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“Stay!” The word was out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying. “Come in,” she said more calmly. “Please.”

Mariah backed up as he hoisted himself silently over the window sill. She strained her eyes to make him out in the dark room, her curiosity burning like a bonfire. Who was he, why was he sneaking around like this, and what did he intend by it? She gripped her candlestick, just in case. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the bell, which would bring Sally on the run. Or she could scream, which would bring any number of servants, even her mother.

“Go back to your bed,” he said, unfolding his frame in front of the window.

Mariah felt a moment of alarm. “Why?”

He put his hands on his hips. “Because I can’t stay if you don’t. I shall stay here, and you shall stay there, or I really must go.” She still hesitated, and he half-turned to the window again. “All right, then. Good night.”

“No, no! Don’t go.” She retreated to her bed as she spoke. “But why must I stay over here?”

“We hardly know each other, miss,” he said with affected affront. “Keep your distance, if you please.”

Mariah choked back a snort of laughter. “You’re afraid of me?”

“A wise man never underestimates a woman.”

She leaned forward and stared hard. He was still nothing more than an indistinct shape, standing as he was in front of the only source of light, however dim, in the room. “And I suppose you want to be able to jump out the window if someone should come, as you did last night.”

His laugh was low. “I didn’t jump. I climbed.”

“And how did you manage that?” she asked, astonished all over again that he had done it. “You might have broken your neck.”

“Might have done.” He didn’t sound bothered by the prospect at all.

“Why did you do it?”

“Your mother was calling you. Would she have been pleased to discover you lurking in the dark with a man?”

“I wasn’t lurking⁠—”

“Would she?”

“Well—no⁠—”

“So I left.”

Mariah pressed her lips shut. “Left the ball entirely?”

“I never said that.” He folded his arms and leaned back on the windowsill, his shadow firming into a more defined silhouette. His hair was wavy, she saw with interest—or perhaps just tousled from his climb. Oh, how she wished she hadn’t put out her lamp, so she could see his face...

“Then where did you go? I looked and looked—” She broke off, chagrined at herself for blurting that out.

“Did you really?” His voice warmed. “How very flattering.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was merely curious to see who would do such a rash thing. I’m only glad it wasn’t a waste of time.” Mariah heaved what she hoped was a carefree sigh. “I met ever so many gentlemen whilst looking for you.”

“I hope they were more to your liking.” Dark amusement lurked in his voice; he was teasing her.

Mariah longed to say yes, she had met a dozen immensely fascinating men after he disappeared, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t true. She hadn’t met any man half as intriguing as the mysterious one now sitting on her windowsill.

“None of them felt compelled to leap off a balcony to avoid being seen with me,” she settled for saying.

“And none of them climbed thirty feet up a wall to see you again tonight, did they?”

That was true. Mariah couldn’t repress a burst of glowing satisfaction in her breast. “And why did you?”

For a long moment he didn’t answer. “Because I wanted to see you again.”