She frowned, her eyes searching his.

“Have I done something to upset you?” she asked, with no hint of censure in her voice. “Is it because I came up here to speak to you? You should not be surprised at such a thing, Lord Michael. We are quite safe, I assure you. No one will comment since we are in full public view.”

Jonathan felt his hackles rise. “No, you would not wish to be caught in a fracas with me, would you? Not if it meant that you would be forced into matrimony.”

Much to his surprise, a laugh escaped from her lips. “Forced into matrimony? Whatever are you talking about, Lord Michael? I would never be forced into anything.”

Worried that he might say something out of turn were he to speak, Jonathan turned on his heel and stormed along the balcony, in an attempt to leave Miss Richards behind. He did not want to remain in her company, not when he could not trust himself to speak. What he had witnessed had cut him deeply, and for her to now stand before him and laugh at something he said, it was almost too much to bear.

“Lord Michael!” Miss Richards exclaimed, hurrying after him. “I will not be put off! You must tell me what it is I have done to upset you.”

Desperate to escape from her until his thoughts became a little more settled, Jonathan turned into the first door he saw, making to close it behind him.

Unfortunately, Miss Richards was a little too quick, and in a moment, he discovered that he was even more trapped than he had been before.

“You should not be here, Miss Richards,” Jonathan grated, unable to look at her. “Your brother will be looking for you.”

“No, he will not,” came her soft voice, as she stepped towards him. “Please, tell me what troubles you. I do not understand.”

Unable to bear it any longer, Jonathan swung around to face her, anger and pain shooting through him. He took her in, seeing her confused expression, her wide eyes, her pale cheeks. Evidently, she was unaware of what he had seen.

The urge to know whether or not she had any kind of feelings for him began to rise. In playing the part of Lord Michael, he had to be the second son, the one who would never have the wealth and title that the eldest son would one day inherit.

“You have been nothing but kind to me, Miss Richards,” he began, moving closer to her. “You have made me smile, made me laugh, and surprised me with your lack of willingness to conform to society’s standards.”

“I find them to be ridiculous at times,” she breathed, taking a step away from him as though he were rather an intimidating figure. “But that has never upset you before?”

A harsh laugh escaped him. “No, it has not. I have found it refreshing, to say the least. It has been a light in what I find to be an often-miserable situation.” He looked at her steadily, his lip curling. “And yet I discover that you are more inclined towards the things that most other young ladies seek.”

Her expression grew puzzled, and she let out a long breath, a deep frown creasing her forehead. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought you cared for me,” Jonathan whispered, his hands curling into fists. “I thought there might be something between us.”

A slow flush crept up her neck and, for the first time, she looked away from him, dropping her head.

“I have struggled with my own heart,” Jonathan continued, his voice growing hoarse as emotions of every kind coursed through him. “I have tried not to think of you, tried not to seek you out the moment I attend any kind of function, and yet it has all been for naught. When I called on you, it was one of the happiest afternoons I have spent in a long time.”

“Lord Michael,” she whispered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I did not know the depths of your feelings.”

Jonathan clenched his fists, moving forward so swiftly that Miss Richards was forced to move away, stepping back until she was pressed against the wall.

“Nor did I,” he grated, warring against the urgent desire to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, despite what he had seen. “I did not know the truth of it all until I saw you this evening, dancing with all the other gentlemen.”

She blinked up at him, something like understanding in her gaze. “You were jealous?”

“Tell me you feel nothing for me,” Jonathan replied, not answering her question. “Tell me that there is no kind of affection in your heart. Tell me that you do not think of me in the same way I think of you.”

Planting his hands on either side of her head, Jonathan leaned forward, aware that he was too close to her. If anyone discovered them, the scandal could be disastrous. Yet, the closeness made him feel alive, as if he had been holding back everything he felt for this woman. He had to know what she felt for him before he could challenge her with what he had seen. Somehow, he would get the truth.

“I cannot permit myself to feel anything for you, Lord Michael,” she whispered, her lips trembling, as she tried to keep her gaze steady. “You do not understand.”

He snorted in derision. “You cannot permit yourself?” he questioned, pinning her with his firm gaze.

Miss Richards closed her eyes, a single tear landing on her cheek. She was more vulnerable now than he had ever seen her, and yet the anger in his heart would not allow him to feel any kind of compassion.

“I have longed for your company,” she confessed, surprising him by putting her hands on his chest. “But I cannot have anything more than friendship between us, no matter what I feel.”

“You admit to caring for me then?” he asked, his heart filling with both grief and happiness in the same moment.

Her face tipped towards his, honesty shining from her eyes. “Of course, I do, Michael. I just cannot allow myself to feel it, and yet despite my attempts at resilience, my heart will not let you go.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Jonathan had crushed her against him, his lips finding hers. She responded to him at once, her arms twining around his neck. She was everything he had hoped for, warm and soft and sweet. Yet the saltiness of her tears began to mingle with their kiss, making him starkly aware of what he was doing.

He let her go at once, pushing himself away. Taking in her swollen lips, the tears in her eyes, Jonathan shook his head. “I suppose that if I asked you to marry me, you would turn me down in an instant.”

She crumpled in front of him, her arms hugging her waist as she leaned against the wall. “Michael, please do not—”

“I saw you in the ballroom, dancing with your many, many suitors,” Jonathan interrupted, angry with himself for kissing her when he knew it to be a lost cause, angry that he had taken what his heart had desired in that moment. “I know that you will not so much as look at those who will not meet your standards. You are quite determined to marry a man with a title and a great fortune, is that not so?” His voice was louder now, filling the room. He waited, as she wiped at her eyes, seeing just how much she struggled to look at him.

“I cannot marry a man without a good fortune,” she whispered, her cheeks pink with shame. “But please, Lord Michael, if you would just let me explain—”

“There is nothing to explain,” Jonathan interrupted, his heart breaking into small pieces as he spoke. “You are just like all the rest, desperate to make as good a match for yourself as possible. As much as you say you shun society’s ways, I see that you are still willing to do all you can to gain a husband of both wealth and title. You do not care one jot for matters of the heart or for the character of your chosen gentleman.”

She began to cry in earnest, a shadow of the lively young lady he had first met this evening. “Please, I—”

Unwilling to let her give him her excuses, Jonathan made for the door, flinging it open wide. “To think that I had begun to think of asking to court you,” he said over his shoulder. “How glad I am that Lord Taylor warned me about your ways before I completely lost my heart. Good evening, Miss Richards. I doubt we shall meet again.”

He left the door ajar as he strode from the room, ignoring the quiet sobs that followed him along the hallway. He was angry with both Miss Richards and himself, struggling to find a way to express what he felt. He should never have kissed her, but he had found himself desperate to know just what she felt for him. And now, given how she had responded, he had no further need to ask.

Miss Richards did care for him. Mayhap she could have come to love him, had she allowed herself to look past the fortune she thought he carried. But the truth of it was, she would never have allowed herself to give in to her feelings because he was not the kind of gentleman she had decided she would wed. As Lord Michael, he did not have the title nor wealth that she required.

“Just like all the others,” Jonathan spat, hurrying down the stairs and making his way directly to the front door.

Calling for his carriage, Jonathan strode up and down the gravel path, trying to contain his anger and upset. There would be no more of London for him, no more of society and all its wonderful occasions. Lord Michael could remain here for as long as he wished, under the guise of being Marquess Rivenhall, whereas he would be able to return to his estate and never again allow Miss Richards to dog his mind.

His heart was still sore as he climbed into the waiting carriage, urging the coachman to get him home as fast as he could. A sensation of grief rippled through him, bringing tears to his eyes.

Rubbing a hand across his face, Jonathan set his jaw, his eyebrows furrowing. Miss Richards meant nothing to him now, not when he had seen her as she truly was. Once he was back in his estate, he would simply throw himself into his responsibilities there, choosing not to think of her again, not even for a single moment. He had been duped into believing that she might care for him, and he was even beginning to think seriously about courting her.

How grateful he was for Lord Taylor’s advice. It just proved to him that all the eligible young ladies amongst the ton were just as he had thought, and as hard as it was to admit, that included Miss Richards.