Mara didn’t want to continue to pile on the untruths, but she knew that unless she told this one more, small white lie, that he might not grant her appeal. “I assume that I will be staying at the estate as a guest?”
“Of course.” His frown deepened.
“Well…” She twisted her hands uncertainly. “It’s just that some of the servants might remember me and…”
“You don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression because you have a reputable business to consider,” he finished for her.
“Exactly!” Mara latched on to that excuse like a lifeline. In truth, she honestly couldn’t have cared less about London’s gossips, but the ones at Eversleigh Hall were a bit more concerning. She would be enough of a curiosity as it was—an unmarried woman traveling on her own—but at least a different name might be enough of a deterrent to keep the servants from questioning her outright, even if they might discuss it among themselves belowstairs. Hopefully, by the time anyone thought to connect her with “Miss Miller,” she would be well on her way back to London.
“I don’t see a problem with that,” Roarke shrugged. “I’ll speak to Mr. Edwards as soon as we stop for luncheon.”
Mara couldn’t keep back the breath she’d been holding in check. “Thank you.”
Roarke nodded and went back to his book, while Mara closed her eyes in relief.
She might just make it through this trip in one piece after all.
