LWRF 62🔐

CHAPTER 62…………….

. Mariana’s Matchmaking Meeting (2)

“I’ll do as Your Grace says, but I’m worried the young lady will be heartbroken.”

“It’s for the sake of the family, yes, but also for her own good. Lord Algernon is no good. She may not realize it now, but the Emperor will have him executed sooner or later. Love is fine, but to keep it alive, the right environment is needed.”

At the Duke of Seid’s cold words, Anje thought of her parents.

They’d had a hard life because of poverty, but they had loved each other until the day they died.

“It’s not always like that. Some people love each other to the end, even when life is hard. And Lord Algernon won’t die. I’d bet on it.”

What nonsense was coming out of her mouth now!
Realizing what she had just said, Anje hastily raised her hand and clamped it over her lips.

“I misspoke. My apologies. Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

“How would you know something like that? Did someone tell you?”

No, she hadn’t heard it—but she’d seen it. Not that she could ever say such a thing.

She could see other people’s fortunes — who would believe that? If she wasn’t branded insane, that would be miracle enough.

Anje shook her head quickly.
“It’s just… a feeling I have.”

She mumbled vaguely and looked away.

But the Duke’s gaze lingered on her for quite a while.

“I’ll say this just in case — unless you have a death wish, don’t ever get involved in Algernon’s affairs. That’s not something for a mere information broker to meddle in.”

“Have you ever seen me take on something that doesn’t pay?”

At that, the Duke finally looked away, letting out a low chuckle.

“No, I haven’t. Just a word of caution. You seem rather fond of Algernon, that’s all.”

“…What?”

Me? Fond of Lord Algernon?
Where on earth had he gotten such a ridiculous idea?

Before Anje could deny it, the Duke pushed a mountain of papers toward her.

“These are the candidates your lady mother sent for Mariana’s prospective husband. Sort out the ones with disqualifying flaws — those with messy private lives, gambling habits, mistresses, sticky fingers, and the like.”

“The young lady prefers handsome men… Should I include that in the criteria?”

The Duke gave Anje a look that could only be described as exasperated. Feeling the sting, she averted her eyes.

“This is a serious matter, Your Grace. But fine, I’ll overlook that one for now.”

* * *

So she’d said…

“But this doesn’t seem like a simple matter of looks.”

Murmuring under her breath, Anje peeked through the partition at the sunny window table where Mariana sat with Jerome, the eldest son of Count Frances.

Their meeting place was a famous dessert parlor, well known as the perfect spot for arranged dates, each table separated by dividers for privacy.

Elegant chamber music played softly, and the air between the finely dressed couples was a mix of gentle tension and awkward sweetness.

Because of that, everyone had dressed their best — making Anje’s black dress stand out even more.

Couldn’t she at least have changed clothes first?

Josh could understand her rushing out of the aide’s office upon hearing Mariana was meeting a suitor.
But still — wearing black in such a bright, charming place? Really?

“Miss Anje, could you please sit still? People are staring.”

Each time Anje craned her neck over the partition with a frown, Josh flinched, terrified someone might notice them.

But Anje didn’t care how she looked; her eyes were fixed solely on Jerome Frances, Mariana’s potential suitor.

Her fists clenched tightly as she scowled.

“Josh, just look at him. Everyone else here looks perfectly proper, but that man—he’s dressed like that for a matchmaking meeting! Does that make any sense to you?”

“To me, Lord Frances looks well put together,” Josh whispered, tugging on her skirt. But Anje didn’t budge.

“No, no. Sure, his clothes are expensive and all, but his sleeve buttons are undone, and the third button of his shirt is open—he’s practically flashing his navel! My report said he was well-mannered.”

Well-mannered, my foot!

Anje’s eyes narrowed, scanning Jerome Frances’s face as though reading his fortune. His chart showed a “Peach Blossom” fate this year — charm and popularity with women, but also destined for romantic trouble.

“It’s probably just the weather. It’s been warm lately. And men unbuttoning a couple of buttons isn’t exactly scandalous.”

Josh managed to pull Anje back down into her seat and sighed.

“No matter how you nitpick, Lord Frances is still a fine gentleman and a suitable match. The Duchess herself personally approved him. And the rest is for Miss Mariana to decide. We’re just here to keep an eye on things—and maybe have some dessert while we’re at it.”

If Mariana’s former nurse hadn’t come down with a fever, neither Josh nor Anje would have been dragged along.

Mariana hadn’t wanted her private affairs to become gossip fodder.

She couldn’t stop rumors from spreading through high society, but she didn’t want the added fuss of hiring a chaperone.

The Duchess, who had expected Mariana to refuse the meeting altogether, had been so relieved that she agreed to Mariana’s conditions at once.

Still, letting her attend alone was out of the question.

The housekeeper had chosen Anje—recently hired but at least of noble birth—for the role.

And she had warned Josh over and over not to let anything happen.

“You just need to sit there quietly, understood?”
“Leave it to me!”

That was only a few hours ago. Who could have guessed Miss Anje would turn out to be the troublesome one?

Josh covered her face, mortified, as she noticed nearby patrons glancing at them—thanks to Anje kneeling on the sofa and peering over the divider.

Why is embarrassment always my burden to bear…?

“That man won’t do,” Anje declared firmly.

Josh let out a short sigh.
“Just because they’re meeting doesn’t mean Miss Mariana’s marrying him tomorrow. This is just a preliminary round, you know. You of all people should understand that.”

But Anje shook her head.
“This isn’t the time to be so relaxed. Lord Frances isn’t what he seems.”

* * *

“It’s quite hot for midday, isn’t it?”

Jerome Frances rolled up his already-loosened sleeves as he spoke.
Mariana’s gaze flicked to his well-toned forearms before she quickly looked away, her face tinged pink.

Seeing that, Jerome smiled confidently, taking it as a positive sign.

Didn’t they say she liked men like Count Martin?

If that was her type, he stood a good chance.
He had an athletic build and a healthy tan from outdoor pursuits since childhood.

And unlike Count Martin, who was all flash and no substance, Jerome Frances came from a long-established, noble family.

Competition for Mariana’s hand would be fierce, especially since the Duchess herself was involved, but Jerome felt confident in his qualifications.

“I heard embroidery is one of your hobbies.”

“Well, yes…”

To be honest, embroidery wasn’t something Mariana could really call a hobby. She had only learned a little at the academy as part of her cultural education and had rarely touched a needle since.

How that had become her “hobby” was anyone’s guess. Too tired to explain, she just nodded vaguely.

“My mother enjoys embroidery as well. She said she’d love to see one of your works someday.”

“My… works?”

Mariana frowned slightly.

Taking her reaction as interest, Jerome smiled again. The information he’d gotten from his mother after that recent tea party seemed to be paying off.

“I also heard you had feelings for Count Martin once. Don’t worry, I’m not judging. I’m not so petty as to hold it against you if you admired someone before marriage.”

“Where did you hear that I liked Count Martin?”

Was it embarrassment? Her face flushed again, though this time her expression carried a different tone.

“Haha, my mother is quite well connected in society. She said your friends mentioned it.”

“My… friends?”