“Marston pursed her lips and wondered what to say to Lizbeth, showing up on the doorstep with this young man who'd clearly been fighting. Surely this wasn't the beau Lizbeth had been so eager to see, waiting in the park for hours yesterday in case he came. Mrs. Marston had sat with her, for appearance's sake. But, yes, Lizbeth was introducing him. "Mrs. Marston, I'd like you to meet Jarrett Logan." "Are you a ruffian?" Mrs. Marston asked him. Might as well get her position laid out Find out wher...e matters stood and let him know her thinking on coarse behavior. "No, ma'am," he said, a smile beginning and then turning into a wince. A fresh line of blood broke out from a cut near his mouth. "For heaven's sake, Mrs. Marston," Lizbeth said, "Jarrett got jumped on by a whole gang of men that ought to be in jail, and if it weren't for some soldiers, he'd probably have wound up dead. I told him you'd help." "I didn't say I wouldn't But, Lizbeth,...you're all right?" Mrs. Marston hated asking as much as she knew Lizbeth hated being fussed over.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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