully. “Rather a fiery temper on her, if you ask me.”

Jonathan laughed. “And a protective elder brother, it seems.”

“Oh no!” Lord Richards exclaimed at once, holding up his hands in mock protest. “The sooner she is off my hands the better, but she simply will not choose any particular suitor, which I find rather frustrating.”

“And why is that?” Jonathan asked, a swirl of curiosity running through him. “Are we all not of a suitable standard? If that is not too probing of a question?”

Lord Richards did not seem affronted in the least. “I am not altogether sure, I confess. I am not the best at paying attention, given that I have a lot of responsibilities. My estate is undergoing a few renovations whilst we are in London, so I am constantly busy.”

Jonathan nodded, drawing in a long breath. “I can well understand that.”

Frowning, Lord Richards tilted his head just a little. “You have an estate of your own?”

Recalling that he was meant to be Lord Michael, Jonathan cleared his throat a little gruffly, desperately trying to remember what the name of Lord Michael’s estate was.

“Yes, a small one,” he muttered, his eyes roving over the twirling couples on the dance floor. “Renovations can be rather expensive, can they not?”

Lord Richards chuckled. “Indeed, they can be.” He gestured towards one of the couples on the floor, a slightly wry smile on his face. “There is my sister, you see? The one in the yellow gown dancing with that rather rotund gentleman.”

Jonathan frowned as he gazed into the crowd, trying to pick out which woman Lord Richards was talking about.

“Why she is dancing with him, I have very little idea,” Lord Richards continued, shaking his head. “He will not do! Not in the least!”

Jonathan, finally spotting the girl Lord Richards was pointing at, drew in a rather sharp breath.

“Something wrong?” Lord Richards enquired, hearing him. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a bone to pick with that old rogue!”

Giving a slightly wane smile, Jonathan shook his head. “No, not the gentleman but rather the lady—your sister.”

The smile slowly faded from Lord Richard’s face. “What of her?” he asked, his voice a little lower than before. “Tell me she has not been up to anything untoward!”

“No, of course not,” Jonathan replied at once, as Lord Richards let out a breath of relief. “It is just that I have had the pleasure of your sister’s company once already, although I did not know her name.”

“Oh?” Lord Richard murmured, as the dance came to an end. He beckoned his sister over, who—after glancing at Jonathan—frowned heavily, as she walked towards them both.

“I’m afraid I spilled my drink over her gown,” Jonathan murmured, his neck burning with heat, as the rather obvious stain caught his eye. “She was not exactly pleased.”

Lord Richards rumbled with laughter, seeing the way his sister was practically spitting fire as she approached. “I see,” he grinned, slapping Jonathan on the back. “Well, nothing to stop you from being properly acquainted now. I am quite sure it was an accident, no?”

“You!”

She glared at him, steam almost pouring from her ears as her blue eyes blazed with cold fire.

“I do apologize, Miss Richards,” Jonathan said at once, bowing deeply. “I can only hope that this evening has not been ruined by my clumsiness.”

“You seem to have found yourself a partner regardless,” her brother said, calmly. “And what was the poor, unfortunate chap’s name?”

Miss Richards glared at her brother. “Lord Winchester and I found ourselves in rather good company,” she replied, with a slight lift of her chin. “And he is a rather graceful dancer, despite his size.”

“He is much too old for you, Mary!”

Jonathan, feeling as though he was intruding in a private conversation, began to back away, only for Lord Richards to turn his attention back towards him.

“I think Lord Michael Astor has made a rather pretty apology, Mary, and you ought to forgive him. Now, what do you say?”

Recalling that Lord Richards had stated his sister had a somewhat fiery temper, Jonathan held his breath, as the lady turned her eyes back to his, her mouth settling into a rather thin line.

“What was it you were looking at that had you so distracted?” she asked, her forthrightness taking Jonathan a little aback. “You walked directly into me!”

Jonathan swallowed hard, his mind scrambling for a lie with which he might cover his true reason. “I have been out of society for some time,” he said, truthfully enough. “I was merely overwhelmed by it all, I confess.” The truth was that he had caught the real Lord Michael’s eye and had been chuckling to himself over their combined success—not that he could confess such a thing to the lady, who was looking at him with a rather suspicious eye.

“May I say that, regardless of the unfortunate incident, you are still quite lovely, Miss Richards,” he continued, hoping that a compliment might soften her anger towards him. “You shine like a star in the—”

“That is quite enough,” Miss Richards interrupted, swiping the air with her hand so as to cut him off. “Your apology is accepted, so long as you pay the bill for the restoration of my dress.”

“I shall even pay for a brand new dress, if I must,” Jonathan promised, despite Lord Richards mutter of protest. “Again, I am truly sorry, Miss Richards.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes calculating, yet no longer angry. “Very well,” she murmured, her voice soft. “Then shall we dance, Lord Michael? Just to prove to my brother that all is well between us.”

Jonathan was stunned, spluttering some vague answer as Miss Richards waited patiently for his response. A lady did not ask for a gentleman to partner her onto the dance floor, it was simply unheard of. And yet, here was Miss Richards suggesting just that.

“Mary, you cannot be so uncouth,” her brother muttered, rolling his eyes. “I do apologize, Lord Michael. As I said before, my sister is rather an unusual sort.”

“No, no, it is quite all right,” Jonathan managed to say, holding out his arm towards the lady, albeit rather woodenly. “Shall we dance, Miss Richards?”

The next dance was a waltz, and as Jonathan had not had to dance a waltz for some time, he found himself a little nervous.

“You are surprised at me, I think,” Miss Richards said plainly, looking up at him as he placed one hand on her waist. “I know I am rather forward and certainly not what society expects, but I find that I care very little.”

Jonathan felt his mouth go dry, as he looked down at her, surprised that he found himself a little attracted to the lady. Her expression was clear, her eyes bright and gaze firm. There was no hint of guile in her, and instead of being repulsed by her plain speaking, Jonathan found himself rather delighted with it.

“I will say that I am quite surprised,” he replied, as they waited for the music to begin, “but I will also say that I find it rather refreshing.”

She laughed aloud, her smile warming his heart. “Then you are one of the very few gentlemen of my acquaintance who will accept that about me without question,” she replied, with a slight shake of her head. “Mayhap my first impression of you was the wrong one and you are not as foolish as you first appeared.”

Jonathan flushed. “I will do all I can to prove to you that I am not as ridiculous as I seemed,” he promised, unable to tear his gaze away from hers. “Again, I—”

“Apologize, yes, you have said that already,” she murmured, her expression softening. “I do believe, however, that the music has begun, Lord Michael.”

Starting, Jonathan realized that the other couples around him had already begun to waltz. Biting back a groan, he clasped Miss Richards hand a little more firmly, and hoping desperately that he remembered how to waltz, he began to spin her around the floor.