Free There's Something About Lady Mary by Sophie Barnes Page B

idea what it is that you are up to, my lady,” Emma said as she handed Mary her hat after helping her get dressed. “Just promise me that you will be careful.”
    “Not to worry, Emma. I just have to pay a visit to a friend of mine, that is all.”
    Emma looked at her skeptically but apparently knew better than to pry into her mistress’s affairs and simply nodded, for which Mary was grateful. “I will be here waiting for you to return, my lady.”
    With only her patient’s welfare in mind, Mary walked her horse briskly toward the street corner. She stopped for a moment, glanced about, and when she was certain that she was quite alone, she placed her left foot in the stirrup.
    “Excuse me, sir!”
    Mary froze, her heart taking off with a gallop. She knew that voice. What in the world was Mr. Summersby doing there so late in the evening? More importantly, what the devil was she supposed to do now? She’d told Lord Arlington that she’d be back to check on his wife, and so she would—not even Mr. Summersby would stop her from keeping such a promise. She continued to mount her horse, hoping to be gone before he could catch up with her.
    “Sir!” His voice echoed more insistently through the night as his footsteps broke into a run, his heels clicking loudly against the pavement.
    Oh hell, he was coming after her.
    Why?
    Mary didn’t have time to ponder that question. In another couple of seconds he’d be upon her, and then she’d really have some explaining to do. Gritting her teeth and muttering an apology he’d never hear, she swung herself into the saddle and tightened her grip on the reins. Then, without a backward glance, she dug her heels into her horse’s sides and rode off, disappearing quickly out of sight.
    R yan stood for a long while after in the middle of the street, staring after the young man who’d just ridden off, the same young man he’d seen the previous evening. He’d hoped to ask him a few questions to find out what he was up to so late. What sort of errands was Lady Steepleton sending him on, and were they related to the letter she’d received? One thing was for sure: the emissary hadn’t wanted to stop for a chat.
    He glanced at Lady Steepleton’s house, wishing he could talk to her and perhaps find out more. Damn. There was more to it than his desire to keep her safe; he was merely looking for an excuse to see her again. Ryan raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. God help him if he wasn’t falling for the woman. He’d do well to keep this growing fancy under control, especially since she appeared to be far more trouble than he ever would have imagined. She certainly wasn’t as demure as he’d initially thought her to be. He reflected on that for a moment. Would he really care for the companionship of a sedate woman? Absolutely not, although he was hoping for someone a little less willful and unruly than his sister. He grinned at the very thought of it: the Marchioness of Steepleton dressed in a shirt and breeches, gallivanting about like the hoydenish Alexandra.
    Not bloody likely.
    Lady Steepleton might have a sharp tongue on her, but she wasn’t at all the hoydenish type. Still, something was awry, and he intended to get to the bottom of it as quickly as possible.
    “Not very astute, are you, Mr. Summersby?” a dry voice asked from behind his left shoulder.
    Ryan turned to find the Messenger standing but a few paces away from him. In fact, with just one step, he could probably have reached out and touched him. His eyes narrowed with irritation. “What do you mean?”
    “You haven’t figured out who it is that keeps leaving Lady Steepleton’s house in the middle of the night, running errands that are still as elusive to you as the rider’s identity.”
    Ryan glared back at the black-hooded figure. “And what do you know of it?”
    “Enough to tell you that Lady Steepleton is finding it difficult to do as she is told.”
    “Meaning?” If only they