Ian raised an eyebrow. "Your father ain't no Italian lord, Mary, and you've never been out of London, I'll bet you that." He said, not sure why or how Mary had suddenly changed from nursemaid to heiress.
"Tell you later, if you're interested. But it's a job for Mary Roper, not Marianna Pablo Fusilli or whatever it is. 'Sides which, how are you going to marry a Lord, of all people? Little Mary Roper who only had one set of clothes as a kid?" He looked her over a moment, unsure if he had over stepped a line somewhere.