Page 13 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess
“Ah, I see. Well, I am Lord Morendale’s steward. My name is Harry Westbrook.”
Lucy flinched at that. “L-Lord Morendale?”
A guarded look came over Harry’s face. Both of them got slowly and carefully to their feet, eyeing each other.
“Yes, the Marquess of Morendale,” he answered hesitantly, as if braced for her to say something terrible. “My cousin, actually. Distantly, but still. He’s a fine man.”
She bit her lip. He continued to regard her with a gaze that was both hopeful and cautious. It dawned upon her that he still anticipated some unkind remark from her.
“I’m sure he is,” she heard herself say. “I cannot claim acquaintance with the gentleman, yet I am certain that he is not deserving of the unfavourable opinions circulating about him. Indeed, gossip is a most absurd pastime.”
Harry gave a relieved smile. “Indeed, you can’t believe anything you hear.”
She cleared her throat, dragging her gaze away from him. “Well, I should get on.”
“Of course, of course.”
She turned and hurried away down the street, only to stop when he called after her.
“Wait! You never told me your name.”
She paused, fighting back a smile.
What’s the harm? I doubt I’ll see him again.
Although if one of the girls marries the Marquess of Morendale…
“Lucy,” she said, over her shoulder. “My name is Lucy Pearson.”
