There's Something About Lady Mary by Sophie Barnes Page A

and looking more uncomfortable than a fish out of water. “Not to worry,” she told him kindly. “I promise to be on my very best behavior. I simply cannot wait to meet her.”

 

C HAPTER S EVEN
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    B y the time the clock in the hallway struck two on the following afternoon, Mary had managed to convince herself that Mr. Summersby simply must have recognized her the previous evening, and that, as a consequence, he would never want to call on her again. She’d also managed to drive herself half mad, worrying about whom he might have spoken to regarding what he’d seen. In all truth, she scarcely knew the man, and judging by the way in which gossip tended to spread like wildfire among the ton, it wouldn’t take much to ruin her reputation, even if he hadn’t recognized her. All it would take was a good imagination on his part, and if that was the case, then she might very well have to face the possibility of never touching a scalpel again.
    So when Thornton came to announce the arrival of Mr. Summersby and the Countess of Trenton, she was so startled that all she could do was stare in befuddlement at her two visitors for a good three seconds.
    “I do apologize for coming unannounced like this,” Mr. Summersby said as he strode toward her with his sister in tow. “Apparently, it seems to have become a habit of mine.”
    “There is no need for you to apologize,” Mary stammered, desperately trying to get her fluttering heart under control. What on earth was the matter with her? “In truth, you are most welcome.”
    “Thank you, my lady. You are too kind.” He moved aside to make way for his sister. “May I present to you my sister, formally known as her ladyship, the Countess of Trenton.”
    “Good heavens, Ryan,” Lady Trenton exclaimed as she stepped forward, brushing him aside in the process. “There is no need for all that.” She graced Mary with a big smile. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Steepleton. My brother has told me so much about you.”
    “Has he?” Mary asked warily.
    And just what exactly had he told her? That he’d seen her ride off last night, disguised as a man? She studied Mr. Summersby who looked to be in a wonderful mood, not as though he’d just discovered her greatest secret. Was it possible that he hadn’t? She began to relax a little. “May I offer you some tea?” she asked.
    “Actually, we were rather hoping to take you shopping,” Lady Trenton said. “I understand that you might be in need of a gown for the Glendale ball on Friday.”
    “Is that so?” Mary asked in a clipped tone as she turned a frosty gaze on Mr. Summersby. Apparently, he’d shared his opinion on her attire with the remarkably fashionable countess. What could possibly make her feel grimmer than that?
    “Please do not take offense,” Mr. Summersby told her, picking up on her discomfort. “We are only trying to help, and I do assure you that we have your best interests at heart.”
    Mary let out a quiet sigh of defeat. She nodded slowly as she shifted her gaze from one sibling to the other. “If you’ll please wait a moment, I’ll just go and fetch my reticule.”
    They visited three different fabric shops before finally arriving at one on Fleet Street, where Mary’s breath was taken away by the most beautiful selection of fabrics, lace, and ribbons she’d ever seen. Bolts of shimmering silks and satins were neatly arranged in two wide mahogany cabinets that loomed like the Pillars of Hercules from behind the counter. Rolls of the finest muslins and linens were neatly stacked on shelves running from floor to ceiling along one wall, while the plushest velvets lined another.
    Mary stepped gingerly forward as if in a daze, her fingers reaching out on their own accord to skim across a piece of abandoned satin that had been left out on the cutting table. She drew a breath and turned her bright eyes on her two companions. “I never imagined that such fabrics existed,” she said