Lord and Lady Sheringham’s ball was rather an opulent affair. They clearly had spared no expense, as it was for their daughter. Jonathan was not in the least surprised. What did make him smile was the way they practically fawned over Lord Michael, believing him to be Lord Rivenhall, whereas he was greeted cordially but then ignored.

Lord Rivenhall was clearly the more important party—and that was only because of the title. Jonathan rolled his eyes as he walked away from the receiving line, leaving Lord Michael behind. How he hated society’s toad-eating ways!

“You are free at last,” he quipped, as Lord Michael came to stand by him. “Now, what are your plans for this evening?”

“The card room, as soon as I can,” Lord Michael chuckled, slapping one hand on Jonathan’s back. “Although I think I must greet Miss Sheringham first. It would be most extraordinarily rude of me if I did not.”

“Indeed, it would,” Jonathan agreed, managing to locate the lady in question almost immediately. “I believe that she is standing just over there, surrounded by a great many gentlemen already.”

Lord Michael shook his head. “Then I will wait until she is a little less cloistered. Considering I am quite unable to dance, it will have to be a conversation or two before I have done my duty.”

“Perhaps then, we might stay on the balcony for a while,” he suggested, beginning to walk along it instead of descending the staircase. “I always find that sitting here does me a world of good.”

Together, they wandered along it for a time before finding a place to sit, a place where they might watch the crowd without being noticed themselves. The balcony was not as well-lit as the ballroom below, which meant that they could observe the guests quite well.

“Oh, do excuse me!”

Jonathan jerked back in surprise, as a young lady scrambled to her feet, her cheeks pink.

“I do apologize,” she breathed, stumbling past him. Unfortunately, she walked directly into Lord Michael, who with his poor leg, toppled backward. The young lady herself only just managed to keep her balance, her hands covering her mouth as she leaned heavily against the wall, staring at Lord Michael with a somewhat horrified expression.

“Goodness me, are you all right, Michael?” Jonathan exclaimed, stepping forward so as to help him to his feet. “That was something of a surprise!”

Lord Michael managed to right himself with a little help from Jonathan, his face bright red with embarrassment.

“I am all right,” he muttered gruffly, as Jonathan helped ease him down into a nearby chair. “Just caught me a bit off guard.”

“I am so terribly sorry,” the lady whispered, her face milk white. “I did not hear you coming and—”

Seeing the worry on her face, Jonathan cleared his throat and tried to smile. “There is nothing to concern yourself over, my dear. You need not worry yourself.”

Finally managing to step away from the wall, the young lady approached Lord Michael and sat down opposite him, her eyes running over his features. “Lord Michael, is it?” she murmured, clasping her hands tightly together. “I am truly sorry, can you ever forgive me?”

“Now, now, there is no need for all that,” Lord Michael replied quickly, smiling at her. “No one saw, other than yourself and Lord Rivenhall here. You need not worry yourself.” He tilted his head and studied her. “Hiding from something, were you?”

Her cheeks dusted with pink. “Something like that,” she replied, looking away. “My name is Miss Carron, and my father is a baron. My father insists that I marry Lord Baxter, but I would prefer not to even be an acquaintance of his.” Her face contorted for a moment, and she glanced away. “I should not be telling you all this, however. I do apologize for my mouth running away with me. Tis only to explain the reason that I am up here alone, hiding in the shadows.”

Lord Michael shook his head and leaned forward, something in his expression catching Jonathan off guard. Lord Michael was evidently quite taken with the lady.

“Do not fear talking to me,” Lord Michael continued, ignoring Jonathan’s presence completely. “I would be glad of your company for a few minutes if you wish. And Lord Rivenhall here will…” He trailed off, looking up at Jonathan with a suddenly horrified expression. Too late did Jonathan feel the jolt of awareness that told him they had both managed to forget entirely about their disguise.

“Oh,” Jonathan mumbled, pushing one hand through his hair. “Well, that is gone and torn it.”

“Torn what?” Miss Carron asked, looking from one to the other. “Have I done something wrong?”

Michael let out a long breath, a rather guilty expression on his face. “I think we might have to take you into our confidence, Miss Carron.”

Shaking his head, Jonathan shot a firm look at his friend. “You are going to have to explain all, Michael.”

“I will,” his friend replied, with a quick smile. “I am quite sure Miss Carron will understand.”

Leaving his friend and Miss Carron to talk, Jonathan moved back towards the balcony rail, thinking it best that only one of them explain the situation to the lady. He heard Miss Carron’s exclamation of surprise and tensed for a moment, wondering if she would hurry past him in a flurry of skirts—only to hear her laugh. His anxiety rolled away, and he allowed himself a long, relieved breath, glad that there would be apparently no need to concern himself over Miss Carron’s discretion.

His eyes roved over the guests for a moment, suddenly alighting on a figure he recognized—Lord Richards. He was busy talking to another gentleman, although it did not appear to be an amicable conversation. The man was frowning heavily, and as the unknown gentleman prodded Lord Richards in the chest, Richards stepped back and shook his finger in the other gentleman’s face. The gentleman laughed mockingly and swung away from Lord Richards, leaving him standing alone.

Jonathan frowned. That was not a particularly pleasant thing to have watched, even though he did not know Lord Richards particularly well. There was clearly more than just his estate renovations on his mind. As he watched, he saw Miss Richards hurry over to her brother, gesticulating wildly at the gentleman who had just left.

Lord Richards attempted to calm her, but she was clearly very upset. Jonathan fought the urge to rush downstairs and join their conversation, demanding to know what had transpired. He did not like seeing Miss Richards so upset, especially when he had no knowledge as to why that might be. Something in him wanted to help her or help her brother if that would lessen her anxiety.

Grasping the balcony rail firmly, Jonathan forced himself to remain in place. Lord Richards had, by this point, put both hands on his sister’s shoulders and was speaking to her quietly. Miss Richards’ shoulders slumped, her head downcast although she nodded in agreement with whatever her brother was saying. Eventually, she looked up at him and gave a small smile, which Lord Richards returned.

Jonathan frowned. Whatever had occurred, there was clearly some difficulty going on. It was not his place to know or to offer his aid, not unless either of them approached him with a request for his assistance, but he could not push away the desire to do so regardless.

Looking away from them, Jonathan tried to seek out the gentleman who had caused Lord Richards so much angst. He soon found him, standing with some other gentlemen and laughing uproariously. He was a tall man, with a rather large waist and a slightly balding head. He had an air of arrogance about him. An instant sense of dislike came over Jonathan, his lip curling as he saw the man gesture towards Lord Richards.

“It is not my business,” he muttered to himself, his gaze now back on Miss Richards. She had left her brother’s side and was now all smiles, chatting amicably with another gentleman. The gentleman offered her his arm, and with a broad smile, Miss Richards accepted at once and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.

Jonathan, ignoring the feeling of jealousy that instantly rushed over him, turned back to Lord Michael and Miss Carron. Much to his surprise, they were chatting together quite happily, as though they had been acquaintances for a rather long period of time.

“And is it all settled?” he asked, moving forward to stand by Lord Michael, who was smiling broadly at Miss Carron. “Are we able to take you into our confidence, Miss Carron?”

Miss Carron, who now appeared to be quite at ease, gave him a wide smile. “Oh yes, Lord Michael has explained everything, and I quite understand. In fact, he has offered to assist me with my father’s demands.”

“Oh?” Jonathan queried, lifting one eyebrow. “In what way?”

Michael grinned, clearly quite delighted with all that had been discussed. “She is to introduce me to her father under my ‘title’. With that title being somewhat higher than Lord Baxter, it is our hope that he might lessen his insistence that Miss Carron place all of her attention on him.”

A flurry of questions ran straight through Jonathan’s mind, but instead of voicing any of them, he simply nodded. He did not want to dampen down the enthusiasm that they each displayed by asking what they intended to do once he and Lord Michael’s ruse came to an end.

“Should you like me to introduce you now?” Miss Carron asked, as Lord Michael rose to his feet. “My father is most likely in conversation with his friends, although they may have made their way to the card room by now.”

Lord Michael grinned, throwing a glance towards Jonathan. “I shall help you search for him then, shall I? Lord Rivenhall, I am quite sure, will need to go and mingle for a time.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes, as Lord Michael chuckled, before turning on his heel, walking down the stairs, and leaving both Lord Michael and Miss Carron to descend together. It was quite clear his friend did not want his company at the present moment, although Jonathan was not in the least offended. All in all, he was quite glad that Michael had found himself such a delightful companion, even if it was under rather strange circumstances.

Walking into the ballroom, Jonathan greeted a few acquaintances, but kept his eyes fixed on the dance floor. Now that he had resigned himself to circulating amongst the other guests, he had one intention only: to find and speak to Miss Richards. Not just because he wanted to ensure that she was quite all right after what he had witnessed, but also because he wanted to speak to her about their meeting only yesterday in the bookshop.

He had sent the book but received no reply. That had been a rather strange encounter, especially with how it had come to a close. She was such a mysterious, confusing creature, and now with the rather upsetting exchange he had seen, Jonathan felt more inclined than ever to further his acquaintance with her.

However, as he moved through the crowd, he could see nothing but skirts, twirling and spinning in every direction. Growing a little frustrated, he found himself a quieter place to stand and wait, believing her to be out on the dance floor with another gentleman.

“Ah, Lord Michael!”

It took Jonathan a moment to recall that he was, in fact, meant to be Lord Michael, taking just a second too long to respond to the gentleman he remembered to be Lord Taylor. They had been introduced some days ago, and from what he recalled, Lord Taylor had been in London for at least two other previous Seasons.

“Ah, yes, Lord Taylor,” he said, stumbling over his words. “Forgive me, I was just—”

“Looking for someone in particular?” Lord Taylor asked, with a slight chuckle. He was a tall, rather gangly, young man, whose bright eyes told Jonathan that he would not miss a single thing. “And who is the lady, pray tell?”

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear entirely nonchalant.

“Come now, you must tell me,” Lord Taylor exclaimed, sounding rather dismayed.

Jonathan chuckled and rolled his eyes. “And yet you shall not get the truth out of me! All I will say is that I had a rather disastrous encounter with Miss Richards. Actually, two disastrous encounters, and I wish to ensure that all is well between us.”

The smile slowly faded from Lord Taylor’s face. “You mean Miss Richards, the sister of Viscount Richards?”

“The very same,” Jonathan agreed, wondering at the slightly guarded expression on Lord Taylor’s face. “Why? Whatever is the matter? Do not tell me that she is already engaged.” He laughed at this, as though the idea did not slice through his heart, bringing nothing but pain with it.

“No, indeed she is not,” Lord Taylor replied, with a lift of his brows. “However, if you have any thoughts of an acquaintance or even an association with the lady, let me be the first to warn you away from that idea.”

Jonathan frowned, his heart slowly sinking. “Why is that?”

“Because, as a second son, you will not be in the least bit interesting to her,” Lord Taylor warned. “She is a social climber, that one. She will do all she can to get herself a rich and well-titled husband, which means that only gentlemen who have gained their title or are heirs to one will get her to notice them.”

“Surely not!” Jonathan scoffed, immediately finding the idea rather difficult to accept. “I can believe that a woman such as she would be warm and as welcoming—”

“Miss Richards is a most unusual sort, that is for certain,” Lord Taylor interrupted, putting one hand on Jonathan’s shoulder so as to stop his tirade. “She is kind and sweet and appears to be rather friendly to all that she meets, but I tell you now that you will not do for her. I tell you this so that you do not lose your heart to her when it will be quite impossible for her to ever return such feelings.”

Jonathan was struck dumb for a moment, entirely at a loss as to what to say. He did not want to believe what Lord Taylor had suggested about Miss Richards, but given that the man most likely knew her better than he did, could he really forget those remarks so easily?

“You see?” Lord Taylor murmured, as the dance came to an end. “There she is dancing with Lord Muskatov. Russian, of course, but both wealthy and with an extravagant title. Practically royalty, or so I have heard! No wonder she wants to dance with him.”

“But why?” Jonathan asked, trying not to let his sudden shock appear evident. “What would be her reasons to marry as well as she can? Her brother is a viscount, so surely that in itself is enough for her to find a good marriage?”

Lord Taylor shrugged, sniffing dismissively. “Do not ask me why, I would say nothing more than wanting to get the best she can for herself.”

Jonathan’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you, Lord Taylor,” he muttered, beginning to turn away.

Lord Taylor shot him a sympathetic look. “I do apologize if I have spoken out of turn, Lord Michael. I just thought it best you be aware of her true character.”

Jonathan lifted his chin and nodded, trying to smile. “Of course. I quite understand. Thank you.”