by Joyce Alec
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!
12
By the time Miss Richards returned, Jonathan had ushered Michael and Miss Car
ron into another room, thinking it best that they did not remain in the drawing room. After all, that was the first place the butler would come, should an unexpected guest come to call, and he did not want Miss Carron’s father to storm in the way Miss Richards had done.
“This room will do the trick, I think,” Jonathan said aloud, as he had a dinner tray for each of them placed on the small table in the middle of the small room. “I am afraid it is nothing special, but it will have to do.” He smiled at the sight of coats, hats, and traveling bags draped over various storage boxes, feeling as though he were some kind of spy on a daring mission. “Once we eat, then you can make your escape.”
“You are very kind, Lord Rivenhall,” Miss Carron replied, who only had eyes for Lord Michael. “And Miss Richards, I must thank you for all you have done.”
Miss Richards smiled and shook her head, taking her seat at the table. “You need not worry, Miss Carron. I am glad to be able to help.”
Dinner was a rather quiet affair. Jonathan did not know what to say and could barely look at Miss Richards. Michael and Miss Carron made their own conversation, whispering about what they might do and where they might go in order to get to Scotland safely.
Thankfully, Lord Michael knew a great deal about the road to the border, given that he had traversed it a few times during his time in the army. All plans were in place and Lord Richard’s carriage was waiting for them around the corner from their townhouse. They would leave once their dinner was completed, just when the final glimpse of sunlight began to fade away.
A loud bang startled Jonathan, making him jump from his seat. The other three remained entirely silent, although Miss Carron dropped her fork with a clatter. Hurrying to the door, Jonathan pressed his ear to it, guessing that it would be Baron Carron.
“He is not at home, sir,” Jonathan heard his butler say, as shouts and thundering footsteps were heard. “You cannot simply come in here and demand to see the man! I must announce you.”
“Goodness,” Lord Michael whispered, looking down at Miss Carron. “I believe your father has finally come in search of you.”
Miss Carron clutched at Lord Michael, who gave her a reassuring smile. “He will not find us, I am quite sure.”
Jonathan tried to ignore the sudden flurry of nerves that filled his stomach, hearing doors banging one after the other. It was quite apparent that the baron was intent on searching Jonathan’s home until he either found his daughter or gave up in the belief that she was no longer there.
The room that they were in was hidden away in a small recess of the townhouse and was mostly used for storage, but that did not mean the baron would not find it should he search extensively. Of course, Jonathan’s butler might attempt to have his footmen use force in order to stop the man, but that could end rather badly.
Leaning against the door, he turned around to face his guests. “I think we had better create some kind of distraction,” he said quickly, seeing Miss Richards nod in agreement. “Then, Michael, you and Miss Carron must make your way below stairs and leave via the servants’ entrance.”
“We should leave now?” Miss Carron repeated, even as she pulled on her gloves. “But my father is within this very house!”
“All the better time to leave then,” Miss Richards replied with a quick smile. “If he is within this house when you depart, then he will have very little chance of spotting you. Lord Rivenhall and I will do all we can to stall him too, of course.”
“Of course, we will,” Jonathan repeated, glad that Michael appeared to agree with this plan. “I had best step out first with Miss Richards. We will try to lead the baron towards the drawing room, and you can then hurry out towards the staircase.”
“Very good, very good,” Michael replied, his mouth drawn into a thin line. “I shall write, of course, the moment we return home safely.”
“Do,” Jonathan said, shaking Michael’s hand warmly for a moment. “I would like to know that all has turned out well.”
Michael smiled, as Miss Carron tucked her hand under his arm. “A good game, I would say, Rivenhall. On my end, at least.”
Jonathan winced, as Miss Richards came to stand next to them all, aware that the “game” had not turned out so well for him. “Indeed, Michael. I wish you all the happiness in the world.” Turning to Miss Richards, he held out his arm to her. “I suppose we had better go.”
“I suppose we must,” she replied, before stepping forward to bid farewell to Miss Carron and Lord Michael. That done, she walked to the door, and listening carefully for a moment, stepped out into the hallway with Jonathan following behind.
He pulled the door behind him at once, and just as Miss Richards tucked her hand under his arm, Miss Carron’s father flew out from the other room and stopped dead in the corridor.
“You!” he hissed, shaking one finger in Jonathan’s direction. “You are the one who lives here with Lord Rivenhall, are you not?”
“I thought I heard a noise,” Jonathan replied mildly, glancing at Miss Richards. “Who might you be, sir?” He glanced at the butler, who appeared rather confused, tipping his head a little to dismiss him. He could deal with the baron himself.
“I am looking for my daughter, Miss Carron,” the baron spat, his eyes narrow. “Where is Lord Rivenhall? I know he has taken her.”
Miss Richards stepped forward and put one hand on the baron’s arm, a shocked expression on her face. “Taken her?” she gasped, beginning to lead the man down the corridor. “I am truly horrified to hear it! I am Miss Richards, sir, sister to Viscount Richards. No wonder you are so upset. Come now, you must have a drink of something for your nerves and tell us the whole thing.”
“Lord Rivenhall is not here, I am afraid,” Jonathan continued, marveling at how well Miss Richards was handling the irate gentleman. “Although I do think he intends to return soon. Went out to play cards somewhere, although I am not quite sure where. He receives so many invitations, you see.”
The baron twisted his head and glared at him, eyeing Miss Richards rather suspiciously, although he did allow her to lead him into the drawing room.
“And why are you here alone with a gentleman, Miss Richards?” he asked, as Jonathan shut the door behind them both. “Where is your brother?”
Jonathan paused, nausea clutching at his stomach, as he stared at Miss Richards. His mind went entirely blank, as he struggled to find an explanation, realizing too late that he had not thought of such a thing.
“Well, you must promise to keep it a secret,” Miss Richards replied, after a moment. “But Lord Michael and I have become engaged this very evening. My brother has stepped out for a few minutes, to give us a little privacy, for which we are so very grateful, are we not?”
Engaged to Miss Richards? Jonathan’s heart seemed to stop in his chest, ice forming in his lungs. “Yes, yes,” he finally said, his smile almost cracking as he forced it across his mouth. “He will be back very soon, I am quite sure.” He saw Miss Richards continue to talk animatedly about the subject with a somewhat less suspicious-looking baron, his mind screaming at him that she was using the situation for her own advantage.
Apparently, they were to be wed. Jonathan did not expect the baron to keep such news to himself, especially when it became known that Lord Michael and he had traded places. All thoughts of Miss Richards having some kind of reasonable explanation for her desire to find such a husband flew from his mind, his heart sinking into his boots. What a fool he had been.
Forced to play the part of a newly engaged and deliriously happy gentleman, Jonathan and Miss Richards managed to keep the baron in the drawing room for a good hour, especially since Miss Richards listened with apparent shock and astonishment at the story the baron told. She agreed fervently that his daughter ought to be grateful for such a man as Lord Baxter, shaking her head that her strong will had pushed aside familial obligation.
“Of course, I will inform you the moment Lord Rivenhall returns,” Jonathan promised, as the baron made to take his
leave. “I am sorry he has not yet returned.”
“It is no matter,” the baron replied, apparently quite willing to believe their story that the man had gone out for the evening. Jonathan was quite sure that this was mostly due to Miss Richards’ wonderful play-acting, although it tore at his heart for him to realize just how wonderful an actress she was. How well did he really know her?
The butler arrived to escort the baron from the house, and the very moment the door was shut, Miss Richards collapsed into a chair, fanning her face.
“My goodness,” she breathed, looking up at him with a spark of happiness in her eyes. “Do you think we gave them enough time to get away?”
“I believe we did,” Jonathan replied, somewhat gruffly. “Now all I can do— Now all we can do, is wait.”
She frowned, sitting up a little straighter. “We?”
“You need not play coy with me, Miss Richards. I am well aware that you have just announced our engagement to the baron. He will not keep it to himself.”
Miss Richards stared at him for a moment, her eyes widening as she understood what he meant. “You believe that I would truly try and do such a thing?”
“Why not?” Jonathan retorted, his fingers curling into a fist. “You clearly are only after a certain type of gentleman for your husband, and now that you know the truth of my identity, I suddenly became rather a good match!”
He watched as she got to her feet, feeling triumphant in his diagnosis of her behavior.
“First of all, Lord Rivenhall, I declared myself engaged to Lord Michael Astor, whom you are not. By the time the news reaches London of their flit, and of the truth of your identities, there will be confusion upon confusion spread throughout the town. No one will quite know what has happened, and since I presume you will be back in your country seat by then, you shall be far away from it all. Our supposed engagement will simply be a whisper, lost amongst all the other rumors.”
