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She had listened with eyes growing rounder at each word. For a moment she didn’t reply. “Is it dangerous?” she whispered.

Harry said nothing.

She gave a muffled squeak. “I—I shan’t tell! I don’t want to endanger you...”

“I can’t come back to see you,” he said. “I dare not. And you mustn’t speak to me if we should meet again.” She wet her lips. Harry returned to her bedside in one stride and reached out to take her hand without thinking. “Promise me.”

“When will you be... free?” she asked, her voice barely audible. Harry stiffened. “When can you come to see me again?” she clarified. “Don’t say you won’t. Not at night, but during the day, as yourself.” He started to shake his head, and she put her hands on the sides of his face, stopping him in place. “You must,” she implored. “Please! I will only give my word if you give yours that you will.”

Her face was so near, her eyes so bright in the silvery moonlight, and her words so tempting, Harry heard himself say, “I will try,” before he was aware of even thinking it. She let out her breath and her face softened with relief.

Refusing to think about what he was doing, he tugged her forward. She came easily, moving into his arms without hesitation. Her arms went around him and her head nestled against his shoulder, her body fitting perfectly to his. For a moment he just held her. She was soft and warm, her hair smelled like spring flowers, and her cheek felt like the finest silk against his. Harry closed his eyes and thought he might sell his soul to stay like this with her.

But not even that bargain would suffice, not in her father’s eyes, not in society’s eyes, and doubtless not even in her eyes if she knew what he really was. So he gently set her back. “Good-bye.”

This displeased her, he could tell, but she let it go. “Why...” Her voice faltered. “Why did you approach me in the first place?”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“That evening at my parents’ ball, when you were on the balcony and I came out for some air. And why—why did you come to see me later?”

Still frowning, he thought rapidly. How on earth was he supposed to answer?

“Was it, by any chance,” she went on, her voice a little higher-pitched, “because of my family?”

The suggestion was so completely absurd, he almost laughed. If anything, he had come in spite of her family. Her father could have him sacked and thrown in prison for what he had done. But then he thought back to what she’d said that evening on the balcony, about every man wanting her father’s attentions more than hers, and understood. He could hardly blame her for wondering, after he refused to tell her what he was doing or anything about himself. “No.”

“Not at all?” There was an almost accusatory bent to the question. It reminded him again of just how far above his touch she was.

“No,” he repeated sharply.

“Because it wouldn’t be unusual, you know,” Mariah went on, unable to stop herself. Her feelings had been so unsettled and so confused today, she wasn’t in control of them anymore. “My father is a very important man. Marrying me would be an enormous advantage to someone like you.”

The instant the words left her lips, she wished them back. All her bitterness at the thought of Harry being just like all the other men who wanted to marry her for her money and her family had risen up inside her again, with the echo of Joan’s words running underneath—as if he had any chance of being accepted... you were lucky to find him out this way... When it crashed into the sudden joy when she thought she had figured it out, followed abruptly by his denial, she wasn’t able to moderate her emotions or her tongue.

But she hadn’t meant to blurt that out so baldly. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she said swiftly, but he turned away.

“No, you’re correct.” His voice was low but controlled. “The advantage in such a match would be entirely mine. But I assure you, never once did I think of your family when I spoke to you.” He started toward the window without a backward glance.

Mariah leaped from her bed and ran after him. “I’m sorry, Harry! I said that very badly. I never thought you were like all the other useless idiots and fops who called on me, but—” She stopped, wringing her hands as he paused with his hands braced on the sides of the window. “I just want to know,” she said desperately, “why you would sneak into my room to see me if you didn’t even hope to court me.”

For a moment he said nothing, regarding her grimly. In the moonlight he was silver and black, halfway between reality and fantasy, everything she wanted and nothing she understood. If only, if only he would explain... She thought she would be able to bear almost anything so long as he told her why.

Slowly, as if making a deliberate decision, he turned, his hands falling to his sides. “Because you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he said in a dark whisper. His eyes seemed to burn into her. “Because the sound of your voice echoes in my dreams every night until I think I might go mad from it. Because I would rather see you like this, for these few stolen moments, knowing I have no hope of anything more, than not see you at all. Because I can’t seem to stop myself, Mariah, even though I know I should.”

She felt tears gather at the back of her throat. Why oh why couldn’t he have been somebody, anybody, proper enough for her parents to accept? Harry might not die of a broken heart, but she very well might. “How dare you,” she said, her voice shaking. “How dare you come and make love to me like it’s some sort of game⁠—”

He gave a caustic huff of laughter. “It was never a game to me.”

“It was,” she burst out, unaware that her voice was rising. “It must be because you don’t even really want me⁠—”

In two long steps he reached her. “Don’t I?” he whispered harshly, seizing her by the arms. “Do you know what I want?”

“What?” she demanded. “To torment me more? How could you possibly do that?”

For answer he spun her around, wrapping his arms around her to hold her against him. “Torment is all I know,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. “I long to hold you like this every night.”

Mariah couldn’t move, shocked. She could hardly believe he had grabbed her so roughly, and yet... that sinuous thing inside her seemed to loosen and uncoil with satisfaction as her body molded against Harry’s almost unconsciously.