Free There's Something About Lady Mary by Sophie Barnes

for spoiling her clothes.”
    “I see,” Mary said. How curious, but what a relief: a young lady, similar in age to herself, who’d been raised among the ton , but who appeared to be just as far from perfection as she was. What a wonderful discovery. Perhaps the two of them could one day be friends. The wind tugged at her gown once more. She turned to Mr. Summersby. “It’s getting rather nippy. Shall we return to the carriage?”
    He nodded, turning them about, but not before she caught a glimpse of regret flashing behind his eyes. Curiously, she realized that she felt the same. She hadn’t expected to enjoy their outing as much as she had. He had surprised her, forcing her to wonder when they might meet again. She dared not ask, for fear of giving him the wrong impression. She merely enjoyed his company, that was all. But her heart still skipped a beat when she turned her head in his direction and caught him gazing down at her. He smiled, and she caught her breath. He truly was a handsome devil.
    Friends, she reminded herself, just friends.

 

C HAPTER S IX
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    “A nother letter has arrived for you, my lady,” Thornton said the minute Lady Steepleton walked through the front door of her house with Emma in tow. Ryan followed at a respectable distance, his only intention being that of seeing her ladyship home safely.
    “Thank you, Thornton,” she said, taking the white envelope and opening it before she’d even removed her gloves. As she unfolded the piece of paper and began to read, she drew a tight breath.
    “Are you all right?” Ryan asked with marked concern.
    Lady Steepleton nodded numbly, but there was terror in her eyes. “I. . .” she managed to get out in a raspy voice. “I. . .er. . .Thank you for a lovely day, Mr. Summersby. It was most pleasant.”
    “Are you quite certain that there is nothing I can do?” Ryan asked. “You look suddenly quite unwell.”
    “No, thank you,” she told him firmly. “My maid will attend to me. I am just a bit tired, that is all.”
    Ryan knew that she was dismissing him with a lie. He gave her a curt nod. What else was there to do when the woman wouldn’t turn to him for help? “I will call on you tomorrow then,” he told her. “If I may.”
    “Yes,” she whispered. “I shall look forward to it.”
    What the devil did that letter say, Ryan wondered as he walked back to his carriage, annoyed that she had so easily turned him away. He knew he had no right to feel that way; after all, they’d only just met. It would be presumptuous of him to think that she might share her worries with him so soon. Perhaps it was because of the connection they’d shared at the park. He thought of it and realized how extraordinary it had been, perhaps because it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. He shook his head, unwilling to dwell on it further. Devil take it, he had a job to do.
    “Take the horses home,” he told his coachman. “I will walk back from here.” But instead, he went to the corner of James Street and waited, keeping a steady gaze pinned on Lady Steepleton’s front door. There was no question that she was hiding something, and he had every intention of figuring out what that something might be—before she managed to get herself killed.
    It didn’t take more than ten minutes before she emerged from her home once more. A carriage drew up to the pavement, and she quickly climbed inside.
    Where the devil is she off to now?
    Ryan watched as the carriage rolled into motion. There wasn’t a moment to lose if he wanted to find out where she was headed. Running into the street, he hailed the first hackney he could find. “Follow that carriage!” he called out to the driver. “And be quick about it, my good man.”
    H aving been shown into the Earl of Woodbridge’s drawing room and offered a cup of tea, Mary waited expectantly for his lordship to appear. She’d known him all her life, for he had been one of her father’s closest