A Marquess and a Secret Page 9

  “Secondly,” she replied, coming towards him. “I insist that you read this.” Pulling out the letter she had sent him from her pocket, she held it out to him. “I insist that you do so.”

  Jonathan took it from her hand, aware of just how tight-lipped she was, and yet, how she battled desperately against tears. Had he just made yet another mistake?

  “Very well,” he replied softly. “I shall read it.”

  “Good,” she retorted, lifting her chin a notch. “Then I shall wait.”

  13

  A little too aware of Miss Richards’ presence in the room, Jonathan took the letter and turned it over, looking down at the seal. He had been so sure about Miss Richards beforehand, and now he felt as though he were being tossed about by the sea waves, unsure of where he was to land.

  Sitting down by the fire, he waited for Miss Richards to sit down opposite him before breaking the seal and slowly unfolding the letter.

  Clearing his throat and feeling rather awkward, he began to read aloud.

  “Lord Michael,” he began, his color already rising. “I am writing to you to explain about my recent behavior in regards to finding myself a husband. I will not pretend that I feel nothing for you, as last night’s behavior ought to prove. However, whilst I would accept both a request to court me and for my hand in marriage, circumstances prevent me from doing so.”

  He glanced up at Miss Richards, seeing her lip wobble just a little. Circumstances? What circumstances?

  “Keep reading, if you please,” she said, as the pause grew too long. “There is a great deal more you need to understand.”

  Jonathan held her gaze for another moment before returning his attention to the letter.

  “My dear brother, Lord Richards, comes across as a wonderful, jovial fellow. Whilst he is all that, he is something of a gambler. This is a fact I have tried my best to keep hidden from the rest of the beau monde, and I am glad to say that after a few rather loud arguments, my brother has decided to stop his gambling habits.”

  Frowning, Jonathan stopped reading and looked up at Miss Richards. “Your brother certainly did not come across as a gambling man! I do not recall seeing him in the card room at all.” The words died on his lips, as he recalled something Lord Michael had said to him one of the first times Jonathan had mentioned his introduction to the man.

  “You have remembered something?” Miss Richards asked softly. “There is a rather stricken look on your face.”

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jonathan shot her a rather rueful look. “The true Lord Michael mentioned something about Lord Richards enjoying the card table a little too much when he first knew him, but I did not remember it until this very moment.”

  “My brother inherited the title when he was a rather young man,” Miss Richards explained, a look of both frustration and sadness on her face. “My father did not have adequate time to teach my brother all that was required for managing the estate. My brother took the fortune he had been left and threw himself into as much pleasure as he could.” She shook her head, blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay. “I suppose we all grieve in our own way.”

  Compassion rose in his heart. “You could not stop him?”

  A harsh laugh escaped her lips. “I was lost in my own pain, grieving a father I loved dearly. I did not know the extent of what he had done until I came to London for the Season. I barely saw him. He went out most evenings and came staggering home in the mornings. After a month of this, I demanded to know what he was doing. Then, the truth came out.”

  Jonathan wished he could lean forward and take her hand, such was the pain on her face. He could not imagine what that must have felt like for her, being completely without any control whatsoever whilst money was slowly being drained away from beneath her.

  “I believe that was the time I became who I am now,” she continued, rather softly. “I demanded my brother take me to our solicitors, who looked over all the debts my brother had incurred, and after a great deal of deliberation, laid out matters for us.” Pressing her lips together for a moment, she fought against the wave of emotion that had taken hold of her. “It was worse than I had expected.”

  “My goodness,” Jonathan whispered, a great bolt of shame slicing through him. “I am truly sorry, Miss Richards.” He did not know what else to say, aware that he did not need to read the rest of her letter. Slowly, he had begun to put the pieces of the puzzle together, finally understanding why she had no other choice but to set her sights on a man of wealth.

  She managed a smile, drawing in a shaky breath before continuing on. “It was the shock my brother needed. He took us both back to the estate and spent years trying to fix what he had done. Unfortunately, it has not been enough. Now, our tenants’ homes are in need of repair and the house itself has some rather pressing issues. He is only just able to pay for them.” Shaking her head, she put her head in her hands for a moment. “I had to do what I could to help him.”

  “And so you decided that a man of fortune had to be your goal,” Jonathan said, slowly. “A second son, with less income and significantly less wealth, simply would not do.”

  Miss Richards lifted her head and caught his gaze. “Read the rest of the letter,” she whispered, her expression stricken. “Please, I beg you. I need to know that you understand.”

  Shame burned into him as he finished reading the letter, well aware that everything he had thought about Miss Richards had been entirely wrong.

  “My brother’s spending, however, has left the estate in a rather precarious situation. Therefore, for the sake of my brother and for the title which he upholds, I must find myself a wealthy husband who will, when the time is right, be generous towards my brother. I cannot see any other way for the estate to survive. Even if there is only one poor harvest season, the estate may sink into debt. I hope you can understand that. Whilst I hold you in my heart, I can never allow anything but friendship between us. It is for my brother’s sake that I do this, else I would have allowed myself to give in to all that I feel. Yours, etc.”

  Jonathan dropped his head, the letter fluttering from his fingers onto the carpet. He had not allowed her an opportunity to talk to him the prior evening and had never allowed her a single moment to tell him the truth about her situation. Had he done so, then he might not now be in this rather dreadful mess. He had hurt and offended Miss Richards, the one person he had come to care for, simply because he had not allowed her the opportunity to explain all.

  “Can you now see why I was so angry when you would not read my letter?” she asked, softly. “You did not allow me to speak last evening, even though you kissed me, and that tore me apart. My heart was already wounded in knowing that I would never be a part of your life, no matter how much I desired it. That rebuttal was almost more than I could take.” There was a short pause, as Jonathan continued to stare at the carpet, his eyes burning with shame. “I am glad you have read it now though.”

  Jonathan looked up at her, hardly daring to bring his eyes to meet hers. “I have treated you so terribly,” he said hoarsely, feeling a heaviness in his stomach. “I was drawn to you because you were different from the rest of the ladies in the ton, and yet how quickly I believed what was said about you.”

  A small, sad smile, touched her lips. “What is said about me is true, I suppose,” she answered, with no hint of anger towards him. “I am seeking myself a husband of fortune, but not for the reasons society thinks.” Miss Richards shook her head to herself, clasping and unclasping her hands. “I could never tell anyone about my brother’s affairs, nor what he had done, for fear of jeopardizing his own reputation, as well as my own. After all, no gentleman would be inclined to marry me if it was known that I had a poor brother and a somewhat small dowry.” She held his gaze, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I know it is his own doing, but I cannot help but want to aid him in whatever way I can. He is the only family I have in the world, and he has changed. He is doing everything in his power to make amends for h
is mistakes.”

  “Did he know of your scheme?”

  She nodded, looking away from him. “Only very recently. He tried to dissuade me of course, but once I showed him what I intended in all its detail, he slowly began to accept that it might be a good idea.” Her eyes dimmed. “He is a good brother, in his own way.”

  Jonathan rubbed a hand over his face, taking on the full weight of guilt that rolled onto his shoulders. Miss Richards was more than he had ever thought her. Instead of being entirely focused on herself and her own status, she was giving up her own desires in order to do what she could for her brother.

  She was not a social climber in order to further her own gains, but rather to prevent her brother’s title from falling into disrepute. It was a rather risky scheme, for there was no assurance that whoever she wed would ever decide to give her brother some kind of financial award, but the fact that she was willing to even consider such a thing spoke volumes about her character. She was kind and compassionate, overlooking her brother’s faults and doing what she could to help him. Her love for her brother was beautiful to see, and Jonathan could not help but admire it, despite being rather angry with her brother for being so foolish.

  Lord Richards should be looking to secure a match of his own, not declare that he might remain a bachelor simply because he preferred that life, he thought to himself.

  “And why does Lord Richards not find himself a rich bride?” he asked, pointedly. “This should not fall on your shoulders, Miss Richards.”

  She smiled over at him, grief in her eyes. “Ah, Lord Rivenhall, you do not understand, I think. When one begins courting with the prospect of marriage, does not the father of said lady ensure that the prospective husband is worthy of his daughter, particularly if she has a large dowry? Should he do so, then knowledge of my brother’s debts would immediately come to the surface for it cannot be all that easily hidden. In fact, it is a wonder we have managed to do so for these few years!” Her fingers tightened, as she pressed her palms together, the words dragging from her lips. “In such a circumstance, the lady would refuse to wed my brother and certainly the gossip would start almost immediately. It would be well known that Lord Richards has very little to rub between his fingers. No, it would be too dangerous. Therefore, I have very little choice.”

  Jonathan rose from his chair and went to take her hand, looking down at her with the agony of his mistakes slowly beginning to tear his heart apart.

  “I am so terribly sorry, Miss Richards,” he said honestly. “I do not know how you will ever be able to forgive me, but I must beg it of you regardless. How I treated you last evening, as well as today, is far beyond the pale. You are quite right, I should have allowed you to speak, allowed you to explain. The fact I did not do so is what has landed me in this mess. I realize I have only myself to blame. Is there anything I can do that will aid me in receiving your forgiveness?”

  Miss Richards slowly got to her feet, her eyes on his. The marks of stray tears were on her cheeks, her eyes still sparkling with them.

  “Lord Rivenhall, I—”

  Just as she made to speak, the door flew open of its own accord and Lord Richards walked in, accompanied by a rather bemused looking butler.

  “Mary,” he exclaimed, coming towards them both. “Whatever is going on? Where is your maid? And why has my carriage gone missing?”

  14

  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 immediatel
y 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.”