11
“Now,” Jonathan said, the moment the maid set out the tea trays for them. “I have spoken to my staff, and I can promise you both that nothing shall be said about your presence here, Miss Carron. Although, given that it is the late afternoon, I do not think that many people would be surprised that you are calling.”
“Calling unaccompanied,” Michael reminded him, with a lift of his eyebrows. “I happened to meet Miss Carron and her friend in Hyde Park. We had a moment together, and she was able to tell me her distressing news. I knew I had to act.”
“We wandered the paths of Hyde Park for some time, far away from the fashionable set,” Miss Carron interjected, her voice rather wispy. “Then Michael hailed a hackney, and we came here.”
“I do not think anyone has come in search of her yet,” Michael continued, frowning heavily. “However, I do not think it will be long.”
Miss Carron bit her lip, her eyes worried. “My father will have noticed my absence, I am quite sure. I said I would only be gone an hour.”
Jonathan nodded and tried to smile at the lady reassuringly. “I am quite sure you will be safe here. Should your father come knocking, intending to search the house, I have a few places you can hide. Not that I expect he will go from room to room in search of you.”
“Then you underestimate my father,” Miss Carron replied softly. “He intends for me to do exactly as he wishes.”
Recalling that Lord Michael had mentioned something about distressing news, Jonathan turned his attention back to his friend. “Now, what was this news you found to be so upsetting?”
Lord Michael’s eyes widened. “Oh, of course. I quite forgot you did not know.” He leaned forward, his voice low. “Miss Carron’s father has put an engagement notice in the paper.”
“To Lord Baxter,” Miss Carron replied with a small sob.
Jonathan frowned, a little concerned that their plan had not gone as well as he had expected. “But I thought that if Michael continued to pretend to be me, then your father would change his mind about Lord Baxter.”
“I hoped he would,” she replied, her voice heavy with emotion. “He has not, unfortunately. When I questioned my father about his choice, mentioning that Lord Rivenhall had asked to court me, he told me that I am to be used as payment of a debt. A long-standing debt, I believe. Instead of the debt being paid with coin—which my father has rather little of at the moment—I am to be given its place.”
“It is truly sickening,” Michael said softly, taking her hand. “I know that Lord Rivenhall will understand your plight.”
Utterly disgusted at the idea of a lady being used as something to be bought and sold, as well as being wed to man about the same age as her own father, Jonathan shook his head. “I shall never understand the ways of such men. They have no compassion for anyone, caring solely for themselves.” He looked at Miss Carron and saw the worry in her eyes, as though afraid he might throw her from his house. “I will do all I can to help you.”
Miss Carron’s eyes filled with tears, and as they began to flow down her cheeks, Michael handed her his handkerchief and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
“Oh, thank you, Lord Rivenhall,” she sobbed, her tears flowing every faster. “Michael said we could rely on you.”
Jonathan made to answer, only for the door to fly open at that very moment, crashing into the wall.
Starting with surprise, he turned to see none other than Miss Richards, letter in hand, storming into the room, her face red. The butler came immediately behind, apologizing loudly, but Jonathan immediately sent him away. Miss Richards was here for a reason, and it would not do for the butler—or any of his staff—to hear what Miss Richards had to say.
“Miss Richards,” he began, “I—”
“You would not even read it?” she shouted, her eyes wild and blazing with fury. “After kissing me, you refused to even read my letter?”
Jonathan’s mouth fell open, heat rushing up his neck as he stared at the wide-eyed spitfire before him.
“I…I thought it best to—”
“How dare you?” she shouted, her eyes fixed on his, as she stepped ever closer. “How dare you treat me so?”
There was nothing Jonathan could say. He was rendered entirely speechless, far too aware of Lord Michael and Miss Carron’s presence.
The stunned silence was suddenly broken by the sound of Miss Carron’s sniffing, her sobs slowly abating. It was then that Miss Richards appeared to notice that there were other people present in the room.
The fire in her eyes flickered and died, her cheeks slowly beginning to pale. Her shoulders slumped, her hands fell to her sides with one still holding the letter she had written to Jonathan. Her head dropped, her eyes darting away from Jonathan and towards the other two.
“I do apologize,” she muttered, suddenly appearing rather awkward. “I did not know that you had company, Lord Michael.” She glanced at Miss Carron, a slow dawning realization on her face. “And you are Miss Carron.”
Miss Carron’s eyes widened, fresh tears filling her eyes. “Please, do not tell anyone I am here.”
Jonathan closed his eyes, wishing to goodness that Miss Carron had not said a word. Had she not said anything, then Miss Richards would most likely have simply returned home. But now, he could see the flicker of interest in her eyes—particularly as Lord Michael still had his arm around Miss Carron’s shoulders.
“You must excuse us, there is something of a difficult matter here,” Jonathan said, getting to his feet to usher her out of the room. “It would be best if you did not mention that you have seen either Miss Carron or Lord Michael here.”
She came to a sudden stop, her head jerking around to face him. “You are Lord Michael.”
Jonathan swallowed hard and tried to smile, still trying to get her towards the door. “Yes, of course I am. A slip of the tongue after what has been a rather trying afternoon.”
Miss Richards did not move, her eyes roving over the scene before her with a rather suspicious glare. “What is the difficulty?”
“It is a private matter,” Lord Michael said firmly. “Good day, Miss Richards.”
“I did not say I was leaving,” Miss Richards replied, turning back around to face Jonathan. “There is more for us to say to one another, Lord Rivenhall.”
“Yes, I am aware there is,” Jonathan sighed, still walking towards the door. “It is just that—”
He froze, one hand on the door handle. Once again, he had made a mistake. He had responded to her when she had called him by his correct title. Closing his eyes tightly, he kept his face turned towards the door, not able to bring himself to turn around.
“The game is up, old chap,” he heard Lord Michael mutter. “Looks like Miss Richards is going to have to know everything.”
Swallowing hard, Jonathan turned around and tried to put a calm smile on his face, his eyes fixed on Miss Richards’s expression.
She had gone sheet white, her lips trembling as she pointed at him.
“You are Lord Rivenhall,” she whispered, her entire body beginning to shake. “You deceived me.”
“It was not an intentional deception,” Jonathan said, trying to explain. “What I mean is, I did not intend to fall in love with you. I only wished to traverse through society without being hounded by all the eligible young ladies who care only for my fortune.”
Something flashed across her face. For a moment, she could not speak. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, her expression pained. Jonathan took a step forward to take her hand, but she jerked it away.
“And now you believe I am one of them,” she managed to say, as a single tear tracked down her cheek. “You believe I am just the same as the rest.”
Jonathan cleared his throat, lifting his shoulders. “I do not think that now is the best time to discuss things, Miss Richards. I would like to talk to you about it in a little more detail, if I may, but the situation with Miss Carron and Lord Michael is the most important matter.”
It took a few moments, but eventually she nodded, before making her way to a table in the corner of the room. Much to Jonathan’s surprise, Miss Richards poured herself a measure of brandy before carrying the glass back to where the others sat and sitting down carefully. Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a hearty gulp and color returned to her cheeks almost at once.
“By Jove,” Lord Michael muttered, looking up at Jonathan in surprise. “No wonder you were so taken with her!”
Feeling embarrassed, confused, and slightly sick, Jonathan sat down in his chair and looked at the group surrounding him.
“This is rather a difficult situation, as I said,” he mumbled, glancing at Miss Richards. “Miss Carron is being forced into a marriage she does not want. Since the engagement is now in the papers, Lord Michael took the opportunity to take her here. The only problem is we are now at the mercy of her father, whom we believe will soon be coming in search of her.”
“And, no doubt he will come here first, since I have been rather ardent in my attentions towards Miss Carron,” Lord Michael finished with a slight shrug.
“Of course, there is more to the story, but at present, this is the situation with which we are faced.”
There was a moment of silence, only for Miss Richards to shrug. “Then you must go to Scotland.”
Lord Michael blinked rapidly. “To Scotland?”
“Yes, of course, to Scotland,” Miss Richards replied, sounding rather incredulous that they had not thought of such a thing themselves. “Do you care for Miss Carron, Lord Michael?”
He cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening just a little. “Well, our acquaintance has been rather short, but I would say that yes, I do.”
Miss Richards smiled at Miss Carron, her expression sympathetic. “And you, Miss Carron?”
“Of course, I do!” Miss Carron exclaimed, her arm wrapped around Lord Michael’s forearm. “He has been my savior in so many ways. We are so similar in so many ways. It is as though we have been friends for a great many years!”
“It feels that way to me also,” Lord Michael murmured, looking into Miss Carron’s eyes. “You have known from the start that I am not truly Lord Rivenhall. I only have a small fortune and small estate. I will need to work hard to make my lands profitable, but I will provide for you, I swear it. That is, if you will have me.”
Miss Carron’s smile was a beautiful one. “I would marry you were you the poorest man in all of England,” she replied, her eyes brimming with joyful tears. “Oh, my love!”
Jonathan cleared his throat, a little overcome by what occurred. “And what of your father, Miss Carron?” he asked, not wanting to put a dampener on the matter by reminding her of her rather despotic parent. “What will he say when he discovers you have been married over the anvil?”
Michael grinned, his arm firmly around his bride-to-be’s shoulders. “He will have no say over her. We will be wed, and there is nothing he can do about it. I will take his fury head on, if I must, but I rather intend to retire to the country with my bride and live there quietly.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Rather enough of London for me, I think.”
“Then it is settled,” Miss Richards replied with a rather happy smile on her face. “I will return home and fetch you a few things, Miss Carron. For you cannot go to Scotland as you are! And, mayhap, you might need the use of our carriage? I know it will be late when you leave, but you are not likely to be stopped if you use my brother’s carriage.”
“It would be better than taking my own,” Jonathan agreed, seeing Lord Michael smile up at Miss Richards in appreciation. “You are very kind, Miss Richards. Will your brother mind?”
She shook her head, a hint of sadness creeping into her expression. “No, he will not. I doubt he will even notice! Do excuse me, I will not be long.”
Jonathan watched her leave, a feeling of heaviness settling into his soul. Had he read Miss Richards’s letter, then he might now know what it was that troubled her so.
As Michael and Miss Carron talked excitedly to one another, Jonathan could not help but question what it was he had thought of Miss Richards. Had he somehow thought ill of her when he should not have? Was there more to her actions than just the outward appearance?
Frustrated with his lack of clarity, Jonathan got to his feet and went to pour himself a drink. After all, it was not just Miss Richards who required something a little more fortifying!