The following morning, Jonathan rose bright and early, breaking his fast alone in the solitude of the dining room. After Lord Richards had appeared the prior evening, there had been something of a hubbub in the room for a good few minutes, as Miss Richards and he had tried to explain to Lord Richards all that had gone on. Lord Richards had left still looking somewhat confused, and Jonathan had been quite unable to finish his conversation with Miss Richards.

He had not slept particularly well either, given just how much was on his mind. The letter she had written him had been kept by his bedside, a constant reminder of his failure. In the depths of his anger and grief over what he had seen, he had never allowed himself to consider that there might be an explanation for her attentions towards certain gentlemen. Lord Winchester, for example, who had been rather old and rather rotund, she had danced with on numerous occasions, seeming pleased with his company. Had he allowed himself to consider the matter against what he knew of Miss Richards, he might have realized that things did not quite make sense, and then he might have thought to simply speak to her about her choice of dance partners. Given their growing acquaintance, she might have taken him into her confidence earlier.

But no, he had done none of that. Instead, he had injured her with his harsh words and sought to distance himself, only being forced into reading the truth much, much later.

However, Jonathan was a man who knew that calling himself a fool did nothing to help the situation. He had apologized, yes, but there was more that he could do. He did not want Miss Richards to feel as though she had no other choice but to marry someone she did not care for, not when she was sacrificing her own chance of happiness for the sake of her brother.

He could not believe that she would ever seek his company again, but that was not why he had planned this next course of action. He wanted to give her the freedom she deserved, even if that did not include him.

Although Lord Richards was to have a rather stern talking to, if he had his way. A gentleman took responsibility for his own actions, seeking a solution to cover his own mistakes. Just as he intended to do.

The London streets were quiet, as he made his way to his solicitors. He had not called on them since he had first come to town, given that he was busy with his ruse, so it took a little time for his accounts to be found and brought forward. It took a little over an hour for all the details to be settled, but once it was done, Jonathan signed his name on all the requested documents and left the offices.

His heart ached a little less than it had before. As he drew in a deep breath, the day itself seemed a little brighter. Miss Richards would have no need to continue along her chosen path, for the matter of financial hardship was settled. He would make it clear to them both that he expected no recompense, that it was simply to be taken as both a gift and an apology—an apology that Miss Richards would understand.

For a moment, he toyed with walking to their house and explaining it all in person, wondering what Miss Richards’ reaction to him would be. Then, after a moment’s thought, he turned towards home instead, knowing that he had no right to simply call upon them after what he had done. Miss Richards might not wish to see him, and he would not impose himself on her. A letter would suffice. Then, after that had been seen too, he would instruct his butler to begin packing his things. It was time to return home for good.

A short time later, his letter sent and packing already underway, Jonathan was at in his study, penning a short letter to Michael. It informed Michael that he was returning back to his country seat and that he hoped Lord Michael and his new bride—provided all had gone well—would come for an extended visit soon. Sealing the letter, he made to press his seal into the hot wax, only for the door to swing open, a young lady hurrying into the room, the butler behind her.

“Miss Richards!” Jonathan exclaimed, his seal still in the wax. “Whatever are you doing here?”

She twisted her head and glared at the butler, who—much to Jonathan’s surprise—left at once, closing the door behind him.

“I know I keep bursting into your house without any notice,” she began, breathlessly, as though she had been running, “but my brother and I received your letter only half an hour ago.”

Jonathan sank back into his chair, feeling a little apprehensive. “I hope I did not offend you by doing so.”

“Offend me?” Miss Richards asked, staring at him as though he had gone quite mad. “You have not offended either of us, not in the least, but I am here to tell you that I simply will not accept it.”

Blinking, Jonathan stared up at the beautiful woman in front of him and immediately noticed that there was no anger in her gaze. Instead, there was a curious kind of sadness, as though he had done something to upset her without truly knowing what it was.

“I must ask you to accept it,” he said slowly, getting to his feet so that he might stand in front of her. “Miss Richards, I did a terrible wrong to you, treating you in a way you ought never to have been treated. I showed you no kind of respect—only to discover that I was quite wrong in my assumptions. I am heartily ashamed of myself.” Seeing her about to speak, he held up one hand and continued on, desperate to speak all the words he had in his heart. “My shame knows no bounds, and after hearing what it is you are doing in order to save your brother and his title, I am compelled to act. Your kindness and compassionate heart are things I admire, and that I can only hope to have one day in my own nature. You should be able to marry whomever you choose, and it is my hope that in accepting this, you will do just that.”

His speech completed, Jonathan held his breath and looked down at her, trying his best to ignore the growing ache in his heart. He wanted this woman for his own, yet he knew he had no right to claim her. He could not even dare form the words to ask her to be his bride.

After what he had said and done, he did not even deserve to speak to her as he was this very moment. It was gracious of her to allow him such a small thing. At least he could return to his country estate knowing that he had managed to put his mistake to rights.

“You look rather troubled, Lord Rivenhall,” Miss Richards said softly, taking a step closer to him. “Pray, tell me your thoughts.”

Recalling how she was rather bold with her statements, Jonathan sighed and shook his head. “I confess that I am still ashamed of my actions. If you will accept what I have given you, it will be a balm to my soul, even though I am fully aware it is more than I deserve.”

She laughed softly, astonishing him entirely.

“My dear Lord Rivenhall,” she smiled, putting her hand on his. “I am afraid that, whilst it is in my heart to forgive you, I still cannot accept your money—not unless you accept my hand in marriage.”

Jonathan blinked, his heart stopping completely in his chest for a moment. He stared down at her, not quite sure he had heard her correctly.

“I have always gone against society’s rules, and so you must forgive me another misstep,” she continued, her hand tightening on his. “It is I that am proposing to you, Lord Rivenhall. It has been a rather difficult path for us both, but I confess that my heart is filled with none other than you.”

Jonathan felt himself sag with a sudden relief, pulling her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he let out a bark of laughter, overcome with the love he felt.

“I did not know until this very moment just how much I cared for you, Miss Richards,” he began. “I—”

“Mary,” she interrupted, looking up at him. “If I am to be your wife, then you must call me Mary. Although you have not yet agreed to marry me.”

Jonathan shook his head at her, a broad smile crossing his face. “I will forever be unworthy of you, Mary,” he replied, tenderness in his features. “You have forgiven me in spite of all my failures, in spite of all my harsh words to you.”

“Even more than that,” she replied, reaching up to twine her hands around his neck. “I believe that I love you. I think I have grown in my love for you with every moment we have spent together, I simply did not allow myself to feel it before.”

A vision of his bright, happy future came into his mind, as Jonathan leaned down to kiss her, his arms tight around her waist. After all the muddles, all the difficulties, and all the pain, they had somehow managed to find their way back to one another.

“I will never let you go again,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers. “Never again, I swear it.”

“Then, you will marry me?” she replied, her eyes twinkling up at him.

He smiled at her before kissing her again with all the love he had in his heart. “Yes, my dear Mary. I will marry you.”